Chapter Eight − An Afternoon at Hyde Park

With a block of ice firmly settled in his stomach, Griffin arrived at the Duke of Ashold’s imposing townhouse, questioning his sanity at going along with his sister’s demands. Was he being a fool? Most likely. Still, he could not refuse her.

He was honour-bound.

Bloody hell.

As he stepped into the entrance hall, a shrill voice drifted down the winding staircase from the upper floor, and Griffin cringed, feeling the desperate need to turn around and flee the premises.

However, he did not. He could not go back on his word.

Bloody hell.

Footsteps approached, and he reluctantly lifted his head to spot Miss Abbott descending the stairs in large strides before the butler could even show him to the drawing room. Dressed in a pale aqua green gown, the sleeves and hem set off in a brilliant red, she rushed toward him as though the devil was behind her. “Oh, Lord Amberly, how good of you to come,” she exclaimed in that high-pitched voice that seemed to drill small holes into his brain with every word she spoke. “It was so lovely of you to invite me out on such a brilliant day. You don’t mind if my aunt comes along, do you?”

Taken aback by the speed with which the words flew out of her mouth, Griffin had no time to answer before she prattled on, not waiting for a reply. Glancing up the stairs, he took note of the dowager marchioness, dressed in mute colours. Unlike her niece, she moved with grace and elegance, two attributes entirely lost on the young woman pulling on an orange coat and donning a dark blue bonnet. Was this woman colour blind?

Still stunned, Griffin could hardly get a word out before Miss Abbott rushed out the front door, her face lifted to the sky and her eyes closed momentarily as she smiled at the sun. “It truly is a beautiful day for a walk, do you not agree?”

A walk? Glancing at his chaise parked at the kerb, Griffin walked down the front stoop as though in a trance. No, he had not intended to walk through Hyde Park. Still, as the dowager marchioness was to accompany them, there was no other choice.

As though he was not there, Miss Abbott continued down the street, pulling her aunt along. Following them like a dog, Griffin cursed his sister. After all, she could not possible have been serious? In fact, by now, Griffin was entirely convinced that Miss Abbott was widely referred to as the most awful woman in England with very good reason.

She was in a word -- awful.

As they proceeded toward Hyde Park, Griffin noticed how the dowager began to drift sideways, increasing the space between her and her niece. In addition, her steps grew smaller so if her niece did not wish to outrun her, she would have to pace herself. Step by step, she maneuvered Griffin to Miss Abbott’s side and before he knew it, the young woman had her arm through the crook of his with her aunt trailing along behind them.

Although Griffin had no desire to get any closer to the young woman than necessary, he had to admit that he was truly impressed with the dowager’s subtlety. After all, judging from the endless stream of words out of Miss Abbott’s mouth, she did not even seem to have noticed.

“Oh, what a beautiful day!” she exclaimed for the tenth time that day, her right arm gesturing wildly at the scenery around them. “I cannot wait for spring. I simply adore flowers. All those colours, bright and brilliant. Oh, they so lift my spirits! I truly miss them in winter. I mean, I try my best to dress colourfully, but there is only so much one can do. I must say I’m truly disappointed that not more young women dare to display such vibrant colours. It’s such a shame.”

Griffin swallowed, praying for the opposite. He could only hope that her tendency to mismatch colours would not turn into a trend. He doubted it very much, but one could never be certain.

“I love sunflowers. They’re so cheerful,” she continued as they proceeded down the path toward the Serpentine. “What about you, my lord? What is your favourite flower?”

At a loss, Griffin swallowed. Did he have a favourite flower? Not that he could recall.

Luckily, Miss Abbott was not in need of a reply to keep their conversation going. “But roses smell so wonderful and violets…” For the next minutes, she prattled on about every flower she had ever seen: their colours, their scents, the softness of their petals…

Griffin groaned inwardly, certain he had found his way down into hell. If this was not torture, he did not know what was!

Blowing out a breath, Miss Abbott shook herself, her nose scrunched up. “It’s quite chilly after all,” she said as they came to stand beside the glistening waters of the Serpentine. “Perhaps it was a bit premature of you to suggest a stroll through the park after all, my lord.”

Griffin frowned. Had he truly suggested a stroll? He could not recall that he had. Still, he did not argue, but grasped the opportunity she was offering him with both hands. “Then allow me to see you back home,” he said, turning on his heel and back up the way they had come.

Unfortunately, Miss Abbott took that moment to stomp on his foot with such vehemence that he could not believe it had been an accident. Suppressing a groan, Griffin gritted his teeth lest the less than flattering words he had been wanting to say to Miss Abbott all afternoon flew out of his mouth.

“You truly ought to look where you step, my lord,” Miss Abbott chided him. “You almost tripped me. My beautiful dress could have been ruined.”

