34. Sisters

SISTERS

J osie had fetched Melanie moments ago, their mother already eager to depart for home, yet now they stood idly in Reed’s foyer as everyone lingered over their goodbyes. Shifting uncomfortably, Melanie’s hands smoothed over the creases in her gown for the hundredth time.

No one had questioned Malum’s early departure, and that was a relief. But how could they not notice? How could they not see that something monumental had happened outside in that courtyard? She’d just experienced a life-changing event. How was it possible there was no visible sign?

Her chest tightened at the thought. She’d shown no restraint whatsoever. She’d practically thrown herself at him.

She was no longer untouched.

“Really, Mel?” Caroline’s voice right beside her ear nearly had Melanie jumping out of her skin. Her sister shook her head with a smirk that had Melanie’s heart jumping up into her throat. Did she know…?

Caroline reached up, plucked something out of Melanie’s hair, and then held a stray blade of grass between them. “Stargazing again?”

“What—? I mean. Oh. Yes. You caught me.” Melanie forced a sheepish smile. “It’s a beautiful night,” she added, ignoring the silent question in her older sister’s eyes.

Perhaps the signs weren’t so invisible after all…

Although, if Caroline had any idea as to what had actually taken place, there was no way she’d be laughing and smiling right now.

Would she?

To her sister, to all of them, Melanie was the same girl she’d been earlier that evening—quiet, dutiful, predictable—aside from her near-interrogation of Northwoods at dinner, maybe.

But Melanie was not, in fact, the same. How could she be?

She’d crossed a pivotal threshold, and now everything—every breath, every heartbeat—felt different.

She felt different.

Oddly enough, though, as her mother finally concluded her goodbyes and they stepped onto the street, the world went on as though nothing had changed.

By the time they were seated in the carriage heading home, Melanie’s composure was hanging by a thread.

She’d asked him what it meant, but he hadn’t given her an answer, and perhaps he hadn’t understood what she’d truly intended with her question in the first place. She’d wanted to know not what the consequences were, but what it had meant to him.

Had it been nothing more than a physical act, similar to the ones that took place at the Domus ?

Not for her.

No. No, it had meant much more than that.

“ Melanie…” He’d said her name just before Josie had come looking for her.

The carriage hit a bump and Melanie gripped the edge of her seat.

The subtle scents clinging to her seemed even more obvious in the close confines of the dim interior—Malum’s smoky cologne, and the grass, of course, but also… something musky and sensual, and what she could only imagine to be the scent of…

Sex.

She shifted awkwardly, horrified at the thought that her mother, who was seated beside her, might notice.

As for Josie, however, aside from a frown and a comment about Melanie’s wrinkled gown, her sister merely flicked a few annoyed glances in her direction. Of course, Melanie already knew why Josie was displeased with her, and it had very little to do with her little… tryst in the garden.

Josie’s frown lingered in Melanie’s thoughts during the silent ride home, a quiet reprimand for the way she’d spoken to Lord Northwoods at dinner. As the carriage wheels clattered along, Josie stubbornly stared out the window.

By the time they rolled up to the townhouse, Melanie exhaled a deep breath.

She followed her mother up the steps, handed off her reticule and gloves, and then, long after the door was locked behind them and everyone else had gone their separate ways, wasn’t at all surprised to find Josie waiting, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“I cannot believe you were so rude,” Josie said through clenched teeth. “I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life. And then, to disappear like that… Were you really alone? Because I couldn’t help but notice?—”

“Of course I was alone!” Melanie forced a laugh, shaking her head. “And I’m sorry.” She moved toward the staircase, her sister following closely. Melanie lowered her voice to a near whisper. “But we need to talk.” And then she added, “About Lord Northwoods.”

“What about him?”

But Melanie didn’t think it wise to have this discussion on the staircase, where anyone could hear.

“Not here.”

She had hoped for a moment of solitude to gather herself, but given how fleeting opportunities to speak privately had been lately, she couldn’t delay. Once they’d entered her bedchamber, Melanie closed the door behind them and then moved to the small table by the window, lighting the waiting candles with practiced ease. Shadows flickered across the walls before the tiny flames settled into a steady burn.

