9. As Your Family…

AS YOUR FAMILY…

T he following morning, Melanie awoke in her chamber to nothing more than the sounds of a few birds chirping outside. Everything seemed to have returned to normal.

Which meant that the duke had, in fact, likely hired a competent nursemaid for little Ernest.

And that was a good thing. It meant that the child was being cared for properly. It also meant that she, Melanie, wouldn’t have to leave the comfort of her mother’s townhouse again.

After pushing the coverlet off and then swinging her feet over the side of the bed, staring at the slippers she’d left on the floor, she experienced a sense of emptiness, an odd sort of… restlessness.

She understood the emptiness right off. How could she not have fallen more than a little in love with him?

With his adorable toothless mouth, the feathery softness of his head, and eyes that gazed up at her filled with an abundance of trust? The image of his arms flailing about after she’d placed him on the changing table jumped into her mind. She smiled, recalling the sight of those naked little legs when she’d changed out his nappy—and how he’d been so brash as to send urine shooting into the air.

Something that should have repelled her had only made him seem more endearing.

Even the duke had laughed. The sound startled her, and when she’d sneaked a glance to confirm she wasn’t imagining it, she’d noticed tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

His mouth, which was usually tight and firm, had been relaxed.

And then he’d provided expert assistance in completing the task.

Alone, in the privacy of her bedchamber, Melanie laughed right out loud. No one would ever believe that she’d changed a nappy with the Duke of Malum.

An almost giddy flutter rippled through her.

She’d told him she’d expected him to be a monster. It was what he wanted everyone to believe, wasn’t it?

His answer had been even more unexpected— “ You shouldn’t believe everything you read …”

If someone had said something like this before the fire last year, she wouldn’t have understood. But now…

There were people who believed Reed was a monster, despite his good nature, despite his excellent character.

The ton , in truth, was the real monster. Because of their gossip… so much nonsensical talking…

Too much talking, as opposed to her near silence.

Only…

There were moments yesterday when she’d hardly struggled at all— because of the baby ?

She stared out the window, more than a little confused…

He was the Duke of Malum ! She ought to have been even more terrified—and therefore quieter—than usual. And yet, although she’d been nervous at first, after a few minutes in his presence, her nerves had fled.

But why?

Melanie’s fingers absentmindedly traced the ruffle on the edge of her counterpane until a knock interrupted her thoughts.

Before she could reply, the door opened, and in stepped Eloisa, balancing a tray of tea and toast.

Why wasn’t she tending to Josephine or her mother?

Melanie sent her a tentative smile, but Eloisa barely acknowledged it. Her expression, in fact, was uncharacteristically grave.

"Drink up, my lady," she said, setting the tray down on a nearby table. "Your mother, along with Lord and Lady Helton, request your presence downstairs. They wish to meet with you in your brother's study this morning."

Melanie’s brow furrowed at the mention of the study. It was rarely used, especially in her brother’s absence.

All thoughts of the duke, Ernest, and her unexpected ease around them vanished.

Because an early morning meeting—in her father’s, or her brother’s study, rather—couldn’t possibly signify anything good. Eloisa certainly didn’t seem to think it did.

This unexpected summons had to have something to do with Caroline’s concerns from the day before. What had her mother done now? If Caroline’s husband, Lord Helton, was involved, it must be bad.

That familiar fear for Reed surged within her.

“I’ve been instructed to help you dress. They are waiting for you." There was no room for delay in Eloisa’s tone.

“Of course,” Melanie answered as she leapt off the bed, ignoring the tea.

Caroline must have been right to be concerned.

Oh, Mother! What have you done?

Eloisa, efficient as ever, helped Melanie into a simple morning gown of pale lavender, smoothing out the creases as Melanie’s mind raced with possibilities. Had her mother offended someone important? Had the ton’s gossip ignited another investigation into her brother? Or did it have something to do with Josie?

Once ready, Melanie followed the maid down the stairs, where she found Josephine waiting, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.

"What…?" Melanie asked.

“I don’t know.” Josie’s usual lively demeanor was subdued, and she bit her lip. “Caroline and Lord Helton arrived early, and they’ve been here for over an hour.”

“Last night…?” Melanie’s throat closed up, so she tilted her head meaningfully. If she remembered correctly, Josie and their mother had attended a musical. Melanie couldn’t remember who the hostess had been. Perhaps Mother had been too pushy with one of Josie’s suitors. Melanie clenched her fists. “Last night?”

"Nothing. The evening was surprisingly boring, actually.” Josie had become quite talented at reading Melanie’s mind.

Melanie was even more confused now, shaking her head, silently asking the question. What, then?

"No one tells me anything, you know that,” Josie complained as they tiptoed toward the study. “But you’d better hurry. And you have to tell me everything afterwards, Melanie, even if it takes you all day.”

Her unease deepened, and with an anxious nod, Melanie sent Josephine one last look before pushing the heavy door open and slipping inside.

