(COMPLETED)
Before the Duke of Wardington, before marriage, and before the games of marrying off his three sons and their friends, there was simply Lord Martin...
There's only one sort for a rogue and that's more rogues.
So... when Martin and his f...
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The sweet adolescent tune of Il pleut, il pleut, bergère rang from Abigail's soft soprano voice as a male servant played the piano jovially. The simple song translated into, 'It's raining, it's raining, shepherdess.' There was nothing romantic about the song, which was exactly what Abigail was pushing for.
She ignored the subtle scowl on her father's brow and concentrated on Dorothea Kersey, who was all but glowing after every song. She was very pretty up close with kind brown eyes and stylish blond hair. And she truly enjoyed music.
It was all the lady had spoken about since arriving at the house. She herself had performed at Covent Garden and had one of the best voices that Abigail had ever heard. There had even been portions in Abigail's own performance where Miss Kersey would harmonize with her, which was always a surprise... and a treat. And, contrary to what Abigail had expected... she liked her.
When the song came to an end, Miss Kersey stood and applauded. "You've a marvelous voice, dear. Simply divine. You should perform in the opera."
Abigail ducked her head under the praise. It was so foreign to her ears. Like another language. Did she really sing that well?
"Plaisir d'amor." The request came from her father, who only calmed at Miss Kersey's obvious pleasure. Still, he hadn't expected the little ditties that Abigail had insisted on singing. He wanted something heavy. "Plaisir d'amor," he said again. It translated to The Pleasure of Love.
Miss Kersey caught her eyes and smiled before taking her seat. The two stared at one another to the point that Abigail wondered if she'd been forgotten and could simply leave the room.
But with a gesture from her father, the pianist struck the notes and the song began to flow into the room. And then Abigail added the words.
The joys of love are but a moment long
The pain of love endures the whole life long
Your eyes kissed mine, I saw the love in them shine
You brought me heaven right there when your eyes kissed mine
My love loves me, a world of wonder I see
A rainbow shines through my window; my love loves me
The song was actually a depressing tune about losing love and how it never lasts very long... and if the gossip about Miss Kersey were correct, she never stayed with any man for too long. She only had relationships with gentleman of the ton and then other singers and actors, but the relationships always ended... and always on her terms. Abigail had never thought of her father as one of those men, but apparently he was.
When Abigail was done, Miss Kersey turned away from her father and said, "Beautiful voice, dear."
Her father stood. "Good evening, Abigail." She'd done her duty. Now, she was being dismissed.
Abigail curtseyed and started for the door.
Miss Kersey called to her, "I hope to see you at the Heath Ball."
Abigail nodded toward her, "As do I. Good evening, Miss Kersey." And then she fled to her room.
The next morning, Abigail was practicing her needlework when a maid came to the door.
"Lord Charles Hatcher to see you, ma'am. Are you receiving?"
Abigail looked down at her needlework and then back up at the maid. Her heart had started to beat rapidly from the moment she heard the door open. She could hear voices beyond. Two men. One of them was her father, so the other had to be Charles.
"Ma'am?" the maid called again, complete patience on her face while her mistress was losing her mind.
"Uh..." She quickly got to her feet. "Yes." Then, before the maid could leave, she went to put her needlework into a drawer and snapped it closed. Then, righting herself, she took a quick breath and straightened her skirts. Then she stood there for a moment and stared at the door. It only took her a few seconds to feel foolish. The pose seemed desperate, as though she had waited her entire life for this moment. That was not how she wanted to appear... although in reality, this was exactly what she'd been waiting for. The prospect of marriage. It was the only thing a woman in her position truly had to look forward to. A husband. Someone she could waltz with and host a small party with. Not that Charles wished to marry her.
But he was her first male caller, so Abigail didn't blame herself too harshly for jumping to the thought. After all, was there any other reason a man would pay call? No, there wasn't. But she still didn't want to seem desperate.
She was just about to move when the door opened once more and there he was.
He looked taller in the doorframe. His dark hair was pushed back, not a single hair ever out of place. And he studied her... as he had for the past few days. She opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped. Was she to speak first?
"Hello, Lady Irwin," he began.
The formal address caught her off guard, but she followed suit with a courtesy, "Lord Lawson." She decided they were either being formal because of her father's presence or for the reason he'd come today. To see her, not an acquaintance of their circle of friends, but as a woman.
He grinned and stepped further into the room, his eyes never leaving hers. Then one of his hands came from behind his back and a he was holding a bouquet of the whitest, most erect lilies she'd ever seen.
Her smile grew as he came closer. "These are for you. I visited three shops before I found these."
Her eyes widened. "You picked them yourself?"
"They had to be perfect," he said with all authority, as though it were obvious. "They had to be perfect, as you are perfect." And the compliment was done in the same fashion, as though it were a known fact and he had not said them to make her melt.
Her fingers trembled as he took the flowers from him, and their gloved hands brushed. A fire started in her belly. "Thank you," she managed to get out in a wobbly voice.
"I've also taken the liberty of asking your father if it were possible to go for an open carriage ride... if it would please you..." And then he was smiling again, as though he knew nothing would please her more.
Abigail wasn't sure how she felt about him asking her father before asking her. After all, she was the one he was courting. But it shocked her that her father would allow her this. There was so much order in the Irwin house. Her days were set and only when her lessons were done was she allowed to visit Sally, as Sally was a high-ranking daughter like her. But she supposed allowances were made for this new venture. Courting. Men paying call. It was all new. Already, Charles had triggered more than one emotion. Astonishment. Fear at the possibility that she would mess up, but also a self-confidence given from the fact that he wanted her. She could see it in his eyes and couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever made her feel as though she were of value. The feelings left her staggered. What would it be like to be in a carriage? His carriage!
"If you prefer it, we could stay here and—"
"No," she quickly cut in and then looked up into his dark eyes and pulled a smile together. "I would love nothing more than to go for a ride with you."
