Chapter 15.
A Time for Romance.

It was early afternoon of the next day, Sunday. Abigail sat nervously on a bench at the park. She had sent a note to David yesterday, asking him to meet her here. It had been the first argument they had had since the ball last December, and for some reason, Abigail was a little nervous.

It's not like it was a fight over something big and important. Knowing David's personality, he won't hold it against me for too long...will he?

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Abigail came back to reality and glanced up. David stood in front of her, curiosity peering from his eyes.

"How lost in thought were you?"

"I wasn't lost, I knew the way back," Abigail argued. "Have a seat."

"Sorry about yesterday," he apologized as he sat down on the same bench but kept a comfortable distance between them. "There really was no need to lose my temper the way I did. I don't know what came over me."

"There is no need to apologize," Abigail replied. "In fact, I am glad you said the things you did. It helped me to think over many things. You were right about how I allowed George to influence me. He's a good man, but a bit air headed. Aunt Imogen spoils him and so he has very little understanding of responsibility."

"Truer words were never spoken," David agreed with a shake of his head. "I think that's one reason why we became such close friends at Oxford. Back then, I was also an irresponsible fellow who just wanted to have a good time. The difference, of course, was that as a younger son I finally had to put idleness behind me. While George, as the only son and heir to a nice estate and four thousand a year, could afford to continue his lazy lifestyle." David let out a bitter chuckle at this. "You two were always thick as thieves. You followed him around like a shadow and did whatever he told you."

Now it was Abigail's turn to let out a bitter chuckle. I guess some things remain the same, amnesia or not.

"I do always listen to him," she agreed with David. "But, as you pointed out yesterday, in allowing him to think for me, I don't think for myself. It's a serious situation, but because George waved it away, I followed in his footsteps. The funny thing is, I do such a good job of thinking for myself when George is not around, but whenever he shows up, it is as if someone casts a spell over me." She shook her head, disappointed in herself. "Anyway, I have made up my mind to depend on myself completely from now on. I shall keep George only as a good friend and brother, but won't treat his suggestions and ideas as the Gospel truth. The man is nearing thirty and still runs to Mummy for everything, I think that should have been a warning sign for me long long ago."

David tried hard to suppress his laugh.

"At least you grew up," Abigail added with a humph.

There was a slight pause before David took a deep breath and, reaching out, took Abigail's hand. This action caught Abigail by surprise, and she would have snatched her hand away, but David held it firm.

"Abigail, while I never once thought that you depended on George for anything, you always give the impression of a woman who knows her own mind, I am at the same time glad that you understand he can be a bad influence and one you want to stay away from. That being said, I hope you won't fail to depend on me if and when you need it. Just because George isn't always the most sound person doesn't mean that everyone else is like him."

A faint smile came to Abigail's lips. "I think you made that pretty clear yesterday. Your approach was the exact opposite of his. Don't worry, I know I can depend on you to truly help. You have proved yourself time and time again."

Silence ensued after her encouraging words. They sat quietly on the bench. David still held her hand in both of his, his grey eyes looking deep into hers. Abigail could feel her heart beating faster and faster. If he didn't stop staring at her like that, she was afraid her heart would beat itself right out of her chest.

And yet she could not break away from his gaze. It was deep, earnest, and pleading. There seemed to be so much he wanted to say, and yet he wouldn't allow himself.

"You say I am greatly different from what I was four years ago," she whispered at last.

"Very different."

"You are different as well."

"Am I?"

"Back then, you wanted to elope. You pleaded with me to run away with you. You didn't stop to think of how we would survive when you had no income, and I only a meager one hundred pounds a year that I still had to wait one year to inherite. Now, here you sit, a man with a profession and a future, and you remain silent."

The poor man's face turned a bright red from her words. He let out a low cough. "In all honesty, I'm afraid to say anything, lest I should frighten you away the same way I did four years ago. I was young and foolish and didn't know enough of the world to understand how it worked. To be honest, I don't blame you for refusing me. Back then, there was no future, even now...well... I haven't been admitted to the bar yet, so I still have to depend on the allowance my brother provides for me. I don't dare ask for anything."

Abigail reached out her free hand and placed it over his. In these three years, they both had changed, both had grown, it was nice that he understood the situation and respected her enough to keep his feelings to himself. And yet, at the same time, Abigail was tired of him supressing his feelings. Friendship was nice. Being partners in a fight for reform was even better, but day by day, she felt more strongly that it wasn't enough. She wanted more.

Was she greedy? Was she wrong? They had loved and lost once, and then she had gone and forgotten all about it. Now she had to get to know him all over again. And yet, there was something in his smile, in his laugh, in his eyes, that seemed to bring out a hint of a memory. She had felt the same way when she had first met him. This gave her a sense of courage to charge forward. After all, it was no fun to just walk home with David once a week after a meeting. She wanted to meet him more, not for business, not for reform, not for any other reason than to just be in each other company.

"You have not because you ask not."

Her words caused him to open his eyes wide and blink several times at her.

"I'm still terrified of your brother and what he might do to me," she added, "but every day I wake up and tell myself that courage is not the absense of fear, but the conquest of it. If I can face off those annoying factory owners and public officers, why can I not do so for my own happiness. I was a coward once, and I am learning to be brave. David," she leaned forward just a little, "we can try again. Perhaps not in the same way we did in our youth, but in a quiet, steady way. You will be admitted to the bar, you will start your own practice, and until then, we can just live one day at a time."

The poor man's eyes were growing wider and wider. It was obvious he could not believe what he was saying. His breathing was fast and heavy, and the hands that clutched hers tightened their grasp. Suddenly, he reached over and, without warning, pulled her into his arms. She heard him let out the quietest laugh into her ear.

"We are in public!" She whispered fiercly.

He pulled away immidetly. "Let me walk you home?" He begged. "I can't feel safe until we catch whoever is following you. Please, let me walk you home every day."

His whole face was aglow, and his hands trembled with joy. Abigail could only nod. He stood up and offered her his arm. She rose and accepted. He placed his hand free hand over hers. Together, they walked back.

"Do you suppose that man following me could be from your brother?"

"I don't think so. My brother would never stoop to such levels. If he wanted to know more about you, he'd investigate you properly and openly. He is a snob, but an honest one."

Abigail nodded, comforted by this fact. They walked with leisure as there was no rush to get home. David rambled on about how they used to take long walks in the country befo , and how it was harder to find places of seclusion in the city. Abigail listened, and her conscious struck her. There were two things she was keeping from him. One was her inheritance. She wasn't ready to reveal the truth about her being a wealthy woman yet. Wealth did things to people. Better wait till he was a proper lawyer.

The second caused her more grief. She still hadn't told him about her accident. He still didn't know about her amnesia. She had actually made up her mind to tell him today, but in the last minute, she decided against it. What was the point anyway? What if he started to view her differently? What if it made things awkward between them. They were so casual, so comfortable with each other.

Why risk it?