Chapter Three
“Icannot believe Ihave no choice in the matter,” Abigail said while pacing the parlor floor the next morning.
“It’s deuced bad luck, I say,” her brother, Lance, the Earl of Durham, told her sympathetically while sipping his third cup of coffee. “Although to be fair, you could have landed on someone far less appealing than Mr. James Townsbridge. Just imagine if Viscount Ribbernitting had been lying on that sofa.”
Abigail shuddered but managed to say, “At least he has a title. Mama and Papa would have been a lot happier with the prospect of marrying me off to him.”
Lance grunted while eyeing her over the rim of his cup. A lock of hazelnut hair matching hers fell forward over his brow. “Townsbridge has always struck me as an affable fellow.”
“You don't—”
“He's also terribly handsome.”
Muted by the blunt pronouncement spoken from the opposite side of the room, Abigail turned to stare at her sister. Petra might be two years younger than she, but she certainly liked to voice her opinion.
“I thought you were reading,” Abigail said.
Petra turned a page in her book with a shrug and without glancing away from the text. “That doesn't mean I can't hear you talking.”
“And how would you know what he looks like anyway?” Abigail asked. Her sister wasn’t out and hardly ever left the house.
“I have eyes in my head,” Petra murmured but added no further explanation.
Sighing, Abigail flopped back against her seat and gazed helplessly up at the ceiling. “Handsome or not, I simply don't like the man.” At least not any more.
“You scarcely know him,” Lance informed her with the wisdom of an older brother who possessed three more years of life experience than she was able to boast.
Rubbing her brow, she considered his comment. “You're right, of course, but what I do know is that he lacks manners. And that's an integral part of anyone's character, not something that can quickly be acquired. A person is either polite or they're not.”
“Like I said,” Lance drawled while returning his cup to its saucer,“James Townsbridge has never given me reason to question his behavior.”
“Perhaps he was simply having a bad day,” Petra offered, “and you became the unfortunate victim of his aggravation.”
Abigail twisted her mouth in thought. “I will allow it as a possibility, but only because it makes no sense for him to be so horrid when the rest of his family is nothing but likeable.”
“The same could be said about you,” Petra muttered, causing Lance to choke on a biscuit he'd just bitten into. He proceeded to cough while Abigail narrowed her eyes on her sister. Only her forehead was visible behind the book.
