17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

M elior tucked the blanket up around her mother-in-law's chin. A gnarled hand reached out from under the intricately quilted cover and patted her hand.

"You are a good girl."

"That is kind of you to say."

"Do not patronize me, it is the truth. And it is time you believe it."

The maid who stirred the fire frowned. No doubt the woman had heard all the complaints from the upstairs staff. It seemed first impressions were long lasting in this household. Even after she'd tried to soften her demands and be more cognizant of her own behavior the maids were determined to cling to their dislike of her. Perhaps that is why one of them had stooped to taking her things. But which one?

"Would you like me to read to you, Mama?"

"Not tonight. You need to get back to your guests."

"They will be a while yet."

"Yes, but I am tired and wish to rest."

Melior nodded. "I will leave you then. Rest well."

The maid opened the door for Melior, and as she passed she thought she heard the woman mutter, "We see through you."

Melior spun to confront her, but the door shut quickly in her face. Indignation carried her the rest of the way to the drawing room. She could have knocked and demanded the maid explain herself, but the last thing she wanted was to distress Lady Stanford.

The drawing room was empty when she entered, and even though she had expected as much, the sight brought heaviness. So many times over the last few weeks she'd sat in empty rooms, the servants not even bothering to occupy them of late. Her mind flew to the missing jewelry and she stopped lamenting. Why would she want thieving servants anywhere near her?

A book lay on one of the tables near the settee and she picked it up. Not that it would do her any good; she could not see the words etched upon it without her spectacles. She ran her hand over the cover, feeling the indents of the gold lettering and the design imprinted around the spine. From the feel she could tell it was artfully decorated.

Odd how one little inconvenience like poor eyesight could keep her from the worlds she knew existed inside these covers. She held the book as far away from her face as possible. The tiny letters came into some semblance of focus.

" Zastrozzi… a Romance," she said out loud . An odd name for a book.

The door to the drawing room opened and she dropped the book quickly on the end table hoping no one had witnessed it in her hands. Her mother's words rung in her ears. No man wants a woman who reads novels.

She sought out Nathaniel, hoping her faux pas would not make him think less of her.

"An interesting book, that," Eddie said, apparently not missing a single thing. "I saw it on the shelves in London."

Sir Nathaniel snatched it off the table, the corners of his mouth turned down. He leaned close and dropped his voice. "My apologies, I had not meant to leave this in here. You did not happen to read any of it, did you?"

The heat of his breath on her ear sent pleasant shivers down her spine and it was several moments before she realized she'd not answered.

"No. I do not read novels." The lie burned on her tongue, but fear of causing more upset in her already strained situation kept her from admitting any truths.

He shifted away a bit. "Yes… well… if you did I would not suggest this one as it is probably not suitable for ladies."

She glanced at him, trying to bite back the question on her tongue, but to no avail. "And why not? Do you believe my sex is incapable of reading difficult material?"

His eyes widened. "No, not at all. It is simply that this story is quite frightening. The villain is probably the most demonic that I have ever read."

Melior relaxed. "I see."

"Dare I ask what you two are whispering about?" Mr. Roberts said. "Or is it something best kept between the newlyweds?"

With three quick steps Melior separated herself from Sir Nathaniel, embarrassed that they had been caught whispering close together. Eddie chuckled like a schoolboy and she glared at him. This only made him laugh even harder.

She sat in one of the green wingback chairs that faced the settee. "I find nothing humorous about this situation, Eddie. Perhaps you could enlighten us. Is there something comical in Mr. Roberts's appearance, or did Uncle Percy forget to wipe his mouth after supper?"

"Your deflections are getting rusty, Mel. Is that the best you can come up with?"

She shrugged. Everything felt rusty. Her natural knack for conversation was slipping and her ability to banter was falling flat. Is that what weeks of seclusion did to a person? Why had it not made her sharper? She'd had plenty of time to reflect on the words and motives of all the people still going about living their lives.

Uncle Percy spoke up. "Sir Nathaniel, I had not pegged you as one who enjoys reading as a leisure activity."

Melior shot her uncle a look, praying he would not give her away. Of all the people in the room, only he knew how much she loved the written word, or that she had such a great need for spectacles.

Sir Nathaniel sat in the chair next to hers. "I enjoy it immensely and read whenever I find time. Do you take pleasure in a good book, Your Grace?"

The conversation turned to the books the men had read and ones they wished to read. With each passing moment Melior found herself more and more tempted to impart her own reading preferences, but she bit her lip in an effort not to give away her weakness. Several titles were mentioned that piqued her interest and she wished she had a pen and paper to write them down so she might search them out later.

After several minutes the conversation rounded back to the book Sir Nathaniel had in his lap. "The villain is quite chilling. I would never wish anyone to meet with a person so callous in real life."

