CHAPTER 74

THE TEST..

The Vandell estate had grown quieter after the dinner, but Abigail could still feel the reverberations of what had happened. Carmen’s public stumble was a moment of temporary relief, yet Abigail knew it wasn’t the end. The woman’s pride would not let her rest.

But what unsettled her most was not Carmen’s anger it was Kate’s silence. That fleeting nod, that subtle intervention, the way her questions had pulled Abigail into the center of the evening it had felt like something more. Not acceptance, but… assessment.

Carmen really was manipulative and she sure used it quite well…..but obviously not for her neither Kate or like or whosoever feared not her.

And Abigail had the gnawing sense that she was being drawn further into something she didn’t fully understand.

Two days later, while Abigail was working quietly in Luke’s study, a servant arrived with a message.

“Madam,” the woman said, bowing her head, “Lady Kate requests your presence in the east wing parlor.”

Abigail blinked. The east wing was Kate’s domain private, rarely breached by outsiders. Even Luke did not wander there unless summoned.

Her first instinct was to refuse. To say she was busy. But she caught herself. A request from Kate was never truly a request.

When she arrived, she found Kate seated in a high-backed chair by the window, sunlight spilling across her silver hair. She did not rise when Abigail entered, nor offer any greeting. She simply gestured to the chair opposite her.

“Sit.”

Abigail obeyed, smoothing her dress over her knees. Her pulse thudded in her ears.

Kate studied her in silence for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she spoke.

“I sent for you because I dislike ambiguity,” she said coolly. “The other night, you spoke boldly. Some would say too boldly. Yet you did not falter.”

Abigail swallowed. “I only said what I believed to be true.”

“Yes,” Kate replied. “And that is why I will be watching you more closely. Opinions are cheap. But the way one carries them that is what matters.”

Abigail forced herself to meet her gaze. “What is it you want from me?”

Kate’s lips curved faintly, though not into a smile. “That is what I intend to find out.”

The first test came sooner than Abigail expected.

At a luncheon the following day, Kate arranged the seating so that Abigail was placed beside an elderly cousin, Mrs. Aldridge, notorious for her sharp tongue and habit of fishing for gossip.

It was no accident. Abigail knew immediately.

“So,” Mrs. Aldridge said after the first course, leaning closer. “You and Luke seem… close. But tell me, my dear, what do you make of Carmen’s position here? Everyone knows she is… ambitious. Surely it must concern you.”

It was bait. A test of discretion.

Abigail sipped her water slowly, buying time. Around the table, she could feel Kate’s eyes on her, though the woman never looked directly.

She set her glass down and answered carefully. “Carmen is… formidable. She has her strengths. As for me, I’ve learned it’s best not to measure myself against others, but against what I can bring.”

The old woman blinked, disappointed at being denied the morsel she sought.

From the head of the table, Kate raised her napkin, concealing the slightest flicker of acknowledgment. Abigail had passed this time.

Two nights later, another situation unfolded.

Kate had arranged for Abigail to accompany her to a meeting with a charity board in the city. It was supposed to be a simple observation, but halfway through, Kate deliberately turned the conversation toward her.

“Abigail,” Kate said smoothly, “you’ve spoken of the importance of resources over gestures. Tell this board what that means.”

The room shifted. Dozens of eyes landed on her. Abigail’s throat tightened. This was no casual dinner; these were seasoned leaders, skeptical and proud.

But she straightened her shoulders and forced herself to speak.

“It means,” she said, “that writing a check is easy, but it doesn’t change lives. What changes lives is consistent presence. Building trust. Funding education, healthcare, infrastructure not once, but repeatedly. Otherwise, charity becomes performance.it becomes more competitive.And people deserve better than that.”

A silence followed. One man coughed, unimpressed. Another frowned. But several nodded slowly, their skepticism softened.

Kate did not praise her. Did not scold her. She simply turned the discussion back to business as if Abigail had said nothing.

But in the car ride home, Abigail noticed Kate’s hand resting loosely against the window ledge, fingers tapping in the faintest rhythm. A sign, she suspected, of satisfaction.

It was Carmen who unwittingly delivered the next trial.

At another family dinner, Carmen attempted once again to humiliate her. She recounted, with exaggerated sweetness, an old rumor about one of Abigail’s relatives a cousin who had fallen into scandal years before.

“Such a shame,” Carmen cooed, her eyes sliding to Abigail. “One wonders if character runs in families, doesn’t one?”

The words stung, sharp and ugly. Abigail felt heat rise in her chest. Luke bristled beside her, ready to intervene.

But Abigail stopped him with a touch to his hand. She turned calmly to Carmen, her voice steady.

“One wonders,” she echoed softly, “if kindness does.”

The table went still. Carmen’s face blanched.

And Kate….Kate’s eyes gleamed, just faintly, before she lowered them back to her plate.

Abigail had not lashed out. She had not descended into Carmen’s venom. She had held her ground with restraint. And that, she knew, had been another test.

That night, Abigail paced her chambers restlessly. She felt like a pawn on a chessboard she could not fully see, moved into positions that tested her resolve, her patience, her intelligence.

Kate was orchestrating it all.

And though Abigail resented being scrutinized, a part of her understood. This was not cruelty. It was calculation. Kate was measuring her not to destroy her, but to see if she could withstand the fire.

Luke found her by the window, her arms crossed.

“She’s testing me,” Abigail admitted. “Every word, every situation it’s deliberate.”

Luke leaned against the wall, watching her carefully. “And how do you feel about that?”

Abigail hesitated. Then, with a small breath: “Terrified. But… also alive. Like I’m finally becoming the woman I was meant to be.”

Luke’s expression softened. He crossed the room, pressing his forehead gently to hers. “Then keep standing, Abigail. My mother doesn’t waste time on those who can’t rise. If she’s testing you, it means she’s beginning to see you.”

Abigail closed her eyes, letting his words steady her.

Meanwhile, in her private parlor, Kate sat alone with her tea, her thoughts as sharp as ever.

Abigail had surprised her. She had shown discretion, resolve, restraint qualities rare in the young and unseasoned.

But Kate did not mistake sparks for flames. Many could shine briefly before burning out. What mattered was endurance.

Still, she found herself almost… curious. Almost approving.

“Perhaps,” she murmured softly to herself, “the girl has more steel than silk after all.”

Her eyes narrowed, thoughtful.

But she would not show her hand. Not yet. Abigail still had far more to prove.

In the quiet of the Vandell estate, the invisible game deepened.

Kate, silent and calculating, set the stage.

Abigail, unknowing yet perceptive, met each test with growing strength.

And Carmen, watching from the sidelines, seethed as the ground beneath her began to shift.

What had begun as resistance was turning into a reckoning.

And Abigail without realizing it was stepping into the kind of power she had once thought impossible.