A Hero for Lady Abigail (A Wallflower's Wish #5) - Maggie Dallen Page 0,23

she so happy he’d spent time with another woman? Somehow, that thought rankled him more than any other.

He thought back to her disparaging comments about the other woman. He’d chastised her then for denigrating Charlotte but...he grimaced now. What if Abigail had just been warning him all along? What if she hadn’t been rude but just forthright in her knowledge?

He always considered his vision so clear, but he was beginning to wonder if he’d made several snap judgments that had been pulling him in the wrong direction. “Thank you.” He took one step closer. “What will you do with yourself tomorrow? Join the party playing croquet?”

Abigail gave him a sad smile. “We both know I won’t be much of a participant in this party. But the grounds here are excellent. I think I might take a long ride. Enjoy the air before we’re all back in London.”

He had a fleeting thought that he should like to see that. That she’d be glorious on horseback. He could almost picture riding next to her, wind blowing through his hair. It would be fun, and wild, and he’d feel… well, he’d feel free.

But he’d made plans already. And he needed to see his interest in Charlotte through before he could turn his attention to another woman. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll take myself off to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Sleep well,” Abigail called.

In all likelihood, he would not. Because while his head told him to make absolutely certain he was no longer interested in Charlotte and make sure these last months of pursuit were indeed in vain, he was a bit afraid his heart was already turning in another direction.

He looked back at Abigail, framed by candlelight, and nearly turned back around. He’d like to ask her for that ride or just talk with her or maybe even hold her in his arms. What would it feel like to kiss her?

But he kept moving toward his room. Now was not the moment to begin courting Abigail Purewater.

His heart might have been urging him in that direction, but he had to make sure he hadn’t lost his mind first.

8

Lady Abigail did not run. Not from anyone nor anything.

But, she would be the first to admit that she was walking faster than usual the next morning with her mother’s latest round of haranguing ringing in her ears. It was that echoing cacophony of scolding and threats that had her so distracted that she turned a corner to reach the staircase landing and ran smack into a solid mass.

“Oof!” the man grunted.

She herself let out an unladylike squeak at the impact of her soft curves ramming into a hard pillar of stone. She bounced back but hands steadied her before she could fall. No, not stone. A man. A tall, solid, muscular man whose familiar scent wrapped around her and made her head spin.

“Are you all right?” Major Mayfield was frowning down at her with such concern, she quite forgot how to speak. “Lady Abigail?” His gaze roamed over her from head to toe as his hands gripped her upper arms. He was holding her close—far too close to be proper, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. “Are you hurt?”

She gave her head a little shake and that movement seemed to loosen her tongue. “Just my pride,” she said.

His concern faded into relieved amusement.

“I’m not normally so clumsy,” she added with a breathless laugh as she forced herself to take a step back.

“Nor I,” he said. His eyes gleamed with laughter and the sight made her belly flutter like she was a naive young girl. He tipped his head down slightly as if relaying a secret. “Let’s declare the incident poor timing then, shall we, and keep it between us?”

She smiled at the way he made it sound as though they were in on a secret together. “I shan’t tell anyone about this moment of clumsiness if you don’t.”

He gave a short nod, feigning a seriousness that made her want to laugh aloud. “I’ll take it to my grave.”

He broke the seriousness with a wide grin as he offered her his arm and nodded toward the staircase. “Shall we?”

She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to escort her. Not a bad idea, really. That little run-in had left her more off balance than it ought, and she didn’t entirely trust herself on the stairs.

“Where were you off to in such a hurry?” he asked.

“The stables,” she