The Duke's Wife (The Three Mrs #3) - Jess Michaels Page 0,22
distracted,” he said, letting his gaze flit back to Abigail. “Is that Mr. Bentham, himself, speaking to Abigail?”
“It is, indeed,” Harriet said. “And he looks charmed, as do all in her group. Though how could one not be? I’m so glad Mrs. Montgomery’s mourning period is at last at a close so we could invite her. She will be a delightful addition to the salon, I can already see.”
“Yes, delightful,” Nathan mused.
Harriet and Lena excused themselves then, and Nathan managed to pull his gaze away from Abigail to say his farewells so they could go speak to more of their guests. He watched Abigail a little longer, and when Mr. Bentham had shaken her hand and drifted away, along with a few of the others at her side, Nathan moved toward her.
She noticed his approach within a few steps. He knew it by the way she stiffened, even though she didn’t look his way. She said something to her remaining companions and left them, moving in his direction and abandoning mooning men in her wake.
Her gaze lifted to his, at last, as they met in the middle of the room. It was not her usual disdain there to greet him. No, tonight she seemed…nervous. Her cheeks were pink, her hands gripped at her sides, her throat working as she swallowed.
“Abigail,” he said softly.
She pinched her lips. “I thought we said we were only doing that in private.”
He looked around. “No one is listening. But I can call you Mrs. Montgomery if it would please you.”
“I don’t know what would please me,” he thought he heard her mutter beneath her breath, but she gazed off into the room and didn’t address the question to him directly. “I didn’t know you were a member.”
“You don’t think me an intellectual?” he teased, and her gaze came back to him sharply. He arched a brow. “Go ahead, you may sling your barbs. I am strong enough to take them.”
She pursed her lips, but it seemed like she was genuinely struggling with a response. “I may not always…appreciate you, Your Grace, but I do not think you a stupid man. You very likely belong in a room like this, as much as anyone else.”
He drew back a fraction. “Was that a compliment? Toward me? From you? That might be the first sign of the apocalypse.”
She was trying to maintain a hard countenance, but he saw the corners of her lips twitching. He took it as a good sign, at least, and leaned a little closer. “And what would you wager on tonight, madam? If you would allow me to try to win again.”
She worried her lip and the hint of a smile fell away. “I…I think we entered dangerous territory with our wagers, Your Grace. It might not be the best idea to continue them.”
It wasn’t a cruelly said statement, but for some reason it stung Nathan in a far deeper place than he would have imagined it could. He smoothed his hands along his jacket front and shrugged one shoulder with more nonchalance than he felt.
“As you like, Mrs. Montgomery. I can see why you would not want to break your winning streak.” They were quiet a moment. Not a comfortable silence, but not an adversarial one, either. He glanced at her. “I have noted you did not yet respond to my invitation to the ball in a few days.”
Once more her gaze darted to him, and she suddenly looked a little trapped. She shifted, almost as if she were planning her escape. He realized in that moment he actually wanted her at the ball. He’d acted like it was because Rhys suggested it a few days before, but that wasn’t true. He wanted her there only for himself.
“Nathan,” she began softly.
He pivoted to face her fully and caught her hand. Even through two layers of gloves, the act moved him. “Please,” he said softly. “For Pippa and Rhys, if not for me.”
Her gaze narrowed slightly, but her words contained no heat when she said, “That isn’t fair.”
He nodded. “No. It was badly played by me, for certain. But I think you and I both know that a lot of things aren’t fair in this world.”
She bent her head. “Yes.”
She had hardly answered when there was a tinkle of a bell. The crowd began to take their seats, settling in for the presentation. Abigail looked up at him, holding his gaze firm for a beat.