Sarah blinked at the other woman who was so clearly not welcome amongst Marigold’s friends, and too young to be spending all her time with Sarah’s mother and the other matrons. “I beg your pardon?”
Abigail arched her brows as if to say, don’t try and fool me. “You are devastated, am I right?” Sarah’s mouth gaped but Abigail continued as though she did not expect a response. “Trust me.” She pushed the book toward her again. “It’s easier to feign interest in poetry than to keep that smile on your face while you just want to go off alone and weep.”
Sarah blinked again, but this time in understanding.
Abigail knew. How much, that was to be determined, but clearly she recognized Sarah’s pain. “Thank you.”
Abigail shrugged. “You’re the only person at this event who even pretends to be nice to me. Consider this my payment.”
Sarah let out a short huff of laughter. “You don’t have to pay me for being polite. It’s my duty as a hostess.”
Abigail gave a small grin of acknowledgment. “I appreciate the honesty that you’re only being nice because you have to, but even so...your kindness is genuine. Even at that last house party when Lily and the others were so very angry with me…”
“For good reason,” Sarah pointed out.
Abigail shrugged. “Possibly. But even so, you were kind. And I repay kindness because I don’t like to be in anyone’s debt.”
Sarah eyed the other woman for a long moment, trying to see past those pursed lips and the haughty set of her chin. Beneath all that she could have sworn she’d seen a flicker of something...something almost human.
Sinking back into the seat she let out a long sigh. “Well, whatever your reasons, I’ll happily accept the prop.” She held up the book and turned it to read the title on the spine. “Was it so very obvious that I am upset?”
She’d tried to keep her tone casual, but she braced herself for Abigail’s brutal honesty.
“Yes,” she said shortly.
And there it was. Sarah winced as she feigned interest in the book, flipping through the pages.
“But,” Abigail continued, fidgeting on the seat beside Sarah. “It’s likely no one else noticed.”
“But you did,” Sarah said.
“Yes, but I have some experience in this matter.”
Sarah cast the other woman a quick look of surprise. Abigail had suffered heartbreak? The thought of the other woman feeling anything close to...this... This stabbing sensation as though her heart had been sliced in two…
It made her feel a surge of affection for the woman who was so ill-liked by all the others. “You had your heart broken?”
Abigail sniffed, her gaze roaming over the others as though she were judging this crowd and finding it severely lacking.
“Lily’s husband?” Sarah guessed.
Abigail’s laugh was short and humorless. “Merrick?” She waved a dismissive hand. “Please.”
Sarah blinked and studied the other woman, wishing they were close enough friends that Abigail might tell her who it was that had broken her heart and, more importantly—how she had recovered.
Abigail turned to her sharply. “I do hope you are not this crestfallen over that toad Mr. Stallworth.”
Sarah gave a quick shake of her head. Heavens no. The humiliation and wounded pride she’d suffered at the hands of Mr. Stallworth was nothing like this. That was a tiny cut compared to this gaping wound.
She held her breath as another wave of pain swept over her.
Had she been wrong to turn Theo away so quickly?
Had she been too hasty?
She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, forcing her mind to work, to replay all she’d overheard. Once again she was struck by how little he must think of her.
She winced at the memory of how she’d stuck up for Mr. Stallworth, how she’d pined for nearly two years.
Perhaps he thought ill of her for good reason. But then again…
She remembered what Mr. Stallworth had said, about how Theo had driven him off. How he’d told him he’d never allow them to marry.
Him. An earl. Max’s best friend.
It was as good a rejection of marriage as if it had come from Max himself. He’d intervened and he’d ended that relationship before it had ever begun and…
Her hands shook in her lap at all the time she’d wasted because he hadn’t told her. He’d let her pine over an unworthy man for eighteen months rather than tell her he’d ended it for her. Or even rather than explain what type of man he thought Stallworth to be.
She gave her head a shake as Abigail covered her trembling hands with her own. Perhaps she wouldn’t have listened. Maybe she would have been too pigheaded back then to pay him any mind.
But today… Today was different. He could have gone to her, he could have let her have a say, he could have heard her side of the story, but he had not.
She took a deep breath and turned her hand to clasp Abigail’s as though the other woman was a lifeline. She cast her new friend a quick look and saw nothing but sympathy there where there was normally nothing but disdain.
“So, it is definitely hopeless then?” Abigail asked.
Sarah let out a long weary sigh as she thought back to the way he’d shown that lack of trust and respect for a second time today. “Yes,” she said softly. “I’m afraid it is.”
13
Theo trudged through the snow, his glower ensuring the men around him left him a six-foot circle of solitude as they began to cut boughs from the evergreen trees on the property.
Which worked out well for him.
He didn’t wish to make small talk about the upcoming hunt, or the possibility of kisses stolen under the mistletoe.
He’d have preferred to stay back at the house and stare into a crackling fire as he considered just how this morning had gone so terribly wrong.
It was a beautiful holiday wrapped in a wedding. There could not be a more romantic setting and yet he’d managed to drive away the woman who’d finally broken through the walls he’d built around his heart.
He was a fool.
The word made him snort. All this talk of Sarah’s immaturity. Was he any better? He’d run from his feelings, hid behind his anger at Stallworth, and allowed himself to waffle in his decisions until he’d completely pushed her away.
Not that he had any assurance she’d ever return his feelings. But if he’d been more understanding, more trusting…
He blew warm air onto his cold hands as he straightened, casting his gaze about the group.
The only reason he’d come was standing two feet from Max. Mr. Stallworth had joined the party and he’d shadowed Max the entire trek out to the forest.
Theo didn’t have a clue what the other man was up to but he knew it was likely no good. Which was why he’d dragged himself out into the snow to cut boughs and mistletoe.
However angry Sarah was, whatever else she thought, he’d keep her safe. He might have misstepped but he’d always had her best interest at heart.
He was in love with her.
Which made this all so much more difficult. Because her telling him that she was too strong for a man who didn’t trust her to make good decisions both made him intensely proud and intensely hurt all in the same breath.