Chapter 13

The evening was as tedious as Robert had known it would be. And it had only just begun.

He stood in the receiving line beside his mother, scowling at the never-ending queue of arriving guests.

It seemed that he’d created quite the stir when he’d sent out invitations to a ball at Montvale Hall.

Not least because an invitation to a ball hadn’t been issued in eight years. While his father believed in keeping up appearances, Robert did not. As soon as he’d ascended to the title, Robert stopped hosting parties, and dinners, and anything else that meant having to spend time in the company of his peers.

Robert stood there, his mood growing steadily darker as more and more people came to gawp at him. He felt like a spectacle in a travelling circus.

“Smile, dear. You’re scaring our guests,” his mother whispered furiously, even as she maintained her smile for the stream of gentry coming through the doors.

“They can’t be that scared, or they wouldn’t be here,” Robert bit back mutinously.

He noticed with grim satisfaction that most of the arriving guests didn’t quite meet his eye as they bowed and curtsied to him.

They were obviously nervous around him. No doubt terrified to be in the presence of the Monster of Montvale Hall.

The moniker bothered him more now than it ever had.

He was starting to think that perhaps he wasn’t quite the monster he had assumed himself to be for all these years.

In these last weeks, he’d felt lighter. Younger.

Since his talk with his mother…

No, it wasn’t just that. It was Abigail. Since she’d barrelled into his world and filled it with smiles and outrageousness, nonsensical talk about birds kissing, and an abundance of wildflowers, he felt something akin to happiness.

And more than that, he started to believe that he didn’t have to carry the weight of his guilt and grief around forever. Certainly, he didn’t have to let it consume his whole life.

Perhaps it was time to start focusing on something else. Something more positive. Something that could maybe make his soul worth sharing.

As if his thoughts had somehow made her appear, Robert looked up, and there she was.

Abby was making her way toward Robert and the dowager, oblivious to the commotion she was causing as she sailed through the crowd.

With her arm in James’s, she glided toward him, not hearing the twittering from the ladies or noticing, Robert’s temper flared, the lascivious glances from the gentlemen.

More than once he’d thought of her as doll-like with her golden curls and big blue eyes. Her skin as smooth as the finest china.

But tonight, she looked all real, all woman.

Her dress was a deep, peacock blue. Either his mother had failed to inform Abigail of the traditions regarding single ladies being confined to pastels or whites, or Abby had chosen to flout the nonsensical rule.

Whatever the reason, Robert was eternally grateful.

For the dress, the colour brightening the blue of her eyes, the cut skimming her body like a lover’s caress, merely confirmed what he already knew—she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

And he wanted her with a fierceness he’d never before felt.

James and Abby came to a stop in front of Robert and his mother, and even though James issued a greeting, Robert could not drag his eyes from Abigail.

She dipped a curtsy, first to his mother, then to him, blushing prettily when she caught his gaze.

“My dear, you look beautiful.” The dowager leaned forward to kiss Abigail on the cheek. “I knew you would be an absolute sensation.”

“A bold colour choice, I thought.” James grinned. “I brought her here so you could school her in the ways of decorum, your grace, not be even more scandalous than when she arrived.”

Because Robert was watching her so closely, he saw the delicate blush that came to her cheeks at James’s joking words.

“Oh, fiddlesticks.” The dowager waved off his concerns. “We are not in London yet, so the rules aren’t quite as rigid. Besides, I wanted people talking about her before we arrived. And it’s working,” she finished triumphantly.

At the dowager’s words, Abby’s eyes widened then darted around the room.

The blush in her cheeks grew scarlet as she saw for the first time the effect she was having.

“Goodness,” she laughed. “Are you sure this is a good idea, your grace?”

“It is a terrific idea” the dowager responded stoutly. “You’re already beautiful, dear. There’s no hiding that. When we get to Town, we’ll make sure you’re in more appropriate colours.”

Abigail took a deep breath before pasting a determined smile on her face.

“You know best,” she said. “Though—every other young lady seems to be in white. I look—”

“Perfect.”

The word slipped out before he could retract it. But it was true, and Robert hated seeing her overset, though he refused to examine why.

“You look perfect,” he repeated softly.

Though Robert could feel the stares of his mother and best friend boring into him, he kept his gaze trained only on Abigail.

She swallowed hard before smiling tentatively up at him.

“Thank you, your grace,” she said quietly.

