Lady Abigail, on the other hand, consisted of shapely curves and the sort of kissable lips most men would dream of in a woman. A pity all of this was ruined by her ill-tempered disposition. And yet, there was nothing for it but to make the best of the situation since, as Charles had already pointed out, he was stuck with this woman for better or worse.
With that in mind, James decided to make an attempt at small talk by commenting on the weather. “We’re lucky it isn’t raining,” were the first brilliant words to leave his mouth.
As expected, Her Haughtiness responded with a thin smile and a nod.
Well, James decided, he wasn’t going to walk in utter silence, so if she wouldn’t speak, he would, whether she liked it or not. “If it were raining, you see, we’d be much worse off than we already are,” he went on without knowing where these words strung together would lead. “Although, getting drenched might be a welcome distraction, don’t you think?”
He hadn’t expected an answer, so he was surprised when she turned her head sideways, as if addressing the street, and muttered, “It would if we were to catch our deaths.”
Surely he’d misheard her. “I beg your pardon?”
“What?”
He frowned at her and caught a flicker of something curious in her eyes before she averted her gaze once more. He also saw her blush – a deep crimson hue creeping into her cheeks.
“Well,” he said, “I suppose some of the guests would be disappointed if that were to happen. Especially those from your side of the family. But at least the vicar won't mind.”
At some point while he'd been talking, she'd focused her eyes more fully upon him, forcing him to acknowledge that they were the most perfect shade of blue he'd ever encountered. They weren't the washed-out hue he'd seen so often before, but a far more solid color that reminded him of forget-me-nots.
“The vicar?” she asked, as if unsure whether or not pursuing this issue further was wise.
“Well, he'll still have a service to perform either way, so—”
A snort, the most indelicate one he'd ever heard, travelled up Lady Abigail's throat in a croaking and grunting sort of way. The color in her cheeks deepened and her face contorted into something that looked almost painful.
And in that moment, James realized Lady Abigail had an intriguing sense of humor. He also learned that she wasn't accustomed to laughing. At least not in public. In fact, upon further reflection,it occurred to him that she looked incredibly uncomfortable. And then the oddest thing happened. She simply trained her features, like a school mistress putting her students in line, until every trace of amusement had vanished.
But James wasn't going to accept her aloof demeanor anymore. Not when she'd just revealed there was more to her than met the eye.
So he drew her slightly closer and leaned in to whisper next to her ear. “Whatever your reason for acting as though you detest everything, I mean to discover it.” She inhaled sharply, which gave him the satisfaction of knowing she was indeed hiding something. “Of course, you could simply tell me about it right now.”
They entered the park and were instantly met by curious gazes from those who knew them. James smiled and nodded by way of greeting in order to try and convey the outward appearance of a man enamored, instead of one heading for the gallows.
“No,” she said, so softly he scarcely heard her above the sound of a carriage’s wheels crunching the gravel as it rolled past.
That was all. Just one word and not a very helpful one at that.
James frowned. He’d been doing a lot of that since making her acquaintance last night. Glancing at her, he noted her free hand was now pressed to her belly and that she was taking deep breaths. “Are you unwell?” he asked. If so, it would explain a great deal.
She looked at him in surprise and then quickly nodded. “Yes. I believe so.” The delicate lines in her neck moved as she swallowed. “Must be something I ate.”
He felt his frown deepen. “Then I must apologize to you, my lady, for I was not aware. You should have said something when I suggested the walk.”
“I tried.”
“By insisting you call on my sisters!” What the devil was wrong with this woman?
“It seemed like the right thing to do,” she muttered.
James blinked. While logic compelled him to shake her for such a misguided idea, something inside James softened in response to her wanting to make things better. Deciding that chastising her wouldn’t help at this point, he drew her to a halt and turned to face her, then gently asked, “Did you by any chance happen to eat the same thing today as yesterday?”
Her eyes widened for a second before clouding over with hesitation. “Perhaps. I don’t know. It’s possible, I suppose.” The words were spoken in a rush, as if she were somehow afraid to acknowledge them.
Clearly, she found the subject embarrassing, but it was a necessary one, James decided. So he ignored Lady Petra, who’d now caught up with them, and told Lady Abigail plainly, “I think you ought to consider the possibility that there is a food that does not agree with you.”
“I...um...”
“Is something the matter?” Lady Petra asked, looking from James to Lady Abigail and back at him again with interest.
