“You cannot mean to tell me that you do not wish to go to London.” Her aunt made it sound so ludicrous that Abigail sipped her tea rather than answer.
Perhaps she was daft, after all, because she truly did have no desire to go to the city. She had even less desire to dance and flirt and make pleasant small talk with a crowd of well-mannered dandies. Her mind called up images of false smiles and chatter that only served to fill the air with more air, just hotter.
The thought filled her with dread. She’d never fit in before, and she had no reason to suspect that she would now.
She stared down into her teacup. She’d been to London. Of course she had. And even in Billingham she’d met the type of gentlemen that her aunt considered eligible, typically at her own home when her father hosted friends and acquaintances along their travels.
Many of those men were eligible.
It was she who was not. She could pretend. Her easygoing nature and her tendency to smile gave her the ability to feign contentment—perhaps even enjoyment—throughout the soirees and dinner parties Rebecca loved to plan. But keeping up that pretense for months on end? Pretending she was not homesick for her sisters and her father and the children of Billingham?
The thought made her stomach sink.
“My dear, if you are worried about your lack of connections, I assure you there are some who would be willing to overlook your flaws.”
“My family is not my flaw,” she said softly. Minerva would have lashed out at that. Sally would have rolled her eyes and had some sort of biting retort. Even Rebecca would have responded with a bit more pertness to her tone.
Oh, how she wished her sisters were here with her. She’d never been any good at standing up for herself. Almost as soon as she thought it she heard Caleb’s voice in her head. Believe me, I know very well how strong and brave you are.
He hadn’t been teasing, not then.
The thought made her smile and had her glancing up to see Aunt Lucinda smiling as well. “There now. You’re almost pretty when you smile like that.”
Her smile faltered. Minerva always liked to say that Abigail had gotten all the beauty in the family. Rubbish, of course, but she would often retort that, in that case, Minerva must have received all the brains.
She could only imagine what Min would say if she were to hear that Aunt Lucinda deemed her ‘almost pretty.’
“Thank you, Aunt Lucinda.” At this particular moment it was enough to imagine what her sisters might say.
Or Caleb.
Her lips tugged upwards again as she tried to imagine it. She almost wished he hadn’t insisted on staying outside with the carriage during her visit. She would have loved to see her aunt’s expression if he were sitting across from her. No doubt growling and glaring in the face of her snobbery.
The thought had Abigail positively beaming as she took another sip of tea.
Her aunt nodded with more certainty. “Yes, my dear. There will definitely be someone you could charm into taking notice, I am sure.”
Her smile faltered again. Charming a man did not sound at all appealing. It sounded like she would be forced to feign interest and force smiles. It sounded to her like months upon months of pretending.
But what other choice did she have?
A large and grumpy face filled her mind and shocked her so thoroughly that her teacup rattled when she set it down.
Goodness. It was one thing to imagine Caleb in her aunt’s drawing room, and quite another to imagine him as a suitor.
Just like that, her active imagination fit him into the role quite neatly.
No, he would never fit in with her aunt and her crowd, but she had no problem imagining him in the role of...
What? Not a suitor in the traditional sense, obviously.
She pictured him growling and glaring at the children even as he helped Polly down from his furniture, so she did not injure herself and how he’d put up with Nicholas’s never-ending questions without complaint.
Well, without any real complaints. And all that grumping and growling was nothing when his actions proved him to be so kind, so gentle, so—
“Am I boring you, Abigail?”
She jerked in her seat as she realized just how far she’d drifted into her fantastical thoughts. “Of course not,” she said stiffly.
And of course she did not really think of Caleb that way. He was kind to her, that was all. And surprisingly easy to talk to. Not like other men she’d met at all.
But she supposed that was also why he was not a gentleman she ought to even consider. Because he was leaving. Hadn’t he said as much? Just as soon as Roger was caught or their shoreline was deemed safe. Just a matter of time.
And she would be right back where he’d found her. In Billingham, teaching children who were not hers and no closer to a family of her own.
She drew in a deep breath and found another smile that she had to hope made her ‘almost pretty’ in her aunt’s eyes. “I was just thinking, Aunt Lucinda. What sort of gowns do you think I will need?”
Her maid was silent as they at last made their way out of the stuffy confines of her aunt’s home and into the fresh crisp air.
She closed her eyes and soaked in the last of the sunshine as it sank below the treeline. At last. While the upcoming trip weighed on her mind, for the moment at least she could go back to her home, to the always welcoming sights and sounds of the seaside, and back to the children and family she loved so much.
Caleb was leaning against the outside of the carriage. For