The heavy silence was finally broken by the dowager.

“Well, it’s time to start the dancing. Robert, I know that you will not open the ball, but if James—”

“Miss Langton,” Robert cut across his mother. “Would you do me the honour of dancing the first with me?”

He didn’t know what had gotten into him.

He usually played his cards so close to his chest. Yet here he was, telling Abby that she looked perfect and asking her to dance the opening cotillion.

And he knew what this would mean. It would send tongues wagging like never before.

The gossip would spread like wildfire.

The monster and the American beauty.

He could just imagine what it would mean for Abby’s entrée into Society.

Plus, it would practically wave a banner above his head saying that he was ready to walk amongst the living again. And with that came ghastly invitations, afternoon colours and, God help him, matchmakers.

Robert wasn’t ready for that.

He couldn’t get a handle on how he felt about so many things in his life right now. He was nowhere near ready to be a subject of London chatter.

And yet…

The idea of anyone else being the one to take Abigail in his arms was enough to make him murderous.

So, he’d blurted out the request before the dowager could send her off to be mobbed by dandies and fops.

And now he knew he had set himself up for his mother’s interrogation, James’s suspicion, and Abigail’s—

Delight?

He could swear that’s what he was looking at in her face, in her cornflower eyes as they lit up.

“I’d be honoured, your grace.” She smiled, and Robert could practically feel another brick crumbling from the wall around his heart.

Sparing not a glance for his mother or James, Robert held out his arm.

As soon as Abigail placed her white-gloved hand on his elbow, memories of their kisses flooded his senses.

His instinct was to recoil. Run away and drown in his darkness and his grief.

But he wouldn’t do it. Not this night.

Tonight, he would dance with a beautiful woman, watch his mother blossom into a living, breathing person again, and maybe even have a small reprieve from the monster inside him.

Abigail tried to keep the smile on her face as Robert escorted her to the centre of the ballroom.

But it was becoming steadily more difficult.

She’d never considered herself to be the shy or retiring type, but the level of scrutiny she was currently under was excruciating.

It could be the daring colour the dowager had convinced her it would be all right to wear.

It could be that she was new to these shores and people were curious about her.

However, she suspected that it was more likely to be the fact that the Monster of Montvale Hall himself was not only hosting a ball in his home but was about to open it.

With a stranger.

In New York, such a thing would cause weeks’ worth of gossip. In a Northumberland village, it would probably be talked about for years.

She heaved a sigh, trying to rally her courage.

People started to tentatively couple up on either side of her and Robert, but they certainly kept their distance.

Abigail’s heart hammered. Not just because of the blatant staring she was currently enduring but because in just moments, Robert would be touching her, dancing with her.

“That was quite a sigh, Abby. Are you regretting your agreement to dance with me?”

He spoke quietly enough for his words to reach her ears alone, and Abby blinked up at him, shocked and pleased to see a smile playing around his lips.

He was teasing her, she realised. Actually teasing. He didn’t even look like he’d been forced into the room against his will.

In light of his nonchalance about the attention they were drawing, Abby’s own courage grew, and she found herself suddenly not caring who was looking at them or why.

All that mattered was that Robert was holding her hand and smiling down at her and looking younger and more carefree than she’d ever seen him.

Abby arched a brow as the orchestra plucked out the opening chords of the dance.

“I’m not sure yet, your grace,” she quipped. “I have never seen you dance. For all I know, you have two left feet, which you will tramp all over me.”

Robert treated her to one of his swift, heart-stopping grins.

“Minx,” he growled softly, sending all manner of delicious shivers along her spine. “I’ll have you know, I am an impeccable dancer.”

Abby laughed at his haughty tone, relishing this new side of him.

She couldn’t imagine what had affected such a change in him. Oh, but she loved it.

“Because you are such a prolific dancer?”

“Oh, no. My dancing is so wonderful, I save it for very special occasions. To give the others a chance.” He winked.

“And this is a special occasion?” she asked.

He bowed, and she curtsied as the beginning strains of the music began.

In seconds, any meaningful conversation would be rendered nigh on impossible.

“It is,” he answered simply.

The dance began, and Robert took her hand, stepping toward her then back.

“What makes it so special?” she asked.

A sudden gleam of emotion turned his eyes to molten silver, and Abigail’s heart fluttered wildly in response.

“You do,” he whispered before turning away to continue the dance.