A Hero for Lady Abigail by Dallen, Maggie (top novels of all time txt) 📗

up to see his good friend Max standing before him. How had the man snuck up on him like that? Clearly, Alex had been lost in his musings.

“Lord Arundel,” he stood in greeting, giving a short bow before he reached for his friend’s hand. “Good to see you.”

“And you as well,” Max answered. “I see you’re nearly done. Do you have business to attend or might I join you?”

“Please,” Alex swept his hand toward the empty chair on the other side of the table. “Your company is always welcome.”

Max took the offered chair. “It’s good to see you. It’s been a few months since last we spoke.”

Alex quirked a brow. “It has.” He didn’t blame his friend for the prolonged silence. Max had been distracted by his new bride. “How is Marigold?”

Max looked down at the table, but he didn’t quite hide his grin. “She is very well. I shall tell her you asked.”

“Do.” Alex sat back, relaxing into his chair. “I haven’t seen you in the club for some time. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

Max’s smile slipped and his mouth pressed into a straight line. “I came to see you, actually.”

Alex silently waited for his friend to continue. Had the investment that Max made for him gone sour? Was something wrong with Max? Or Marigold?

Max cleared his throat. “Rumors about town say that you’ve been seen at several of society’s soirees.”

Alex blinked several times. That was what Max came to talk about? “I thought something was wrong. You had me worried.”

Max gave him a sidelong glance. “And you have Marigold worried, which means I am forced to be worried. There’s a great deal of worrying all around, apparently.”

A ghost of a smile touched Alex’s lips. “And why, pray tell, do I have your good wife concerned?”

“First, because you are a natural introvert so it’s odd to see you about town. Second, you’ve yet to accept the invitation to our house party this weekend. Marigold is in fits that you would be socializing with everyone but us.”

Alex scrubbed his jaw as he assessed his friend. “Tell Marigold there is no need to be troubled. My participation in society is a targeted strike, so to speak.”

“Targeted at whom?” Max asked, leaning forward, his features intent.

“Why do you ask?” While Alex appreciated their concern, he really did, but he didn’t understand why Max was suddenly involved. He’d been attending events for weeks now as he’d first attempted to choose a woman and now pursue her.

Max cleared his throat, shifting in his chair. “It’s just that…” Max took a breath. “Last night you were seen dancing with Lady Abigail Purewater.”

Alex’s jaw clenched. It seemed gossip traveled faster than the wind. “And this concerns you?”

“More or less,” Max spread his hands before him on the table. “The ladies—”

“Max,” Alex cut him off. “I can assure you that as a grown man, I have the situation well in hand. I’m very aware of the sort of woman Abigail is and I don’t need warnings or advice at this juncture.”

Max grimaced. “I assumed as much. I mean you were there, when Marigold and I met, and you saw Lady Abigail’s behavior at that party.”

His brows scrunched. She could be forward, a bit caustic, but had Abigail’s behavior really warranted the level of concern Max was displaying? He suspected there was more to it than that. But did he ask? Alex shook his head. He’d not participate in gossip, even with Max. “I did.”

“And the bad blood between her and Lily…” Max lifted his hand.

Ah, so there was more to it. Curiosity niggled at his gut, but he firmly shoved all questions aside. He’d told Lady Abigail he did not trade in rumors and gossip, and he’d meant it.

“Be careful with that one, that’s all,” Max said.

Alex grimaced. Did Abigail really warrant this sort of warning? She surely had her flaws, but she was also… he searched for the right word. Fun? No, that couldn’t be it. Unpredictable, perhaps. She was interesting, that was all. Out of the norm, to be certain, but he hardly believed that made her a threat. “If you must know, I’m trying to pursue another. Miss Charlotte Ainsworth.”

Max’s lips parted for a moment before he pressed them together. “Really? Her?”

He stared at his friend. His judgment was being questioned at every turn. “Have you ever known me to rush into bad decisions?”

“No,” Max confessed. “But I’m surprised you find Miss Charlotte of interest. She’s a bit…” He stopped, looking up at the ceiling.

Alex shook his head. “Don’t tell me. I want my head to be clear for our first meeting.”

Max sat back in his chair. “You haven’t met her yet? And you're attending all these parties?”

Alex winced. His friend had a point. He had treated this search a bit more like a military operation rather than an organic experience. “I’ve nothing better to do.”

Max chuckled. “Fair enough.” Then he gave Alex another smile. “But I’m fairly certain that I saw Miss Charlotte’s name on our guest list. If you truly want some time with her, you should come. Then Marigold can cease worrying and you will get some time with your prospective lady.”

That was an excellent plan. “Tell Marigold I’d be delighted to attend.”

“Good,” Max reached across the table and slapped his arm. “We’re leaving this afternoon if you’d like to join us.”

He gave a nod of assent. A weekend with Charlotte was just what he needed.

4

Abigail’s mother was still muttering her displeasure when they disembarked the carriage the next afternoon. “You don’t even like picnics.”

“But Charlotte Ainsworth does,” Abigail murmured as she straightened her skirts and took in the scene at the park before them. As usual, they’d arrived fashionably late and a sea of white dresses dotted the lawns. Charlotte was one of those specks of white.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, Mother.” She turned to watch her mother adjust her bonnet. She looked perfectly put together even though she’d been griping all morning about attending a