The man she loved.
The man she had to find some way of convincing to marry her. The man she had to make realize he loved her every bit as much as she loved him. Stubborn virgin rakehell that he was.
“Thank you,” she said simply, turning her attention back to the discussion at hand. “Please, do tell me what it is that you require. I will be happy to help however I may.”
Lady Adele hesitated, as if she were struggling to find the proper words. “I was wondering if you might convince my older sister that you have invited me to remain here with your family as a guest, beyond Christmastide.”
It was not the sort of favor Christabella would have guessed she would request. And certainly surprising, coming from a duke’s daughter. Why would Lady Adele wish to remain?
“You want to stay on at Abingdon House?” she asked. “Consider it done. My brother is remaining in residence for at least the next fortnight, before returning to London.”
“That is the crux of the matter, I am afraid, and the necessity for the favor,” Lady Adele said, her expression strained. “You see, I…need to go away. I am not certain just where yet, as I have not had the proper time to formulate my plan, but before I can do anything, I must convince my sister to leave me behind. That way, I will be unencumbered and free to make the decisions I must.”
“But why must you go away?” Christabella’s curiosity could not be restrained. “And why lie to your sister? Surely she would understand.”
“This is a matter most delicate,” Lady Adele said, her voice so low it was almost a whisper. “I dare not involve anyone else.”
She struggled to comprehend what matter would lead to Lady Adele’s flight and could think of only one thing. And that one thing seemed decidedly unlikely for a reserved, shy wallflower.
“Will you not confide in me, at least?” she asked, feeling a strong surge of empathy for the other woman. “If you are in trouble, perhaps I may be of assistance.”
“I am in trouble, but the trouble is of my own making.” Lady Adele paused, biting her lip and pressing a hand over her abdomen. “I do not want anyone else to be hurt by what I have done, and that includes you, Miss Winter. You will grant me all the aid I require in persuading my sister to allow me to linger here.”
“But where will you go, if you have no intention to remain here at Abingdon Hall?” she pressed. “You can hardly intend to disappear. A lady such as yourself, alone in the world…why, it would be dangerous.”
“Not any more dangerous than the future facing me, I fear.” Lady Adele looked grim.
Christabella could not help but to wonder how her future could be so grim when she was the daughter of a duke. When she was lovely, her lineage impeccable, her deportment forever above reproach.
But she said nothing, for her newfound friend seemed to wish to guard her secrets. “Whatever happens,” she said, speaking as much to herself as to Lady Adele, “everything will work out as it ought. Even if it seems impossible.”
She had to believe it, for without hope, what remained?
Chapter Eleven
“You have surrendered,”Ash pronounced, disgust evident in his tone. “By God, Gill, I never thought I would see the day.”
Morning had dawned grim and bleak, just as the day before had been. But he and his brother were on their customary ride despite the threat of another snowfall looming on the horizon. It was rather indicative of Gill’s mood.
He had spent the remainder of yesterday wallowing in his own self-pity to such a degree that he had actually called for some brandy. He had fallen into bed in a stupor and had risen to the devil’s own headache.
Along with the unshakeable heartache that had been his steady companion since he had watched Christabella Winter walk out of his bedchamber—and mayhap his life—the day before.
“I did not surrender,” he corrected his brother at length, his voice sharper than he intended as he defended himself. “I did the only thing I could do.”
“The only thing to do is to wed her, and yet you told her to marry someone else.”
His brother was irritatingly right.
He winced. The day was deuced cold, as was the rapidly dawning fear he had made an insurmountable mistake. “I did what was right, what was fair. Christabella deserves a man who can love her. I am incapable of it.”
Ash scoffed. “What rot. You think yourself incapable of love?”
“There is something inherently wrong with me,” he said, shifting uncomfortably in his saddle. “Whatever softness I had was beaten out of me by our father, or lost somewhere deep inside the chamber where he kept me locked for days on end.”
“The bastard locked you in a chamber?” Ash demanded.
Belatedly, Gill realized how much he had just revealed.
