Miss Abigail's Beastly Beau by Maggie Dallen (amazing books to read TXT) 📕

He’d done it for Marcus. For Minerva. She should not have been hurt to hear him admit that he only gave her the time of day because he deemed it to be part of his obligations.

She looked out the window.

“I did not mean to hurt you.”

That voice. So low, so gruff. So honest when he chose to speak.

She shut her eyes as she struggled to remember what they’d been talking about. All he’d told her. Her sigh this time was quiet. Almost silent. She kept her gaze on the trees they passed. “I truly am being silly.” She turned to face him. “It is just that I’ve recently discovered I am standing at a crossroads, as it were.”

His silence urged her on. For all his talk of duty, she would admit—he was awfully good at listening.

“I find that I am neither young enough to continue on as though I have all the time in the world ahead of me, and yet you and my father still treat me as though I am a child.”

“I do not see you as a child.”

“Good.” She swallowed as a heat she could not explain stole through her veins. “I am a grown woman.”

“I am well aware.”

She eyed him steadily. “And yet you feel the need to protect me.”

His lips quirked up the tiniest bit on one side, but that hint of a smile was enough to soften those harsh planes to the point where he was...

Her breath left her in a whoosh.

He was quite attractive, really. In a very predatory, utterly masculine kind of way.

“Believe me, I know very well how strong and brave you are. But even grown ladies require protection,” he said. His brows hitched up. “Even pirates need protection. Why do you think Marcus and I traveled together? And with a crew, no less?”

She felt a smile tugging at her own lips as well. “Fine. But I do not wish for you to think of me as some sort of...of...albatross around your neck.”

He smiled then, and she felt it to her very bones. She’d never seen a proper smile on him and it...

Oh good heavens. The carriage seemed to spin around her as she took in the sight of it. The smile made his eyes crinkle at the edges and the creases around his mouth made him seem so much less terrifying and so much more...

Handsome.

Oh dear. When had he gone and become handsome?

His smile vanished just as quickly as it had appeared and Abigail found herself rather dazed in its aftermath. What. Was. That?

And then he shocked her some more by quoting Coleridge in that low rumbly voice of his. “Water, water, everywhere. And not a drop to drink.”

She blinked. Were they still in the carriage? Was this still autumn? She’d lost all sense of time and place in the face of this man’s many facets. “You...you enjoy poetry?”

“No.” He sank back in his seat. “But you happened to refer to the one poem that was popular on the Night Raider.”

“The Night Raider?”

“Marcus’s ship,” he explained.

“Ah.” She leaned forward, more curious now than she could stand. “Will you miss it? Life at sea?”

He nodded. “Very much.”

Her gaze moved over him, from his sun-weathered skin to his thick, long black hair. “Then why leave?”

His jaw worked as he returned her watchful stare. “It was time.”

“But you are not so very old—”

A huff. “Thank you.”

“And you are obviously still in peak physical condition.”

One brow arched and she felt that heat again. Drat. She was not one for blushing and she refused to start now. “I merely meant—”

“I know what you meant.” His lips twitched a bit. “For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under Heaven.”

Her lips parted. “Ecclesiastes,” she murmured.

He looked out the window.

“A pirate who quotes Coleridge and the Bible,” she said with a smile. “I am certainly glad I’ve made your acquaintance, Caleb.”

He gave a grunt that she now knew for certain was amusement as he continued to stare out the window.

“Are you an avid reader then?”

He shot her a look that she could not decipher but it made her uneasy. Perhaps...

Oh dear.

Had that made him uncomfortable?

“Some of the crew read aloud at night.”

Some of the crew. Not him. Of course. She resisted the urge to smack a palm to her forehead. He likely could not read. Given his personal history, which he’d only now just told her about, why on earth would she ask such a question?

Before she could apologize, he had steered the conversation back to her. “Is that what upset you yesterday?” he asked abruptly.

“Pardon me?”

He leaned forward, his brows drawing down. “The fact that your father sees you as a child.”

“No.” A rueful little laugh escaped. “I suppose what was bothering me is that I’ve been forced to realize that I am no longer a girl.” He arched his brows and she sighed as she glanced away. “I told you it was silly. But with Minerva finding love and getting married, well...” She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “I suppose I couldn’t help but wonder what will become of me. That is...” She glanced down to smooth the material of her skirts. “I do not have much dowry to speak of, and I know every gentleman in the town of Billingham and…well, let us just say that not one of them ever inspired me to smile so foolishly as Minerva did from the moment she met Marcus.”

She glanced up to see him staring at her with wide eyes. “Well, you asked,” she said with an indignant huff.

His mouth clamped shut and he leaned forward. “You wish to wed.”

“Of course I do.” There was that heat again. She supposed she’d never really had any gentleman in her life whom she’d considered friends. It was difficult indeed to be discussing such a topic with a man. But he’d asked and after all he’d told her, she supposed he had every right to know the truth.

He opened his mouth. He shut