The following day, Lady Abigail accompanied her sister-in-law to visit the Gilchrist family.
It was a very small gathering, as Lady Abigail had expected. Lady Louisa’s oldest brother, who she had heard much of but never met, was still away with the Royal Army. Her father had passed away just over a year ago, very unfortunately.
Lady Abigail thought fondly of the late Earl of Gilchrist as they walked up the steps to the white London house. Though she had only met him on a few occasions, she had found him to be a very kind and loving gentleman.
Lady Gilchrist opened the door, still completely covered in a black dress though it had been over a year since her husband’s passing. It was a stark contrast to her pale skin and blonde hair of almost the same pale sheen.
“My dear Isabella,” she said, taking her daughter’s closest friend in a motherly embrace.
Lady Gilchrist paused to rub a hand over Isabella’s small belly. It was, after all, the closest Lady Gilchrist had to a grandchild.
Soon they were joined by Lady Louisa in the drawing room. Unlike her mother, who chose to still dress in mourning, Lady Louisa had decided on a slightly lighter navy colored dress.
Very often, young maidens would choose muted and pastel colors, as Lady Abigail and Lady Fortuna had worn the day before. Lady Louisa, however, was now reaching past the age of a possible match.
She had confided herself to the thoughts of spinsterhood in the care of her mother. With that decision, she happily turned from creams and florals to much darker colors of dress. She had felt it an acceptable turn for not only her age, but for the loss of her father as well.
“I was so glad to hear your whole party was able to return to London safely,” Lady Gilchrist said as tea and a small sandwich tray was placed before them, having just arrived in time for luncheon.
“I was so concerned for your condition. Jostling about in a carriage cannot be good for your constitution,” the lady continued.
“I can assure you that the duke saw to my every comfort as we traveled. I rather felt like a princess escorted across her country in his company,” Isabella assure.
“How is His Grace?” Lady Louisa asked.
“A right pain in the side, if you ask me,” Lady Abigail said before another answer could be given.
The Duke of Wintercrest had not ceased in teasing his little sister over the course of the last day on the matter of her sewing skills. She, however, had some jabbing words of her own with the knowledge from Lord Heshing that her brother used to be one of those rake gentlemen who raced on the king’s road.
“He is doing very well,” the duchess corrected. “However, there is a bit of sibling squabble going on at the moment.”
Lady Louisa had a far-off look, as if she too remembered a time when she enjoyed the companionship of a sibling held dear to her.
“How is Colton?” the duchess asked her dear friend, sensing her turn of mind.
Isabella knew that the Frasier family had not had just the hardship of losing a father but had also been struggling with the condition of the newly instated Earl of Gilchrist.
Several months ago, Colton Frasier, Earl of Gilchrist, was severely injured while serving the crown in endeavors against France. The duchess was not entirely sure of the details, but she was aware that, since that time, he had been recovering in a hospital.
She often wondered if it was the news of his son’s severe injury that caused the Earl of Gilchrist to lose his health, because he passed not long after receiving news on his son.
“In his last letter, he seemed very hopeful to be returning home shortly. He explained to me that he has been healing well from his injuries and is again feeling the strength to travel.”
Both Lady Gilchrist and Lady Louisa's faces fell with a sorrowful countenance at the reminder of recent life events.
“How exciting it must be for you, to have your dear brother returned to you,” Lady Abigail said, doing her best to brighten the mood.
“Will he be returning here to town for the season?” she added, to encourage pleasant conversation.
“I do hope so,” Lady Gilchrist said.
“Well, after hearing all the wonderful tales about the earl, I am more than excited to meet him myself,” Lady Abigail continued. “We must throw a party in his honor when he returns.
“I think that would be a wonderful idea,” the duchess agreed. “That is, of course, if you think he will be up to it?”
“It’s hard to say,” Lady Louisa said with a furrow of her brow. “He has not very clearly explained all that has occurred. Instead, he constantly repeated that his injuries are small and of no consequence.”
“But then, he has been in hospital for so long,” the duchess continued for her friend. “Surely that must mean his injuries were very serious to need so much time before he could leave.”
“I will just be happy when he is finally home,” Lady Gilchrist said with a dark shadow over her face.
“Of course,” the duchess said, taking Lady Gilchrist’s hand in hers for comfort.
“Let us talk of other things. Words of my son’s condition makes me so uneasy,” Lady Gilchrist finally said.
Lady Abigail took the opportunity to propose the primary purpose of their visit that day. It was no surprise that Lady Louisa was more than happy to join their little seamstress cause. It was decided that, twice a week, all the ladies would meet together to socialize and work on their notions.
At first, the duchess encouraged the ladies to meet at her exceptional London home for these gatherings, but in the end, it was decided to be more entertaining if each meeting was to be held at a different lady’s house on a rotation.
Lady Abigail later reflected on the mysterious Lord Colton Frasier, Earl of Gilchrist, as she dressed for dinner. Not only had the Duchess of Wintercrest talked incessantly of him but also her brother, who met him the last season before his military departure, had spoken very highly of his character.
She suspected, from all the stories and descriptions, he was much like her own brother. Lord Gilchrist was always spoken of as a Cheshire cat type character with a charming smile, wit, and excellent humor.
She couldn’t help but want to meet the man that had been so connected to her society for the last several years, and yet was always away.
It was at dinner that Lady Abigail found that her chance of meeting the gentleman had come.
“I have just received a note from Lady Louisa,” the duchess said excitedly to her husband and sister-in-law at the dining table. “You will never guess who arrived on their doorstep, without so much as a message in advance, right after we left?”
