Bridget’s pulse quickened, her mind racing with curiosity and trepidation. She asked, her voice laced with both fear and anticipation, “Who is it, Eloise?”
Eloise hesitated for a moment, her gaze meeting Bridget’s. “I couldn’t quite make out his voice, M’Lady,” she replied, her voice filled with uncertainty, “but he seemed desperate to see you. I also arrived at the scene late before he announced his name.”
A surge of curiosity and a flicker of hope propelled Bridget forward. Without a second thought, she hurriedly left the dining room, her steps echoing through the grand hallway, her heart racing in her chest.
As she approached the door, her eyes widened in astonishment. Almost all the servants and the butler had gathered, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity.
The relentless knocking grew louder with each passing moment, echoing through the grand entrance hall, and then, a voice pierced through the chaos.
“Lady Bridget! Bridget, I know you are in there! I beg of you, let me in!”
Shivers ran down Bridget’s spine. She recognized the voice instantly, and her heart skipped a beat.
Abel. It was him standing on the other side of the door. Despite how difficult it was to believe, she would recognize that voice anywhere. The realization left her breathless, her mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.
Could it be true? Had he truly followed her here? The pounding in her chest intensified as she grappled with the surreal nature of the moment.
Her cheeks flushed, her mind swirling with questions and doubts. What could he possibly want? Had her constantthoughts of him somehow called him to her side? The uncertainty of the situation gripped her, making her hesitate.
He continued to plead, his voice filled with urgency. “Bridget, please, I must speak to you. I beg you to open the door.”
His words tugged at her heart, but they also stirred a sense of fear within her.
Her heart raced as Eloise approached her, concern etched on her face. Eloise asked what Bridget wanted to do, whether she wanted to let him into the house. Panic gripped Bridget, her mind swirling with fear and uncertainty.
“Is this a dream, Eloise? Pinch me, please, to confirm I am awake,” she pleaded, desperate for some semblance of reality.
But Eloise shook her head. “I cannot do that, M’Lady, but this is real,” she assured, her voice filled with conviction.
Just as their conversation unfolded, Abel’s knocks grew more forceful, resonating through the grand halls. The noise startled them both, causing them to jump in unison.
Eloise turned to Bridget, her eyes filled with concern, and spoke urgently, “M’Lady, the servants are growing nervous. We must decide what to do.”
Bridget’s mind raced, torn between her emotions and the weight of the moment. She knew she couldn’t keep him waiting forever,nor could she ignore the growing unease among the household staff.
Her gaze swept across the shocked faces that surrounded her, but she summoned her courage and took a deep breath. With determination in her eyes, she approached the door, her hand trembling slightly as she raised it to knock.
The loud noise behind the door ceased as her knuckles met the wood. She spoke firmly, her voice laced with a hint of authority, “Your Grace, enough with the commotion. I am here. Speak your purpose.”
Abel’s voice, soft and pleading, reached her ears from the other side of the door. “Please, Bridget, open up. Let me explain. I beg you.”
Bridget felt her resolve waver, her heart aching at the sound of his desperation, but she shook herself, determined to stay strong.
Clearing her throat, she replied, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of vulnerability, “I will not allow you entrance. Go away, Your Grace. You are causing a disturbance, and I have no desire to see you.”
Silence hung in the air for a moment, the tension high. Her hand rested on the doorknob, her heart pounding as she waited for his response.
“Please, Bridget.” Abel’s voice quavered with emotion. “I know I have caused you pain, but I cannot bear to be without you. I need a chance to make amends, to prove that I have changed.”
As she stood there, her heart pounding in her chest, his words echoed through the air again.
“Open the door, Bridget. I was a fool, and I want to make things right. I just want to see your face,” he pleaded, his voice filled with remorse and longing.
Her emotions were roiling, but she stood her ground. With a trembling voice, she replied, “No, Your Grace. I shall not open up. It is too late for us. You must go home. I cannot trust your words anymore. The damage has been done, and it is irreversible. It is best for both of us if you leave.”
And with that, she scoffed and turned on her heel back inside.
The day went by, and to her surprise, Abel remained outside the door. Bridget’s heart raced with anticipation the entire time. The knocks seized, but he remained, standing and sitting at intervals.