Eddie directed his gaze at her. "Speaking of villains, Mel. What was the name of that lady who you disliked so much?"

The sharp turn in subject left Melior confused. "I do not follow."

"You know, the one that you always tried to outshine in the ballrooms."

Angry dark brown eyes in a well-proportioned face swam in Melior's mind. "Are you implying that I would stoop to compete with Lady Jane? You should know that I am a far cry better than that."

"Lady Jane?" Nathaniel asked. "Do you mean the Duke of Rothland's daughter?"

Mr. Roberts nodded. "The very same. I had heard she was quite taken with Lord Caraway this season. Claimed he was the only man worth having."

She dug her fingernails into the arms of the chair. Of course Lady Jane would say such a thing. That Melior had felt the same was beside the point. How much Lady Jane must have crowed with those perfectly plump lips of hers when she found her way opened up by Melior's removal from the ballrooms.

"I know of this Lady Jane," Uncle Percy said. "Tall, handsome blonde who always wears white with silver accents?"

"Yes." Mr. Roberts held his hand out in front of him inspecting his nails. "Although I have seen her in pearl and eggshell."

Eddie's dark eyebrows furrowed. "Are those not different shades of white?"

"Au contraire, my friend. They are important colors all on their own."

"Melior," Uncle Percy said, cutting through the discussion of whites and creams that ensued between Mr. Roberts and Eddie. "How much does Lady Jane dislike you, do you think?"

"Enough that she would gouge my eyes out if she had the chance. I have never been in a room with her that she did not say something cutting to or about me."

"And you about her," Eddie said with a grin. "We all know the feeling is mutual."

Melior shrugged again. There was no use in denying it. She had never gotten on well with Lady Jane.

Mr. Roberts leaned forward, his gaze intent on Sir Nathaniel. "And she has been frequenting the ballrooms and operas where Lord Caraway has been seen. Plus she has danced with the man multiple times."

Lord Caraway was courting Lady Jane? Melior's heart sank. Could her life get any worse? Not that she still pined after the man. She had let him go the moment she'd realized his connections with Mr. Fairchild. But to be replaced in his heart by the one woman she could not stand was quite lowering.

Sir Nathaniel gave a little shake of his head and Mr. Roberts suddenly sat back, returning to his inspection of his hands. What was this all about?

"That is a fine necklace," Uncle Percy said.

Melior's fingers came up to touch the amethyst beads, but instead her fingers grazed the gold chain with the little cross on it. The confusion lasted only a moment until she remembered that she'd had to switch adornments because her beads were missing.

Perhaps her uncle would be a better person to confide in about the missing pieces, but one glance at Sir Nathaniel silenced her on the subject for the time being.

He was dedicated to his staff. He'd not take kindly to her supposition that one of them had been pocketing her possessions.

The corners of her mouth pulled down at the thought that she may never be able to recover her jewelry, most of which were family heirlooms.

"Are you all right, my dear?" Uncle Percy appeared alarmed.

"I am fine, only fatigued." And worried , she added to herself. "Perhaps I should turn in for the evening."

Eddie rose when she did. "Are you certain? It is early yet."

"I am. Remember Eddie, I live in the country now. We keep earlier hours. You will be here tomorrow, though, won't you?"

The men confirmed their intent to stay for a few days after which Mr. Roberts would return to his home in Pertly while her uncle and brother traveled back to London. Melior found it odd that Mr. Roberts had planned an extended stay in the country after what Sir Nathaniel had said of his love for London, but perhaps he was needed at his estate by his sisters?

She yawned. Oh well, she'd question him in the morning. It surprised her how fast she had fallen out of the habit of Town, but for now all she wanted was to make sure the rest of her jewelry was secure and snuggle down in her bed. And if a certain book she had secreted from the library happened to make its way into her hands for a few chapters she would not complain.

Nathaniel tried not to squirm as the Duke of Bedford stared him down. The others had gone to bed, but His Grace had insisted on a private meeting.

It would have been easier if the man had railed at Nathaniel, but his silent intense gaze made him feel like a child who'd been caught cheating off his mate's paper. He sat in torturous anticipation of what his sentence would be.

Finally the duke freed him from his icy blue stare. "Do you know, Sir Nathaniel, why I did not use my sway to free my niece of the rumors in London?"

"Pardon?"

"I could have done it, you know. Oh, there would have been talk, but at my rank I am granted an ample amount of liberties that a mere gentleman could hardly afford."

"Then why did you not spare us both?"

"Because I was too busy saving you and by extension, my niece. Society would have crucified you, Sir Nathaniel, as the blackest blackguard that has ever lived. You would have been branded a rake or even worse, a man who forced his attention on women."

"But I did nothing of the sort."

