Lady Abigail was not looking forward to tonight's dinner. Though it would be a whole evening with her dearest friends and family, it would also be one with Lord Gilchrist. Try as she might, even with her brother’s encouraging words, she couldn’t bring herself to forgive Lord Gilchrist for his rude behavior.
The whole point of the night was to celebrate officially his return. Lady Abigail imagined that Lord Gilchrist would only take the opportunity to offend more people with his grotesque personality.
In the small group were Lady Gilchrist and Lady Louisa, the Marquess of Huntington, his family, and the little trio currently residing in the Wintercrest house.
The duke had also suggested inviting Lord and Lady Cunningham, as they were very close friends of the family. The duchess, however, shot down the idea instantly. Lady Lydia Prescott, their only daughter, had been quite a tormentor of Lady Louisa in their youth and it would not do to have any negativity in tonight's party.
The whole goal of the night for Lady Louisa and the duchess was to ease Lord Gilchrist back into society. They strived to make it a peaceful and comforting environment from the moment Gilchrist entered.
To begin with, the rooms were much darker than usual, with sparse candles lighting the way. Even the dining room was lit only enough to see the plate in front of you.
Lady Abigail expected that if they wanted the night to be peaceful and calming for the earl, then she would have been better suited to stay in her room. These weeks away from Lord Gilchrist had only spurred on her desire to give the earl a piece of her mind if he attempted to speak to her again.
When the earl entered the house with his party, Lady Abigail was shocked to see his scars anew. Every bit of his body was dressed to perfection in his long, black velvet dinner jacket and charcoal pantaloons. He chose to wear the more fashionable high boots and still carried his very elegant cane.
It was a breathtaking frame of a man until the moment he removed his velvet hat. Then the whole of his face was shown and it was just as shocking as the first time she had seen it.
Lady Abigail did her best to look in the opposite direction of where he was seated while the now completed dinner party sat in the largest of the drawing rooms.
The Earl of Gilchrist was doing his best to be on his most polite behavior for the sake of his mother and sister. The fact that the rooms were barely lit didn’t escape his notice. He assumed it was for the benefit of the other guests, who would otherwise be put off from their meals if they saw him in full light.
It was entirely irritating to him. If they didn’t want to see his face, then they should not have forced him into this ridiculous dinner.
The look on Lady Abigail’s face, when he entered the house and removed his hat, was not missed by him. It was one of pure disgust and a reminder of the monster he had become.
Though he had made it his mission to win over her friendship for the sake of his sister's happiness, he couldn’t help but become more and more irritated by Lady Abigail's actions.
First of all, it was that shocked look at the beginning. Lord Gilchrist thought that a lady with proper breeding, who was already prepared for his disfigurement, should have held herself with a little more decorum.
To make matters worse, she openly went out of her way to avoid him. At first, Gilchrist had tried to join a small group of women including Lady Abigail, Lady Fortuna, and Lady Huntington.
Lady Abigail took one look at his approach and excused herself from the group immediately before his arrival. This event occurred two more times before Colton was assured that she was going out of her way to avoid him.
It was humiliating to be treated like the plague by this lady. All his plans to show her kindness and extend the hand of friendship disappeared from his mind as he sunk in his sour mood yet again.
Finally, the dinner gong rang and they all made their way to their seats. Much to Colton’s disappointment, he was seated right next to Lady Abigail. It was apparent she was also not aware of this seating arrangement and gave a visible frown as she saw the earl take his place.
A respectable gentleman would have greeted the lady, having not spoken to her thus far, but Colton purposefully did no such thing.
“Lady Abigail, that dress is the perfect shade of pink. I remember you looking at the fabric just the other day on Bond Street. It couldn’t possibly have been made so quickly,” Lady Fortuna said from across the table.
Lady Abigail was happy for the compliment on her new dress. Very often, her mother would instruct her to buy gowns in any shade other than pink. The Duchess Dowager of Wintercrest believed it clashed too much with the ruby red of Lady Abigail's hair.
Lady Abigail wasn’t entirely sure if that was the sole reason why she made an effort to buy dresses in every shade of rose. She did also enjoy the color.
With her mother not in town this season, she happily ordered her first new dress in the latest fashion in this otherwise forbidden color to her.
She was very proud of the garment, because not only had she picked the fabric of soft pink in iridescent silk, but she also had a hand in the design. She had chosen the more fashionable square neckline and, of course, the high waisted bodice. For the inner petticoat, she decided on a rich cream and had a very thin lace trail around all the trims to match the inner skirt.
