Lily sniffed. “Fair point. How about we walk with you, doing our absolute best to keep up?”
It was a compromise he appreciated but if he were being honest, he didn’t want to hear what they had to say. “Fine. But as a gentleman, I warn you, if you’re here to sway me against Abigail then you’re wasting your breath in the walking and the talking.”
“I’m not,” Marigold touched his arm. “Here to sway you against her.”
“You’re not?” came Lily’s incredulous reply.
“I’m not,” Marigold straightened.
Alex stopped again, his attention focused on Marigold’s chocolate brown gaze. “Really?”
“Really.” Marigold reached for his hand, pulling him to move again. “I won’t bore you with the details, but I happen to know for a fact that she cares for you so deeply, she’ll even let you go because she thinks it’s best for you.”
Pride and something else swelled in his chest. What was that sweet emotion, filling him, making him feel lighter? Like a flash, he realized it was love. Pure and sweet. The realization stole his breath and drew in a heavy gulp of air as he looked down at Marigold. “Did she tell you that?”
Lily made a snorting noise of dissent. “Oh please. This is Abigail we’re talking about. Of all the shallow, hateful, mean debutantes—”
“Lily,” he interrupted, once again delivering the same message he’d given to Max. “You speak with such charity, clearly you are a much better person than she.”
Lily’s face turned a shade of red that matched her hair. He winced to know that his blow had hit its mark so completely. It wasn’t a role he relished but he could not listen to her denigrate Abigail. “I know you’re likely angry at me, and later you can tell me how awful I am, but I really am very late.”
They were finally nearing the library, the glow of candles shining out from the open door. Lily began to reply, but voices from within the large room stopped all three of them in their tracks.
“What were you doing all afternoon?” the sharp voice of Lady Gorem cut through the air.
“Riding, Mother,” Abigail answered, sounding more tired than Alex had ever heard her. Defeated might have been the better word.
“You’ve this one season to choose a husband for yourself before your father and I choose for you and yet you’ve squandered an opportunity to spend time with several eligible lords this afternoon?”
Abigail let out a sigh. “That’s right. I needed to clear my head.”
“Disappointing, dear. That’s what you are. It’s no wonder you’re still unmarried. What did I do to deserve such a pathetic excuse of a daughter?”
Lily cleared her throat next to him. “I’d forgotten how difficult her mother could be.”
Difficult? That word didn’t even begin to describe Lady Gorem. Rather than give her daughter an ounce of sympathy, she cut her daughter to shreds.
“I know, Mother. I’m a great disappointment and you’ll absolutely hate it when you have to choose a husband for me.”
Her mother harrumphed. “You should have married the first man I chose for you. Lord Merrick was a fine catch and—”
“Lord Merrick was always meant to be Lily’s.” Abigail’s voice gained some strength with that assertion. “Letting him loose was the only thing I did right that season.”
Lily grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into his flesh, but Alex barely noticed. His own head swam. No wonder Abigail had struggled to make the right choices, the decent choices. She was being harangued at every turn. Anger swelled in his chest.
“You did right? I’m the one who decided you should turn your attention to the heir of the marquessate. Likely a mistake. I overestimated your abilities to capture a man’s fancy. I thought you might be able to tame a rake. I should have known you couldn’t.”
Lily made a noise somewhere between a strangled cry and a growl.
“Why dig up the past now?” Abigail asked. “You’ve won, Mother. Soon you’ll get to choose my match and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”
Her mother’s voice was a poisonous hiss. “That day cannot come soon enough.”
Alex straightened his spine as his fists clenched at his side. The woman he loved needed him and he had every intention of aiding her now. Lady Gorem would not win. Not if he had anything to say about it.
A plan began to form in his mind. A brilliant idea to show Abigail exactly how he felt while saving her from her mother’s vitriol. Was this impulsive? Yes. Absolutely. But it was right. His love needed him.
For the first time in his life he was about to charge into battle without a plan, but he knew exactly what he was fighting for. Abigail’s future. His own.
12
Abigail’s mouth was open, ready to respond to her mother’s last barb, but the words died on her tongue as the partially open door swung wide on its hinges.
Her mother gasped, startled by the major’s abrupt entrance, and no doubt by the sight of Lily and Marigold hovering behind him with wide eyes like they were spectators at some sort of sporting event.
“Alex?” Abigail had been expecting him, of course, but not like this. Not barging in here with a look of such fierce determination.
A thrill ran through her as his heated gaze landed on her. The intensity in his eyes gave her a sudden and terrifying flash of what his enemies must have seen when they faced him across the battlefield.
“Why, Major Mayfield, what are you doing here?” her mother asked, trying to recover her composure.
Abigail flinched. She’d been hoping to slip away from her mother before this little tête-à-tête, but her mother had been particularly formidable this evening. No doubt because Abigail had fled the manor and all social obligations for the better part of the day and her mother knew it.
But now her mother was looking from the major to her with narrowed eyes. “Abigail, what is the meaning of this?”
“Mother,
