The room seemed to hold its breath. It was quiet enough for one to hear a pin drop.
Abel’s eyes were nearly popping out of their sockets. “Lady Bridget,couldyou be saying?—”
“Well, well, aren’t we all in such high spirits, already!”
Just as the tension became almost unbearable, the Countess gracefully intervened, standing to her feet and clapping her hands together with a loud laugh.
“Before we proceed with our… invigorating conversations, my dear guests, I believe it is time to show you to your rooms, where you can rest and refresh yourselves for dinner soon.”
There were immediate nods and murmurs of agreement, and much to Abel’s annoyance, Bridget instantly tore her gaze away from him.
“Very well, My Lady,” he replied as he managed to pull his eyes away from her. “We shall continue this conversation during dinner.”
As they all got up to leave, Abel stole one final glance at Bridget, and his face contorted into a frown.
She was staring meekly at the floor again.
CHAPTER THREE
Bridget’s grip on her fork tightened, her knuckles turning white as she glared at the chattering man across the table.
“Ah, these curtains! They’re so bold and passionate. Never have I seen ones like these before. I must say, they do a splendid job of keeping the sunlight out and the drama in.”
Abel’s eyes were fixed on her as he smiled sardonically. “One might say they are just like the fiery spirit of the young lady of the house!”
“Your Grace, if only the curtains could match your wit, we’d have a true spectacle on our hands, yes,” Hector was the one to respond this time, attempting to shield her.
Bridget flashed a small smile at her brother when he turned back to face her. The Duke merely squinted at him though and turned back to Bridget with a malicious stare.
At this point, it had become clear to everyone at the grand dinner table that the Duke was persistently doing all he could to provoke another reaction from her.
His comments about the choice of dinner, the architecture, and every and anything else were all disguised as good humor, but she saw right through his smirking facade that forced her family members to nod and pretend to laugh.
It was her fault. She hadn’t been able to hold back when he spoke about the gardens. There was a deeper meaning to the garden’s unorthodox appearance. Bridget had spent days planting each flower with her runaway older sister in their younger years.
It had been playful, and no one expected their attempt at gardening to stay that way for long, but with her sister’s absence… the memories created had lasted in the minds of each member of the Fadden household.
Including their father.
Bridget sometimes wondered if his decision to leave the garden untouched was a sign of his hidden remorse. But she always quickly dismissed the notion, unwilling to believe that he could miss Virginia after disowning her so cruelly.
Unfortunately, Abel knew none of that.
She felt her blood boil as his eyes locked onto hers and he opened his mouth to speak again.
“Won’t you just take a look at thisexquisitenapkin!”
Next, he turned his attention to the linens on the table. He picked up a napkin, examining it closely.
With a theatrical gasp, he exclaimed, “So pristine and delicate, as if afraid of getting a single stain! I must say, you have all imposed quite a challenge to eat at peace without the fear of defying the napkin’s perfection.”
Bridget’s mother’s voice was tense as she chuckled. “Indeed, Your Grace, I suppose we’ll have to eat with extra caution to avoid disappointing the napkin’s… delicate sensibilities.”
“And on that note, the decorations as well, they are quite… eccentric, aren’t they? They add a certain, unique charm to the ambiance.”
Bridget’s mother gracefully replied, “Yes, our family takes pride in embracing individuality and expressing it through our choice of decor. I agree, it adds a touch of whimsy to our home.”
But the Duke wasn’t done. He tasted the flavorful food again, pretending to fan his mouth dramatically. He turned to Bridget, feigning distress.
