“What the hell were you thinking?” Rhys asked, his blue eyes snapping with anger, and worse, with disappointment. Seeing it there was a punch in the gut, one Nathan deserved for letting himself lose control.
“I think you know what I was thinking.” He arched a brow.
“Where is she?” Celeste asked, peering around the room as he had done a few moments before.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She ran out.”
“God,” Pippa whispered. “Come on, Celeste, let’s try to find her.” The women clasped hands and, with one last look at him, threaded away through the crowd to find Abigail.
Which left Nathan with Rhys and Owen, and they watched as the news of what had happened spread through the ballroom. He could actually track it as one person whispered to another and then eyes turned on him: curious, judgmental, interested.
“I suppose I should thank you for creating a stir that takes some pressure off of me,” Rhys murmured. “But then again, I feel that I must protect Abigail as the closest thing to a brother that she has.”
Nathan pursed his lips. “I understand that. But you don’t need to tell me what I need to do or challenge me to do it. I know.” He caught his breath. “I know.”
And he did. He knew exactly what would happen next.
Chapter 9
Abigail paced her chamber, as she had been all night long. She had fled Nathan’s ball in a cloud of humiliation, but also in searing sensation. Her night had been haunted by memories of staring, judging eyes…but also the feel of Nathan’s hands on her, coaxing pleasure from her almost as if he had been built to do so.
She wanted more.
There was a light knock on her door, and she turned toward it to bid the person to enter. Paisley poked his head inside. “I’m sorry to disturb, madam, but you have a visitor. Several visitors, in fact.”
She swallowed hard. She’d received a message from Pippa last night and another from Celeste this morning. Neither one directly addressed what had happened at the ball last night, but there was enough concern in both letters that she had to believe they knew. She didn’t want to face them.
“I’ll be down in a moment,” she said softly.
He nodded, a flash of concern crossing his expression before he closed the door and left her alone again. She moved to her mirror. Cora had readied her an hour before, but nothing could conceal the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. Her friends would see.
Still, there was no avoiding it, so she pushed her shoulders back and went downstairs. She entered the parlor, trying to force brightness to her face, but what she saw there stopped her short.
Celeste and Pippa were there, it was true, but alongside them were their husbands…and Nathan. He stood at the fireplace, leaning on the mantel. She might have thought him casual except for the very focused expression on his face as he stared at her.
Humiliation hit her in waves as she staggered back a step. “You…you are all here.”
Pippa came forward to kiss her cheek and drew her gently into the room. “Paisley didn’t tell you?”
“I assumed it was just you and Celeste coming to check on me,” she said, her voice barely carrying. “I did not expect the entire inquisition at my door.”
Pippa opened her mouth as if to respond to that statement, but Abigail held up a hand as she moved to the sideboard. “Would anyone like tea or a scone? It looks like Mrs. Smythe brought her best.”
Celeste rushed forward. “Why don’t you let me do that?” she asked.
Abigail shook her head, unable to meet her friend’s gaze. “Let me do this normal thing, please.”
Celeste pressed her lips together. “Of course,” she said, squeezing her arm gently. “Of course.”
No one stopped her as Abigail got tea for everyone, preparing it just as each one liked. Eventually it was only Nathan who hadn’t been served. She glanced at him, as she had been avoiding doing since the first moment she entered the room.
“And what do you want, Your Grace?” Her tone was harsher than she had intended, but it was impossible to look at him now and not think of his hands on her thighs, fingers on her…
She shook her head to clear those wicked thoughts and he arched a brow as if he could read them. “Nothing for me, thank you.”
She sighed. “Then sit, won’t you? I can’t bear you looming over me from the fireplace like you’re judging the room at large.”
He was quiet for what felt like a very long moment, and then he inclined his head and took a place in one of the chairs facing the two settees where Owen and Celeste and Pippa and Rhys sat. Abigail took the place beside him, though she didn’t want the intimacy that image created considering the circumstances.
“Obviously you all know what happened last night,” she whispered, heat filling her cheeks. “It is so entirely humiliating.”
Beside her, she felt Nathan stiffen, though she wasn’t sure why. He could be no more pleased about what had happened than she was. It was a nightmare for both of them.
“Lady Hartfortshire was very…insistent about telling the world she’d walked in on you and Gilmore in a delicate position,” Pippa said gently. “Though I do have to say the Duchess of Abernathe did try to stop her. She apologized profusely to Celeste and me when we spoke to her.”
“Oh God.” Abigail covered her face with her hands. “It was bad enough before. I was barely acknowledged because of Erasmus and his bad behavior, and I was fine with that. I knew it would be that way. But now it’s my behavior they’re judging. What if it hurts you and Rhys, Pippa? What if it hurts Gilmore?”
“All of us are only concerned about you,” Rhys said as he pushed to his feet and paced across the room.
“How can you not acknowledge that you could be damaged by this?” Abigail asked him.
“I’m damaged enough, my dear.” He shrugged. “It was not your doing. And at any rate, I may not be in as poor a position as I thought. Gilmore’s loyalty has an enormous impact. And, ironically, I was approached by another person last night. The Duke of Abernathe was speaking to me before the incident, and this morning Pippa and I received an invitation to some huge soiree he and the duchess are throwing. So whatever you did didn’t hurt me, I assure you.”
She felt a little tension leave her. “Well, at least I am happy about that. I suppose the answer to the problem is very obvious, though.”
“Indeed, it is,” Nathan said softly.
“I will just…go back into seclusion,” she said.
Everyone in the room stared at her until she shifted beneath the weight of their gazes. Rhys was the one that moved toward her, an expression close to pity in his eyes. “I don’t think that’s the solution, Abigail.”
She stared at him, and his words became clear. “Are you…are you talking about me marrying Gilmore?” She pivoted toward him and saw that he was not reacting with shock or anger or distress at the idea. His expression was entirely unreadable. “We despise each other!” she snapped, and then faced the room again. “He certainly doesn’t want me.”
“I think we’ve established that is decidedly untrue,” Nathan said gently.