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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 said.

“Ah yes, you were going to ride this morning,” he said.

“You sound envious.”

“Do I?” He smiled down at her. “Perhaps I am. I enjoy Hyde Park as much as the next man, but it hardly compares to the exhilaration that comes with a ride out in the country.”

“Mmm,” she agreed with a murmur. “That’s the true beauty of the countryside, isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, the scenery and gardens are all well and good, but it’s the freedom that I miss when I’m in London.”

She could feel his gaze on her as they reached the final landing, and she found herself blinking in surprise at the honest admission. “You are very easy to talk to, Major Mayfield. Has anyone ever told you that?”

He laughed softly. “Odd, I was just thinking the same about you.”

She smiled up at him as they paused on the ground floor, the sound of guests in the dining room reminding her solidly where they were and why. “And what about you, Major? Where are you off to in such a hurry that you had to run over a poor, helpless female?”

He gave a little snort of amusement that made her heart kick in her chest. It made her itch to make him laugh outright again, to make him smile in such a way that his eyes gleamed with amusement. “I promised Miss Ainsworth and her mother that I would escort them for a walk around the grounds.”

“Ah.” And just like that, that warm and light sensation she’d been reveling in from the moment she’d bumped into the major fled, and she was left feeling...flat. Deflated. Her smile never wavered but it suddenly felt far less genuine. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re making such progress so quickly. I should have known you’d be a quick study.” She forced a laugh. “I suppose you won’t be needing my help much longer.”

“Lady Abigail…” He stopped, his brows drawn together as if in concern.

Drat. The last thing she’d wanted was his pity.

She made her smile brighter. “Go on,” she said, making a little shooing motion toward the room where the guests gathered. “You wouldn’t want to keep Miss Ainsworth waiting.”

He opened his mouth and shut it promptly, a wan smile curving his lips. “Perhaps I shall see you later today or—”

“I’m sure we shall meet again before the weekend is over,” she said, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. All high and tight like it might shatter. She glanced upward toward the landing. “Let’s try not to run into one another again, though, hmm?”

He smiled at her pathetic attempt at a joke.

“Well, I should be off,” she said, backing away in the opposite direction of the voices. She was not running away. Of course not. Lady Abigail never ran from anyone.

She felt him watching her until she turned a corner, heading down a back hallway leading to a side entrance where she wouldn’t run into anyone. Only when she’d walked outside into the crisp spring air did she stop to take a deep breath.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she headed toward the stables. Stupid, Abigail. So very stupid. 

When had she lost track of her goal? The clock was ticking and she had mere months to find, lure, and hook a husband. And what had she done? She’d allowed herself to be distracted. She’d taken her eye off the prize and let her silly emotions roam wild. How very foolish, Abigail.

What was she doing fretting over the major and his prospects when it was her own she ought to be worried about? Of all the times to decide to be charitable and concern herself with someone else’s future. She gave her head a shake, frustration a far sight more bearable than whatever it was she’d been feeling a moment ago when she’d walked away.

Frustration could be overcome. She’d redirect her focus, that was all. She’d go back to the drawing board and reassess her options. She’d list the pros and the cons for the eligible gentlemen and then she’d choose her next mark.

It was as simple as that.

By the time she entered the stables, her head was once more clear, even if her heart was pounding a bit too fast. She was very nearly at peace...until she heard it.

“I assure you, there’s no need for an escort,” Lily was saying.

Abigail would recognize her former friend’s voice anywhere.

“My husband makes it out like I’m some sort of delicate flower, but I promise you, I’m not so weak as all that.”

Abigail nearly laughed aloud at the understatement. Lily’s back was still to her as she spoke to the poor footman who was no doubt torn between Lord Merrick ’s overprotective orders to watch his wife and his wife’s stubborn commands that she did not need their help.

“If you’re sure, Lady Merrick,” the poor man murmured.

“I am certain.” Lily’s voice was filled with triumph. She’d won and everyone knew it.

Abigail hovered near the stable entrance, torn between fleeing a potentially unpleasant encounter and laughing because her old friend hadn’t changed one bit, even now that she was a proper married lady.

Before Abigail had a chance to do either, Lily turned and spotted her. Her triumphant smiled faded into a scowl so quickly it made Abigail’s head spin.

Lily always had been emotional like that. The redhead was quick to passionate anger, even quicker to raucous laughter, and could flip between the two faster than most people could form a smile.

She waited for Lily to speak first. Years had gone by since their falling out, but as Lily was not one to let time heal all wounds, Abigail doubted she was hated any less today than she had been during

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