But before he could finish, he was glancing over to see a clearly curious Charlotte staring right back.
Abigail watched him, noting with amusement and a pang of something bittersweet the way he gulped helplessly in the face of Charlotte’s sudden interest. He turned back to her with a clearing of his throat. “And I suppose you mean to tell me that you’re here to help me out of the goodness of your heart?”
She laughed. “Of course not. I have as much need of this ruse as you do.” She laughed again, this time a little louder than necessary as she touched his arm again.
He looked down at her hand on his arm. “This ruse of yours...does it often get you what you want?”
Never. “Almost always. And this time it’s about to benefit you.”
He opened his mouth to retort but they were interrupted by—no surprise at all—Charlotte and her mother. Lady Ainsworth was quick to make the introductions and Abigail tried not to sneer as Charlotte simpered and fluttered her lashes as she curtseyed.
Soon enough, however, Charlotte turned to Abigail. “Lady Abigail, what a delightful surprise. I did not think you’d wish to join us here today.”
The gleam in her eyes had Abigail’s belly knotting in anticipation.
Charlotte’s eyes widened with feigned concern and she lowered her voice, but not so much that everyone around them could not hear. “Lord and Lady Merrick are expected to attend.” She winced as if in sympathy. “I thought perhaps you’d rather not see them, given your history.”
Abigail’s blood ran cold, though she’d steeled her expression well enough to hide it. That tight, knotted sensation sank into the pit of her stomach as she glanced over at Major Mayfield. Had he heard about her history with Lily? The way she’d treated her friend so horribly that first season just so that she could shine? Or worse, had he heard about her disastrous courtship with Merrick and the way she’d dropped him in favor of his brother?
Don’t believe everything you hear, she wanted to tell him. There is more to the story.
But she couldn’t tell from his expression whether Charlotte’s words meant anything to him or not. And even if they did, he’d no doubt believe the sordid tale. Everyone else did. And why shouldn’t he?
She’d given no one, least of all him, any reason to believe that she was anything other than her mother’s daughter.
5
Alex looked between the two women, his brow furrowing the smallest bit. Was it his imagination or was Charlotte making Abigail uncomfortable?
The brunette’s expression was so simply demure that he could hardly believe Charlotte had been intentional in her barbs, but he could feel Abigail shift next to him, her chin dropping the tiniest bit. The part of him that wanted to rush in and protect had the urge to step in front of Abigail and shield her from...from the woman he intended to court.
He gave himself a mental shake. Perhaps Max had good cause to be concerned, after all. Abigail was clearly working her way into his thoughts and planting little seeds of doubt into his plans.
He straightened.
He didn’t allow anyone to distract him when he had a mission.
Miss Charlotte cleared her throat. “But perhaps they’ll leave early. Many of the guests here at the picnic are on their way to Lord and Lady Arundel’s home for a brief repose from London.”
“I received an invitation as well.” Abigail notched her chin.
“Did you?” Charlotte asked, giving the smallest smirk. “I’m so glad they still include you.”
Alex straightened, resisting the urge to once again step in front of Abigail. Not that she needed rescuing. If any woman could care for herself, it was this one.
“I’m glad too,” Abigail answered, her voice as pleasant as if they were discussing the weather. “They are a wonderful group of ladies.”
“You used to be friends with the duchess, didn’t you?”
Alex cleared his throat. Though Abigail didn’t need his saving, he couldn't help but step in. “Will you be there, Miss Charlotte?”
“I will.” She smiled at him. “And yourself?”
“Yes,” he answered, his brow furrowing. Visiting with Max and Marigold would be wonderful, of course. But there was just a little niggle of doubt about his plan to court Charlotte.
“Perhaps we could stroll about the pond and discuss the party,” Charlotte gave him a hopeful smile even as her mother grimaced, poking her daughter discreetly in the ribs. Charlotte, however, was distracted long enough for Abigail to snap open her fan and whisper from behind its folds. “Say no.”
For a second, he looked at her, completely perplexed. Why would he say no to such an invitation? It was the one he’d been hoping for. But then again, he somehow trusted Abigail to understand this situation better than he himself did. Which struck him as completely odd. When had that happened? “I do apologize, Miss Charlotte, but I am travelling with Lord and Lady Arundel and I must depart the picnic momentarily.”
Charlotte’s mouth turned down, her shoulders slumping for a moment before she perked back up again. “But we shall have plenty of time together this weekend.”
“Indeed,” he answered, giving a final bow as Miss Charlotte departed with her mother. He turned to look at the maven on his other side. Abigail wore a smug smile. “Do you mind telling me why I just denied the very woman I am trying to pursue?”
Her grin widened. “Don’t you know? She wants you even more for the rejection.” She tapped him playfully with her fan. “When it comes to courtship, it’s all about strategy and tactics. You should understand that well, Major.”
His lips parted in surprise as he recognized the truth in her words. He only just stifled a laugh. “I suspect you are quite lethal on this front, Lady Abigail. The French would quake in their boots if they saw you coming.”
Her eyes twinkled at that. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And…” She tilted her head just a touch closer, close
