The countess laughed. “Deal. Now go on and get ready for dinner. Try to at least look presentable, if only to lift my spirits.”
Abigail shook her head noncommittally as she exited the room.
Back in her own room, she opened her wardrobe and caressed the garnet gown. It was beautiful, but she wasn’t that person anymore. She wasn’t the daughter of a marquess or the wife of a lord. Had not been in years. She had chosen a simple, quiet life. Devoid of privilege. But maybe she could wear the blue velvet? It was demure, but certainly more cheerful than her dreary gray day gowns. She sighed.
Dinner with an earl required a bit of effort. Even if one was not trying to entice said earl.
CHAPTER 5
COLIN DESCENDED THEsteps in route to the breakfast parlor at seven of the clock the next morning. Just because he had achieved less than four hours of sleep the night before was no reason to change his habits. Besides, there was much to do.
Last night during dinner with the countess and Abigail, they had hinted at potential problems with the estate. He had to meet with the estate manager, assess the situation, and attend to a myriad of other issues that would no doubt arise from that assessment.
But the estate’s problems had not been what caused his troubled sleep. Oh no. It had been Abigail. She had been a vision in dark blue velvet. The dress had been simple, demure. And yet the color emphasized her alabaster skin and slate eyes. She wore her dark brown hair in a low chignon and he had wanted to undo it, run his fingers through the mass of shiny curls and see them riot over his pillow.
It wasn’t only her physical beauty that hit him like a punch to his solar plexus. In the brief moments they had spent together, he had already discerned that she was as kind as she was beautiful. The quiet solicitude she displayed towards his invalid step-mother. Her lack of pretension. Her quiet strength. They were all qualities as alluring as the pure composition of her face.
He desired her. Plain and simple. If the situation was different, if they were different people, he would have liked to court this woman. But he was a misshapen beast, no proper match for a beauty such as her. And she lived in his home. Slept under his roof. Was under his protection. And therefore, was untouchable.
By the time he approached the breakfast room, his mood had taken a turn for the worse. His face had probably arranged into the ferocious lines that intimidated people and made him seem unfriendly. He stepped through the door and stopped as the object of his thoughts seemed to materialize right in front of him.
She was already there, serving herself from a plate of eggs at the sideboard. Her gaze met his and even at this distance, the impact of those eyes was like a lightning strike to his heart.
“Abigail.” he rasped, cleared his throat and tried again. “Good morning. I didn’t think anyone would be awake so early.”
She smiled one of those quiet smiles of hers and replied. “I always wake up early. There’s so much to do.”
“Is that so? What do you do in the mornings?”
“Sometimes I visit the tenants. Or I meet with the housekeeper, or the gardeners, then attend to any matter that may arise.”
“I see.” He said, taking a plate for himself and beginning to fill it with the offerings from the sideboard. There were eggs, potatoes, bacon, sausages. Everything one could desire, and judging by the smell wafting from the warmed dishes, it was all delicious.
It was obvious the house ran like a well-oiled machine, and since his stepmother was an invalid, it had to be Abigail’s doing. He added capable to the growing list of her virtues.
“Here, let me carry your plate.” He extended his hand, and she passed her half full plate to him after heaping a helping of sausages onto it.