Josie’s brow furrowed. “First, you spend nearly a year shaking your head at us, hardly saying anything. Now, you’re haranguing the one gentleman in all of the ton who has decided to court me, in spite of that horrible article—which was your fault, by the way.”

The room brightened as the candles cast their warm glow, highlighting the porcelain figurines on the mantle, a small collection of Melanie’s favorite books, and the embroidery samplers she’d completed when she was younger. They seemed to belong to an entirely different person now, someone Melanie was ready to leave behind.

But Josie was waiting for an explanation.

Gathering her thoughts, Melanie chose her words carefully. “I don’t…” She swallowed. “I don’t think he’s a good match for you.”

“Why?” Josie’s tone was defensive. “Because you don’t want anyone else in the family sharing your spotlight now that you’re going to become a duchess?”

This was the thing about sisters: Melanie loved Josie, she truly did, but sometimes she had to fight the urge to strangle her. At the same time… she could see why Josie might feel this way. Melanie did feel guilty—for how her silence had affected her family, for being caught in a compromising position with the Duke of Malum, for that blasted article—for all of it. But she wasn’t actively trying to sabotage her baby sister, for goodness’ sake!

“This has nothing to do with me,” Melanie said. “I just… I want to make sure you’re happy, truly happy. Do you even like him? Or know anything about his character? Do you enjoy conversing with him? Please, please tell me it isn’t because of his title.”

Josie faltered, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not just his title,” she muttered, striding across the room and sitting on the edge of Melanie’s bed. She kicked her feet out and stared at them wordlessly for nearly half a minute before continuing. “It’s the way he treats me. He makes me feel… grown-up. Everyone else treats me like a child, but he doesn’t.”

Now Melanie merely wished to strangle Lord Northwoods, for preying on someone as young and vulnerable as her sister.

She crossed to her bed and reached out, taking Josie’s hand. “Feeling grown-up is one thing, but that’s no reason to marry someone.” Later, Melanie might take a moment to appreciate the irony in her lecturing anyone on the reasons to marry or not to marry. And, knowing also how heady attraction could feel, she realized that forbidding Josie outright might only drive her closer to Northwoods.

If it was Caroline telling Melanie to steer clear of Malum, Melanie thought she might do just the opposite. No, she knew that she would.

Telling her sister that the man she was infatuated with was only being so attentive and flirtatious because of Josie’s dowry, when she herself didn’t know all the facts… It seemed almost cruel. “Just don’t…” give him your heart. Don’t give him your body… “Don’t make any promises. And be careful. You have all the time in the world. There is nothing wrong with waiting for someone better.”

Josie’s mouth pinched together, her expression guarded, but then she nodded reluctantly.

Melanie was going to have to speak with Malum about this. He would know how to handle the earl, wouldn’t he? Or at least how to keep Josie safe from him.

Moving to join Josie on the bed, Melanie felt a lingering…awareness, a new kind of tenderness that made her acutely aware of the intimacies she’d experienced earlier—the fact that she’d allowed him…

It was impossible to ignore, just as it was impossible to deny—she was going to have to speak with Malum about everything.

When Josie finally left, Melanie declined her maid’s assistance and closed the door firmly behind her, alone at last. She crossed the room to the window, pulled back the drapes, and pushed it open. The silence of Regent Street stretched beyond the window, serene and undisturbed, a stark contrast to the thoughts racing through her mind.

The events of the last few days played through her thoughts in fragments. The few things she’d learned about Harry, about his father. And later, their disquieting meet-up with the Duke of Crossings—his cold stare and what had felt like veiled threats. Her concerns about Josie and Northwoods.

And then, what had taken place in the courtyard…

Her cheeks burned at the memory, her body still tingling from Malum’s touch. She could almost feel him, his warmth and weight, his mouth on her skin.

The stretching.

The filling.

What was he doing now?

Would he send a missive—a love letter? That didn’t really seem his style. He would call on her, surely.

When, she couldn’t know. All she knew was that they needed to talk. And soon.

When Malum had first proposed, under Reed and Helton’s pressure, she’d convinced him their engagement would only be temporary. She didn’t want a husband who had no choice in the matter.

But tonight… What had happened between them changed everything. Hadn’t it?

“ Melanie …” What would he have said if Josie hadn’t come outside?

She heard it again, her name, faint and distant, as if carried on the night breeze.

“Melanie?”