Pressing his lips even tighter together, Griffin had never been so close to losing his temper. One by one, he forced a deep breath into his lungs, doing his best to close his ears to the young woman’s incessant chattering. Instead, he turned halfway back to the lake and let his eyes travel over two young children playing on its banks. The boy tossed pebbles into the water while the girl was picking daisies growing near the bank, handing a small bouquet to her governess.

“Aunt Mara, are you all right?”

Blinking, Griffin turned back to Miss Abbott as he felt her hand slip from his arm.

With a slight crease in her forehead, she started toward her aunt, who stood in the middle of the path, her pale eyes fixed on the children playing near the water. “Aunt Mara?” Miss Abbott called, her voice suddenly softer, gentler as she tried to get her aunt’s attention.

The dowager inhaled a sudden sharp breath, blinked a couple of times and then turned to look at her niece. “I’m sorry, my dear. I simply…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze travelled back to the children still playing by the water.

Miss Abbott turned her head, her gaze following her aunt’s. Then a soft smile came to her lips as she looked back at the older woman. “It’s them, isn’t it?”

Swallowing, the dowager nodded, her eyes filling with tears which she quickly tried to blink away.

Stunned, Griffin watched as Miss Abbott gently took her aunt’s hand and tried to draw her forward. “Let’s meet them.”

The dowager’s eyes widened, and she dug her heels into the ground. “Oh, no, I cannot. She wouldn’t like−”

“You’re their grandmother,” Miss Abbott stated sharply, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “You have a right to see them.” And with that, she marched toward the two children, pulling the dowager after her.

Realising that she had all but forgotten about him, Griffin watched with great interest as the two women approached the lake. As soon as the children’s eyes fell on the dowager, they raced toward her, hugging her tightly, bringing fresh tears to their grandmother’s eyes.

With a look of concern, the governess stepped forward, determined to interfere. However, she was no match for Miss Abbott. With a stern look in her eyes, she glared the woman into submission, words flying out of her mouth without a moment’s pause.

Griffin could not help but smile as he stared at her almost transfixed.

Gone was the shrill, loud woman with nothing to say but nonsense. Gone was the self-involved expression in her eyes as well as the odd grimace that could hardly be called a smile. Gone was the clumsy woman who had stomped on his toes more than once.

In her stead, Griffin saw a young lady, her eyes aglow as she now gazed at the scene before her, the soft smile on her face speaking of honest delight at seeing her aunt so happy. She moved slowly, gracefully as she retreated, giving them a moment alone. Her cheeks shone in a rosy red, and her teeth toyed with her lower lip as she forgot the world around her, her only focus the woman she clearly adored.

Drawing in a slow breath, Griffin took a careful step forward, coming to stand next to her. With watchful eyes on her, he said, “They seem very happy to see each other.”

Miss Abbott sighed, her gaze still transfixed. “They do, don’t they?” she whispered as though to herself, as though unaware who she was speaking to. “Oh, look how happy she is. She’s missed them. I could tell. But she never speaks about them. She’s so afraid to−” Turning to look at him, Miss Abbott froze, and he could see in the way her eyes widened that she had just realised what she had done.

The moment she had seen the shock on her aunt’s face, Miss Abbott’s act had slipped from her grasp.

And an act it was, to be sure.

There could be no doubt about it at this point. The only question was: why?

Grinning at her, Griffin watched with delight as her cheeks turned an even darker shade of red. “You seem quite changed, Miss Abbott.”

For a moment her lips pressed together, and she closed her eyes. Then he saw the corners of her mouth twitch before her lips spread into a smile and her grey eyes found his once more. “I suppose you’re right, my lord,” she said, a teasing tone in her voice that Griffin found quite intriguing. “Is there any chance we could forget this ever happened?” she asked bluntly, a graceful sweep of her arm encompassing the scene at the lake.

Laughing, Griffin shook his head. “None at all.”

Miss Abbott drew in a deep breath, a hint of disappointment in her calculating eyes. Still, Griffin could not help but think that she was pleased with the opportunity to be herself. Her true self.

Knowing she would never tell him if he were to ask why she felt the need to put on this act, Griffin chose a different approach. “Are you aware that people refer to you as the most awful woman in all of England?”

He felt blunt to ask such a question. However, his instinct told him she would not be offended.

The smile that came to her face told him that he was right. “I am,” she confirmed, a touch of pride in her voice as though it had been a great accomplishment on her part to be rewarded such a title. “Why do you ask?”

Griffin shrugged. “I was simply curious.”

“And would you agree?” she asked rather unexpectedly, a new-found vulnerability in her eyes as though his opinion mattered to her.

Holding her gaze, Griffin drew in a slow breath. “I did agree,” he admitted, “up until five minutes ago.” A soft smile came to her lips, and she glanced at the ground for a split second as though bashful. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

Delighted with the deep smile that came to her face, Griffin shook his head. How could he not have seen this? Did his sister know? Was that why she had insisted he give Miss Abbott a chance? For clearly there was more to this woman than met the eye.

A lot more.

And suddenly, he was determined to learn who she truly was.