The mood in the room was even heavier than she’d expected.

Her mother sat rigidly on the edge of a chair, her hands folded in her lap, and Caroline stood by the window, her usual air of confidence tempered by concern. Beside her, Lord Helton, looking… disappointed.

Under the weight of an unnatural silence, Melanie glanced around the room.

All eyes were pinned on her, as though waiting…

And then it hit her. This was not about her mother. Somehow, they had learned that she’d gone to the Domus Emporium yesterday—at the very least, someone must have seen her with the Duke of Malum. And if they knew, it meant someone else, a likely busybody, had told them…

She shook her head, a thousand explanations on her tongue, but her voice failed her.

"We know, Melanie.” Caroline said. “Everything.”

Everything ?

Melanie dropped into the nearest chair, her knees suddenly weak, her mouth dryer, even, than it had been a moment ago.

She wanted to explain about poor little Ernest; that he’d cried all day, that she’d been concerned he might be ill, and that she’d gone to the butler first… The visit hadn’t been ideal, by any means, but she’d had good reason to go there.

But she couldn’t get the words to move up her throat.

Besides that, none of it mattered, not if the ton already knew!

“I’m… sorry,” she finally managed, meeting Caroline’s accusing stare.

“As you should be.” It was their mother who responded.

"You went to the Domus , Melanie—the Domus, of all places—unchaperoned. I told you I would speak with Maxwell about the baby,” Caroline pointed out. “And yet, you chose to risk someone seeing you at that place! Yes, the duke helped Reed last year, but not without threatening him first. Being seen with him…” She shook her head. “There’s no coming back from something like that.”

“Especially if word gets out that you are involved with his bastard child,” her mother added.

"I—I—!" Surely, even someone with a massive imagination wouldn’t think…

Melanie’s voice failed, the words tangled high in her chest. The explanation she wanted to provide was all tied up as her thoughts ran ahead of her. Was her name, even now, being bandied around by the ton? Caroline wouldn’t have allowed it to be printed in one of her husband’s papers, but his weren’t the only newspapers in London.

She frowned, frustrated that trying to do the right thing had led her to… this.

"Your concern for the child is understandable. No one faults you for that.” Lord Helton’s voice was calm but firm. "But what your mother and sister cannot understand, is why you would hide the fact that you’ve been able to speak normally again.”

Speak normally again?

But she couldn’t, really.

… Except where the duke and Ernest were concerned. The sudden memory of words literally flying out her mouth while she’d comforted little Ernest brought her up short.

It had felt unusually normal—easy, even. But why? And how did they know?

Melanie licked her lips. How could she explain something to them that she didn’t even understand herself?

“The Duke of Malum told Maxwell that you conversed with him normally—with no hesitation whatsoever.” Caroline looked more hurt than angry. "Do you not trust us?" Her voice softened. "Why would you hide this, Melanie? Why?"

“The duke…?”

So, they had not read about it in a paper, but learned of her visit from the duke himself?

She was partially relieved to know that the story of her visit to a brothel had not been printed in the papers. That it was not, in fact, tearing through the ton.

But the realization that he had… shared her business like that, not stopping to think it might get her in trouble, prickled beneath her skin.

That, along with the weight of her family’s accusation, was almost too much to bear. Melanie could only shake her head, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

Her mother sighed in disappointment, but more was coming. Melanie braced herself for it.

"I understand that you have suffered greatly, seeing the hunting lodge go up in flames, knowing they were trapped inside…” Her mother turned away for a moment and Melanie’s ears began to ring. It took her a few seconds to realize her mother was addressing her again. “We all have suffered, in our own way. And none of us fault you for your struggles. But hiding yourself away, shunning Society—this cannot continue.”

Caroline leaned forward. "We are a family, Melanie, and I cannot help but wonder if we’ve done you a disservice by shielding you from the world. Letting you go on like this. And so…” She glanced over at her husband and then to their mother, who dipped her chin. “We’re going to insist that you take your place in Society along with Josephine. You can no longer hide away in Mother’s townhouse. According to the duke, you can converse normally—you can manage. We insist you start living again, for your sake as much as ours.”

Melanie’s heart sank. They didn’t understand!

She had only wanted to help, to protect an innocent baby from an incompetent nurse. It wasn’t fair that she should be punished for it.

She had talked some, yes, but only because she had to! And mostly to the baby, for goodness’ sakes.

And the duke, rather than thank her for her troubles, had betrayed her!

She’d been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, to think he wasn’t the monster those rumors had painted him to be, and then he had gone and done this.

Spilled all the details of her very minor indiscretion to her brother-in-law.

She glanced across the room to the empty desk, the one where her father ought to be.

Only, if her father was here, she wouldn’t be like this.

And a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if, on a level Melanie didn’t understand, Caroline might be right. Had she really done her best to act normally?

What was the matter with her?

Her mother took Melanie’s hand in hers and squeezed it gently. "We are only looking out for you, my dear. We want what is best—for you and for all of us."