Isabella paused to take a breath, “It was Colton!”
“How wonderful! I’m glad to hear the fellow will be in town. It might be nice to have someone to converse with during all these tedious events,” the duke answered.
Though the family had just arrived in town two short days ago, Lady Abigail was finding her social calendar to be quickly filling up. Apparently, with the Duke and Duchess of Wintercrest both in attendance this season, just about everyone was hoping for them to grace their social event.
“We must start at once to plan a dinner party to celebrate his return,” the duchess continued. “I thought something small with just our families would be appropriate.”
Lady Abigail had to smile at her words. Though the Frasiers were not Isabella’s biological family, they were still very much family to her. It only increased the already high opinion Lady Abigail had of them all.
The following day, Lady Abigail and the Duke and Duchess of Wintercrest returned to Lady Louisa’s house by invitation for an afternoon of socialization before they were to attend a ball held at the house of the Duke of Northingshire.
It was the first significant event of the season for Lady Abigail and she was happy to know that she would be accompanied not only by her sister-in-law, but also Lady Louisa’s family.
With every meeting she had with the Frasier household, she felt more and more endeared to them.
She also couldn’t help but hold a little anticipation in her stomach for finally meeting the earl she had been told so much about.
“Where is the earl?" Christian asked as he sat down in the drawing room, with only the ladies of the house to greet them.
“I am sure he will be down presently,” Lady Louisa said with an unease about her.
The duchess picked up on this instantly. They were such great friends, it was hard for one to feel something that the other didn’t immediately notice, even in written form.
“Is everything alright with Colton?" the duchess asked with her own worry in her throat.
“Yes, of course,” Lady Louisa attempted to ease the mood. “He is whole and home again and that is all that matters.”
Lady Abigail had the strangest feeling that Lady Louisa was more convincing herself than informing them. Her thoughts were confirmed when Lady Gilchrist suddenly removed herself from the party, overcome with emotion.
Lady Abigail couldn’t help but wonder what had both ladies in such distress. Lady Louisa said he came home whole, but perhaps that was not entirely the case. She had heard that so often while in the heat of battle, men would be injured by musket or cannon.
Though they would survive the attack, they would often lose an arm or leg in the process. Lady Abigail wondered if this was the case for the earl.
The sound of a thumping cane resounded down the hall outside the drawing room and all heads turned to see the Earl of Gilchrist enter.
Every lady in the room seemed to lean back in shock at the look of him. Even Lady Louisa, who unquestionably already knew his visage, was still taken aback at seeing it renewed.
Only the Duke of Wintercrest had his wits about him. He stood and walked forward to shake Lord Gilchrist’s hand.
“It’s good to see you again, after such a long time,” the duke said as he shook hands heartily.
Lady Abigail could not take her eyes off the man. He was of a muscular build, most likely due to his years in battle, and was smartly dressed in a well-fitted tux. Even the cane he leaned heavily on with his left hand was of exquisite dark wood with a silver embellished top.
His dark blonde hair was worn in a long, straight tie back. It was easy to see that his crystal blue eyes were his crowning trait. They seemed as if they could radiate their own energy if allowed. At the moment, however, he entered with them entirely concentrated on the ground before him.
It was his face that Lady Abigail couldn’t seem to pull her gaze from. The entire left side of his face was covered in deep red scars beginning from just under his eye all the way down to the top of his collar. The wounds, no doubt, traveled even farther below.
What had once been a strong chin was now a mess of healed gashes and lines. With his hair tied back, it was apparent that most of his left ear was also missing. It left nothing but a hole with small fragments sticking out.
It was so grotesque that the duchess had to look away in sorrow. She loved the earl like a brother and couldn’t imagine the pain such markings had caused him.
Lady Abigail, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to peel her eyes away from him. He was a fascinating sight. She couldn’t help but itch to ask him what had caused such marks.
“Have you been recovering well?” the duke continued.
Lord Gilchrist met the duke’s words with a little surprise. Up until this moment, people had rarely spoken to him, and even when they did, it was not while looking him straight in the face.
Even the nurses who attended him this past year often looked away from the raw flesh across almost half of his body. His own mother had burst into tears at his homecoming and hadn’t been in the same room as him since.
Louisa, bless her heart, had done her best to see the man he was before and not the monster that stood before her since his return. Despite all of her efforts, however, he could still see the pain in her eyes every time she looked at him. More often than not, she seemed to busy herself so as not to need to look at his direction.
“It has been a prolonged recovery,” Lord Gilchrist said simply.
“Well, come and have a seat and join us,” the duke motioned toward the ladies. “We are just having some refreshments before leaving for tonight's events. I assume, by your dress, you will be joining us. It will certainly be an honor to have a war hero among us.”
Gilchrist came to sit by his sister on the sofa, figuring it to be the safest place. He was now keenly aware of the effect he had on women.
Where before, his mere presence could bring rosiness to a lady’s cheeks, he now made them pale in fear. He did his best to turn his frame so that the worst of his scars faced the fireplace and not the party present.
It burned his still tender skin to have the heat of the fire on it, but the pain was of little consequence to him anymore.
“Do you hurt much?” Isabella looked at him with pity.
Though Gilchrist knew her heart was in the right place, he could no longer stand the pitying looks and fear.
“There were many others who got it far worse. I am happy enough I survived.”
His words came out much more curtly then he had hoped. Gilchrist shifted uneasily in his seat. He was already regretting being convinced by his sister to attend the ball.