“It is,” Lady Abigail informed her cousin. “Mrs. Jenkins’ speed, however, was due to the fact that the dress was already made in the shade when we first saw the fabric. I simply had her add the lace trimming.”
“And what a smart decision it was. I think it completes the form perfectly,” Lady Fortuna continued as she delicately ate her food.
The scoff coming from the seat next to Lady Abigail didn’t escape her notice. She turned to the Earl of Gilchrist for the first time that evening.
Lady Abigail was well aware that she was sitting on his good side and no one sat on the other. She suspected this was done deliberately. One, to save him the discomfort of someone on his scarred side. Two, it provided a chance for the earl and herself to get better acquainted.
Since Lady Abigail had made her opinion of Lord Gilchrist known to the duchess, Isabella had made it her mission to change it. It was most likely her doing that Lady Abigail was stuck next to the earl.
Lord Gilchrist was irritated enough that he was stuck at the end of the table right next to Lady Abigail. He was doing his best to eat quickly and just get through the night. He couldn’t help but overhear the conversations that Lady Abigail was having with the others.
It was all utter nonsense she jabbered on about. First, the weather as of late with her aunt. Then, her cousin and Lady Abigail spent a whole ten minutes going on incessantly about her dress.
Lord Gilchrist hadn’t realized he had made his thoughts verbal until Lady Abigail’s eyes turned on him.
From this view of Lord Gilchrist, Lady Abigail only saw a handsome man with a rotten soul. Not only had he tormented her the whole night through, continually following her from one group to another. Then, in complete duplicitousness, he chose to ignore her from the moment he sat down. To add another insult on top of injury, he had just ridiculed her discussion.
“Is there an opinion on my dress you wish to share, Lord Gilchrist?” she asked with her eyes narrowed.
For a moment, she saw the memory of that handsome, charming man her sister-in-law spoke of. He certainly had a dashing figure, with his perfectly square chin, gorgeous blue eyes, and blonde hair that even shined in this little of light.
But then the earl turned his head ever so slightly to give his response back. It was not for the scars that his disposition changed, for even with his slight movement Lady Abigail could not see them. It was the look of disgust that transformed him from handsome gentleman to horrible rake.
“Nothing that would be worth my time,” Lord Gilchrist replied with a snarky smirk.
“Oh, I am truly sorry that your time has been thus wasted listening in on someone else’s conversation. Though it must be hard not to, when you refuse to have one of your own.”
It seemed the whole room went silent at their exchange.
Lord Gilchrist couldn’t believe the audacity of this little chit. First, she ignored him and blatantly avoided him from the start. Then, when he did the same to her, she had the audacity to call him out on it.
“Forgive me for not engaging you on inquiries of your slippers or hair ribbon,” Lord Gilchrist said, looking to the matching pink ribbon that wove in and out of her red hair. He had to admit it was a beautiful contrast. “Next time, I will do better to speak to them before you turn and run the other way.”
Lady Abigail’s mouth opened wide at his words.
“I only avoided you,” Lady Abigail hissed under her breath, “to prevent me from saying something I might later regret. Apparently, you don’t hold value in that principle.”
“Well, I am not of a very delicate constitution. I can handle anything you wish to say to me,” Lord Gilchrist countered.
“Are you suggesting that my constitution is so weak I would faint at any words that come out of your mouth?”
“I merely mean that you may say to me what you wish,” Lord Gilchrist responded exasperatedly. Lady Abigail seemed to find fault with every little thing he said.
He wasn’t sure he liked this conversation any more than when they were pretending that the other didn’t exist. It wasn’t going in any way how he had planned it.
Lady Abigail was such an infuriating creature. He had to admire her for not wilting away as another lady would, but he also wished she wasn't quite so determined to express her dislike for him in front of a whole wide-eyed table of his only remaining friends and family.
“I’m quite sure there is nothing of a disagreeable nature that Lady Abigail would wish to say to you,” the duchess chimed in from her far side of the table.
It was easy to see that Isabella was desperately trying to save the dinner. For Lady Abigail, and even the Earl of Gilchrist, there would be no salvaging a connection between the two of them.
It seemed both their minds were set about the other. There were no foreseeable means for them to come to an agreement from this point on.
The rest of the meal was spent returning to the fact that one didn't see the other. Lord Gilchrist ate quickly and excused himself to the comfort of smoking cigars with the duke, while the ladies took their refreshments back in the drawing room.
Both determined, in their own way, never to be in the presence of the other, if one could help it.