or…” He swallowed. “Alone.”
She pursed her lips. If the discussion weren’t so painful, he might have laughed, for he could see how much she twisted herself both wishing for what he suggested and wanting to find a reason to cut him to shreds for doing so.
At last, she cleared her throat. “That would be agreeable.”
“Then it seems only fair that you should call me by my given name, as well.”
Her eyes went wide. “That would be utterly inappropriate.”
“As is what you just requested of me,” he said with a laugh. “But these are unusual circumstances, are they not?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “No. I call you Gilmore. Is that not familiar enough to satisfy you?”
He leaned in a little closer. “Do you not know my Christian name?”
She blinked, and the look of abject terror that crossed her face in a flash was enough to tell him what he needed to know. Still, she was bound to be contrary with him and she folded her arms. “Of course I do.”
He smothered a laugh. “Then what is it?”
Her foot tapped restlessly beneath the hem of her skirt. “We all know what it is—why should I have to say it? The request is very different when it is made by you, Gilmore. The title of duke demands some respect and—”
Now he did laugh. “Please don’t try to convince me that you hold any respect for me, my dear lady. We are not in mixed company—you do not have to pretend for the sake of propriety. You do not call me by my name because you do not know my name. Admit it and I will share it with you. Unless…you want to hazard a guess?”
Her gaze narrowed further. “Cain? Beelzebub? Lucifer?”
“So close. Nathan.”
She was quiet for a beat. “Nathan,” she said at last. “Well, that almost seems like a nice, human name. Is it a family one?”
“In fact, it is. My mother’s favorite brother was named Nathan,” he explained. “He died when she was very young.”
She swallowed, and for a moment he saw the flash of pain across her face. He knew its source. The previous year he had done a deep dive into this woman’s history when he had not been certain of her role in Montgomery’s schemes and come up with a great deal about her. He did not address it now—he could not imagine she would wish him to.
“I suppose that if you are kind enough to call me Abigail in private that I cannot refuse you when you ask me to call you Nathan under the same circumstances.”
“An acquiescence that deeply pains you, I know,” he teased. “And I thank you for it. Would you like a drink?”
“Yes,” she said, and he thought it was through clenched teeth.
“You are a fan of sherry, I think?”
“Y-Yes,” she said, eyes going wide. “How did you know that?”
“We did spend quite a bit of time together last year,” he said as he poured the drink and handed it over to her. “I made a study.”
“Hmmm,” she said as she sipped the amber liquid. “I don’t know if that makes me nervous or not, based on the fact that you despise me so completely.”
Nathan opened his mouth to reply when Gardner stepped into the room. “Supper is served.”
“Thank you, Gardner,” Nathan said, and motioned to the door. “Shall we?”
She followed him and they walked along the short corridor toward the dining room. He noted how she looked around, taking in the art on his walls, the portraits of Gilmores past. At last they reached their destination. They settled into their chairs. He at the head of the table, she off to his right so that they could continue to talk rather than shout down the long table.
Not that they spoke a great deal at the start. Soup was brought, and for a few moments they ate in what had to be called an awkward silence.
At last he said, “I don’t despise you, you know. You have always despised me.”
She arched a brow. “The first time you met me, you all but accused me of being party to Erasmus Montgomery’s schemes.”
He hesitated, shame flooding him. “I was…overwrought that night. I had determined that your…husband…was pursuing my sister, despite having three wives already. I was furious and ready to fight.”
“And he turned out to be dead,” Abigail said softly. “Or he made it look like he was dead, at any rate. That must have put you out. And so you turned on me.”
“I did truly