Before he could realize it, Abel found himself roped into sharing details of his famed travels, getting more and more comfortable with the family. Olivia was all smiles at this point, and he cracked a few as well.
“Your Grace, do tell us more. I’ve heard you’ve been to the most remarkable places and seen the most astonishing sights.” The Countess’s eyes were filled with genuine interest as she pressed.
Amidst the laughter and words of agreement, Abel looked around the room, feeling a burst of comedic genius. “Well, Vauxhall Gardens were quite vibrant when I visited, but I dare say, they don’t meet the eye-catchinginsanityof the garden outside.”
He chuckled as he went on, “I say, your gardens could be a circus attraction with the right word spread, shan’t we all agree?”
Following Olivia’s awkward laughter, the room fell silent. A subtle tension hung in the air, and the family exchanged uneasy glances, seemingly unsure of how to respond.
Abel’s bros furrowed in confusion as his eyes shifted to his sister. Olivia’s eyes, however, were fixed on the ground, worry oozing off her frame.
Finally, the Countess, with a forced smile, attempted to defuse the awkwardness. “Oh, Your Grace, you do have a way with words. We appreciate your jest, of course.”
“Indeed, Your Grace, perhaps you can offer us some gardening tips. Our gardens might be in need of a duke’s touch,” Elliot pitched in quickly, encouraging bouts of awkward chuckles to fill the air.
Abel chuckled awkwardly as well, sensing the discomfort in the room. It was clear they felt compelled to maintain decorum and act as if his joke was amusing, given his status.
“Ah, I’m afraid my green thumb is not as renowned as my wit, but I’m always here to lend a helping hand, should you ever desire it.”
“That would be most appreciated,” the Countess said, chuckling nervously. “It is unusual for our garden to be in such a terrible condition. It’s just… well, we’ve just had other things on our minds, and the gardeners will look into fixing it first thing in the morning.”
Abel shook his head in amusement. “With all due respect, My Lady, I do believe thatthatgarden has never felt the touch of a gardener. Why, I do believe that some lost treasure from children’s bedtime stories could be found in that tangle.”
There was another chorus of forced laughter, but nobody would meet his eyes.
He chuckled to himself and opened his mouth to speak again, wondering how far they were willing to let him go before abandoning all pretense of decorum and civility.
“Actually, I believe we’ve been faring quite well enough without your input, Your Grace.”
All eyes turned to Lady Bridget, who had remained quiet since the beginning of the conversation. “Our gardens are fine.” Her lips curled into a tight smile. “Our father had the flowers expertly handled with brand new imported tools for this occasion, as a matter of fact.”
She let out a chuckle that sounded like a warning bell. “Unless, of course, His Grace is alluding that his sister’s father-in-law’s expertise iscircusmaterial. But I choose to doubt that a man of your caliber could be that distasteful.”
Her laugh was daring this time. “Am I not correct?”
Abel’s heart thumped loudly in his chest, his body frozen in shock. His gaze shifted from Bridget to her brother, Hector, who was sitting beside her, his jaw slack in astonishment.
The entire room fell into a hushed silence, her bold comments ringing in the air. Though she delivered her words with a hint of polite jest, there was an unmistakable fierceness behind them.
As she locked glaring eyes with him, Abel couldn’t help but be drawn to the intensity of her sharp, green gaze. He noticed it was a stark contrast to her pale complexion.
At that moment, he realized this woman was not the docile, submissive figure he had anticipated. And for some inexplicable reason, he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from her.
After an awkward silence, he managed to clear his throat, attempting to articulate his thoughts. “I only meant to say, finding such flower arrangements in a noble’s house strikes me as rather… unconventional.”
But before he could finish his sentence, she swiftly interjected, her words dripping with precision, “Ah, but you see, Your Grace, it takes intellect to understand that the beauty of art lies in its ability to challenge norms and evoke emotions beyond the ordinary.”
Abel’s shock only grew at her quick-witted response and ability to articulate her thoughts with such eloquence. It was clear that she possessed a sharp intellect and a knack for verbal sparring. Never had he met a woman with both.
Finally, he found his words again, his face narrowing with realization and offense. “If I didn’t know any better, Lady Bridget, I would assume you’re calling me a man of low intellect.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t make such a bold statement unprovoked, Your Grace. You see, some of us tend to be more understanding, withsocial grace and polite conversation skills,” Bridget countered with a sardonic smile.
Abel let out a laugh in disbelief. “I have to admit, I’m surprised, Lady Bridget. It seems your gaze has finally decided to grace us with its presence and in such a… cutting manner.”
He shifted in his seat as he continued, “Pray, tell me, did you grow tired of throwing whatever may be bothering you at the poor floor, and are you simply looking for a new target?”
Bridget met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. “Oh, Your Grace, believe me, if I needed a worthy opponent to spar with, I’d rather choose the pink inner curtains by the corner.”
