“Fine.” He could only marvel at her skills, really. He tilted his head to the side as he studied her. Not even a hint of embarrassment or shame at having tossed him over for a chance with his brother. No sign of heartbreak or regret that the future marquess had chosen another.
Clearly Abigail wished to turn back time. She was acting as if none of that had ever happened.
He noticed that the crowd around them had dwindled, only a few couples remained now that the breeze was picking up and clouds rolled overhead.
A storm was coming. He could feel it in the air.
His gaze dropped when her hand landed on his arm. He stared at her small, gloved hand for a full second in something akin to horror.
“Merrick,” Abigail murmured, her voice softening along with her gaze. “There is so much I’ve been meaning to say to you…”
He blinked. Was this really happening?
“I know I have made mistakes, but I wish for us to start over.”
He stared at her. She did nothing so gauche as blush. She did not even fidget beneath his stare. Her smile grew, her gaze turned knowing. “We made a good fit, the two of us. Your mother approved, I know. And your father has spoken to mine about how much he wishes for our families to align.”
His mother. His father. Her smile was so smug beneath that sweet facade.
She knew exactly what she was doing. In the time they spent together he’d let it slip, his desire to live up to their expectations. His overwhelming need to make them happy.
Not because he was such a thoughtful and considerate son but because…
He let out a sharp exhale as he realized the truth of it.
Because he wished for their approval. Just once he’d wanted them to look upon him as they did his brother. He’d come back from the continent with the naive hope that if he merely acted the part, if he found the right lady and made the right match then they would accept him and love him the way they adored his brother.
Abigail must have taken his silence as a signal of his assent because she shifted closer, her eyelashes batting up at him as she continued talking in sweet soft whispers about how wonderful they could be together.
He listened to her as if from a distance as he realized just how wrong he had been.
How right Lily had been.
It was one thing to try and make his family proud. It was entirely another to base his future happiness on trying to make them happy.
And Abigail? She would never have made him happy. Not the way that being with Lily filled him with joy and life and passion.
It was with a sense of sadness that he went to withdraw his arm from her grasp. Not sadness over Abigail, but over his own ridiculous childish notions. It was time to admit that his parents might never approve of him—not the way they did his brother.
But there was one person out there who’d never needed him to change in order to care for him. Lily hadn’t even wanted him to change.
That thought brought a smile, and he watched in alarm as Abigail’s face lit up as well.
His smile turned to a grimace. He hadn’t meant to lead her on. He cleared his throat. “Lady Abigail, while I appreciate what you have said—”
“Haven’t you done enough?” Lily’s voice startled him so badly he found himself blinking over at her in shock.
“When did you arrive?” he asked.
She did not look up at him. She was too busy glaring at Abigail through narrowed eyes, her lips pressed together in a fierce scowl.
Oh dear. He knew this look. It was the same expression she’d worn before laying into him three years ago and effectively ending their friendship.
It was a look that meant war.
“Lily,” he started, a note of warning in his voice.
She ignored it, leaning forward until she was right in Abigail’s face. “You and your cold heart don’t deserve a gentleman like Lord Merrick.”
Abigail’s eyes widened, her lips parting in an O of surprise.
Merrick didn’t wish to admit how much her words made his heart lighten. He really ought to put an end to this. And even so, he wished to hear what Lily had to say. His lips curved up in a grin as he watched his little spitfire clench her fists as she faced off with the woman who’d hurt his pride.
His pride, but not his heart.
“You will never deserve him, so take your twisted morals and your cruel words and return to the party where the rest of the partygoers don’t see that you are a fake,” Lily continued.
Abigail seemed to remember herself then, and she burst out in a laugh that had the few stragglers left on the veranda, glancing their way. Or perhaps that was Lily’s sharp tone that had them gawking.
“Why, if it isn’t Miss Upton,” Abigail drawled. Her voice was still sweet but it was laced with amusement—the mocking kind.
Oh dear.
Merrick grabbed Lily’s elbow, more than a little afraid that his little hellion might pounce.
“Come along, Lily,” he urged softly.
“No, not until I tell her where she can—”
“Lily,” he interrupted.
But Abigail was laughing. “Oh this is sweet. Really, Laura, I always knew you had feelings for your friend, but why are you embarrassing yourself with this behavior?” She turned to Merrick with a knowing smile that said they were in on some joke.
Merrick stiffened at the sight of it, but unlike Lily, he knew how to show restraint.
“Did I not warn you, Lord Merrick? I’m afraid Miss Upton never did learn how to be a proper young lady. I understand her childish infatuation must be difficult for you to ignore, but I must caution you once again.” Her gaze drifted over to Lily. “It really would be best for you to stay away before her unruly behavior tarnishes your family’s good name.”
Lily sneered, her lips parting to say something nasty, of that he was certain.
In that moment, he could not give a fig for his family’s name. All he cared about was Lily...and making sure she did not do something she would regret forever.
“Lily, please,” he said under his breath, leaning over so only she could hear. “She’s already hurt us both enough.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her expression stricken. It was there and gone quickly, and then she was reaching for him, gripping his arm tightly as she turned back to Abigail with what could only be described as a snarl. “If you believe I’ll sit back and let you hurt him again, you can think again.”
And then she was...well, she was dragging him. He could have stopped it, of course. She wasn’t strong enough to pull him against his will, but he was so stunned he followed her until they’d rounded the corner and she slumped against a wall.
He took her into his arms as fear replaced every other emotion. She was too pale, her breathing labored. “Lily, are you alright?”
She nodded quickly. And then she shook her head.
That was when he saw tears welling in her eyes.
He tugged her into his arms. “Are you ill? Shall I call for a doctor? Your mother? Shall I—”
“No, I—” She stopped with a gasp. “I am not sick. I am just…” She covered her face with her hands. “I caused a scene back there.”
Relief crashed through him and he held her closer. Her words registered a moment later. She had caused a scene. And dragging him away from the party…