“Anyway, those Rhys has invited will create a lot of acceptance,” Pippa continued. “I know he’s mentioned Lord and Lady Goffard, the Earl of Yarrowood, the Duke of Gilmore, Sir William Livingston—”
Abigail pursed her lips and pivoted to pace to the fireplace. “You tried to gloss over Gilmore, you wicked thing. But of course Rhys is inviting him.” She rolled her eyes. “Why in the world would such a good and decent man associate himself with such a…such a…cretin?”
She glanced over her shoulder to see Celeste and Pippa exchanging yet another of those loaded looks. A world of communication flowed between them, and all of it was about Abigail. Her cheeks heated and she hated herself for creating this situation. Hated the Duke of Gilmore even more for it.
Horrible man.
“Gilmore is my husband’s best friend—he has been for decades,” Pippa said, Abigail thought a little gently.
“He has become one of Owen’s, as well,” Celeste said softly. “I still don’t understand why you hate him so.”
Abigail let out a gasp of annoyance. “You don’t? I don’t understand why all of you don’t despise him. He inserted himself into the situation with Erasmus—”
“You inserted him into the situation when you wrote him that anonymous letter telling him that our horrible shared husband was trying to make Gilmore’s sister into wife number four,” Pippa interrupted.
Abigail folded her arms. That was true. She had done that, there was no pretending otherwise.
“He…he deserved to know the truth,” she said, softer this time. “He deserved a chance to save his sister if he could, and he did. I am happy that he did.” She cleared her throat past the sudden lump that had formed there. “However, he doesn’t know the letter writer was me, and I never want him to know. The fact remains that instead of just protecting his sister and then staying out of it, he made everything worse. He hired the investigator, he started stirring the pot, and everything came out because of it.”
“Everything was going to come out regardless,” Celeste said. “And I’m rather happy Gilmore hired the investigator, considering I married him.”
Abigail bent her head. “I’m making a muck of this. Of course I’m happy Owen came and helped us all and that you two fell in love. I just…Gilmore is an arrogant, frustrating…and he’s competitive…”
“You’re competitive!” both of her friends said at once, and then laughed.
“I’m competitive in a good way,” Abigail insisted.
Celeste and Pippa were smothering smiles, and that only made all this worse. Any time she talked about Gilmore, it was worse. After all, when she listed his negative qualities, whether out loud or to herself, she also couldn’t help but add that he was handsome. Very handsome. Too handsome. With those broad shoulders and that defined jaw and those dark brown eyes that seemed to pierce a person to their very soul.
Why couldn’t he have been less appealing? Then hating him would have somehow been easier.
Pippa shook her head. “I am sorry you feel this way, Abigail. I can only imagine how difficult it is to constantly have to cross paths with someone you dislike so strongly.”
Abigail nodded. Though she and Gilmore hadn’t crossed paths all that often recently. Not since the intimate gathering to celebrate Pippa and Rhys’s wedding months ago. Abigail had been sequestered in her “mourning” and Gilmore had been…
Well, she knew he’d been at his estate in Cornwall over the winter. Far, far away from her.
“Perhaps the best thing you can do is to avoid him,” Celeste suggested.
Abigail swallowed. “Yes. I think that will be for the best. Certainly he dislikes me as much as I dislike him, so it will be easy enough to do so.”
With that subject resolved, at least in their estimation, Pippa and Celeste went back to examining the rest of Pippa’s new gowns. But though Abigail still nodded and interjected, her mind now took her to the very unpleasant Duke of Gilmore.
Avoiding him was never easy. For some reason they always stumbled into each other’s paths. But it truly was for the best. After all, returning to Society was going to be hard enough. She didn’t need Gilmore’s interference. She didn’t need him besting her in the game they had been playing since the first moment she laid eyes on him.
Nathan, Duke of Gilmore, stood at the edge of the dancefloor, observing the sparsely filled ballroom of his best friend, the Earl of Leighton. His lips pressed together and he fought to keep his concern from his face in case Leighton was watching. Making his worries plain wouldn’t relieve the ones of his friend.
He tried to shake off the unpleasant thoughts as he looked around at the attendees who were there. Two lower-level squires and their wives, a few untitled gentlemen. His gaze flitted to the farthest corner of the room from him, and thoughts faded.
Abigail Montgomery stood there, off by herself in the corner. She was wearing a pale blue silk gown with three-quarter sleeves done in lace. Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple low chignon and the wisps that had been artfully placed framed an oval-shaped face with high cheekbones, soft lips and brown eyes that could be sharp as a blade.
There was nothing quite so frustrating as being attracted to a woman who wholeheartedly despised you. Not that Nathan enjoyed Abigail’s company either. She was beautiful and smart and could be incredibly kind…but she was also a bitter pill and he had no intention of swallowing it.
And yet he somehow found himself moving toward her, as often happened when they were in rooms together. Part of why he had begun angling not to be in those rooms anymore. But tonight he couldn’t have refused Leighton even if he’d wanted to. And that left him sidling up to Abigail, her harsh sigh of annoyance ringing in his ears.
“Mrs. Montgomery,” he drawled.
Her flinch was barely perceptible, but he noticed it regardless. Not that he blamed her for the reaction. Her married name was a harsh reminder of the feckless man who had given it to her. Destroyed her and a good many others in his wake.
“Gilmore,” she said through clenched teeth. “What do you want?”
He choked back a laugh at her directness. Funny how a person could grate and entertain in equal measure. “Why, just your fine company, madam.”
She arched a brow at him and shook her head slowly. “Try again.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “You are the only person I know even slightly at this gathering beyond our hosts and the Gregorys, and they seem busy at present.”
He motioned with his chin and she followed the gesture. Owen and Celeste were by the fire, heads close together. Celeste was smiling at whatever he was saying, the tiniest blush darkening her cheeks. When Nathan glanced at Abigail, her own cheeks had gone pink, as if she knew exactly the words being exchanged between the couple.
He let his glance slide to Leighton and Pippa, and she followed his eyes again. They were also close together, but unlike the Gregorys, their conversation didn’t look pleasant. Pippa’s cheeks were pale and Rhys frowned as they surveyed the room together.
“She’s worried,” Abigail said, and Nathan almost didn’t recognize her voice. Normally it was sharp with barbs for him, but now it was soft, filled with concern. “And she should be. I know they hoped for better attendance.”