"You know that, and I know that, but Society is, for the most part, ignorant of the happenings of that night. For your part in saving Melior I am grateful, but we both know Society would have made up a scenario to suit their own purposes."

It was true. Society could be ruthless in its insatiable need to have new gossip to spread, and scandals were favored over all other social delicacies.

"I suppose I must thank you, then, for taking care with my reputation."

"Then why do you not thank me?"

Nathaniel was confused. Is that not what he had just done?

"True gratitude requires action, young man. It is not dismissive or inattentive. Tell me, how much have you fulfilled my wishes concerning my niece?"

A knot formed in Nathaniel's stomach at the realization of his own guilt. He wanted to justify himself, claim that she was mostly to blame for the distance. In truth, he'd hardly seen her outside of dinners, visiting neighbors, and standing for their painting.

"Very little, Your Grace." He hung his head, peering at his hands as he flexed them in his lap. "In truth, I thought it best to give her time and space to become accustomed to life here, but the days have gotten away from me and I have not even tried to win her affection… or further mine."

"And that is why she is wilting."

It was not a question. The accusation hit its mark. After Al had described the happenings in Town he'd seen her retreat within herself, the melancholy on her face achingly obvious, and it had been his fault.

Melior and people went together like crumpets and butter. Being with people filled the holes in her heart and yet he'd left her alone much of the time.

Solitude, for a woman so taken with Society, would be like a death sentence. It was no wonder she appeared so ill.

"I expected better of you, Nathaniel." His Grace laced his fingers together and placed them over his stomach as he relaxed into the chair. "Your parents had an exemplary marriage, and I had hoped you would show Melior how to love in the same manner."

"But they began on love."

"Did they?" The duke's dark eyebrows rose.

As Nathaniel searched his memory he realized he'd never questioned the assumption. They had met at a country assembly and married four weeks later. He'd heard his parents often laugh about their whirlwind marriage, but he'd assumed by their demeanor that it had been of their own choosing.

"By your expression, might I surmise that you are ignorant of the situation that led to their union?"

"Apparently I am."

The duke leaned forward. "Then might I suggest you take the time to speak to your mother about it? I could tell you myself, but it is not my story to share."

Nathaniel searched the man's face. He'd not realized the duke knew so much about his family.

"I will do that."

"See that you do. I believe once you know the whole of things your view will change and your chances of a happy marriage will drastically increase."

Nathaniel drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. "And what if Melior does not wish to have such a marriage?"

"She does. Melior was trained in love from the time she could toddle. My wife doted on her as if she was her own daughter, and in truth, she is the daughter of my heart, hence why I found a match with you to be the most advantageous."

"Advantageous? Me?"

"Yes"

"But I am a mere baronet."

The duke's lips raised in a slow meaningful smile. "Yes, one who has been smitten with Melior since long before her mother got hold of her social training."

Nathaniel opened and closed his mouth several times. "How?"

"I am not blind. I was young and in love once as well, but my wife was the true discerner."

All this time he'd thought his secret had been kept safely between him and John. He bit his fist, trying not to let shame and embarrassment overwhelm him. How many others had suspected his tendre?

"Was it so obvious?" he finally asked.

"No, but my Lucinda had a way of reading people that was unparalleled. When she pointed out what she had witnessed, I could not deny the validity of it. We told no one, and I believe only those that were close at hand could have possibly guessed. But the night you stepped in to rescue my niece I knew you would go to any lengths to make her happy, even if it meant giving up your own comfort. Melior needs a man like that."

"But she has changed from when we first met. Forgive me for saying so, but at times she is cold and calculating."

"No, she mirrors cold and calculating. What you see is her mother shining through the carefully crafted shell of perfection Melior has been expected to keep. I believe when she has had enough time to reacquaint herself with herself , you will find the intelligent, kind, and often cheeky woman she was always meant to be. But you will need to look beyond your own prejudices."

Nathaniel's head jerked back. He was not prejudiced.

"Do not act so affronted. We all have prejudices. Yours were born of a need to protect your own heart. But if you question your assumptions about Melior and assess your own behavior and how it might have pushed her to dislike you, I believe you will see an entirely different picture."

He let the duke's words mull around in his mind a moment. Was he really at fault for Melior's dislike of him? He had been quite brusque and unapproachable, but she had been so flippant and often rude, avoiding any attempt he had made to dance with her or even interact. She herself had whispered her contempt of his rank to her friends when she thought he could not hear.

A mirror of her mother? Was it possible? He reflected on Melior's behavior these last four weeks. She was nothing like the woman he'd seen in the ballrooms.

The duke leaned forward. "Will you endeavor to think highly of her even when you are tempted to judge her harshly?"

The duke's straightforward question reminded Nathaniel so much of his own father's frankness that he ached. He missed how effortlessly his father had known exactly what challenge was needed for a course correction.

"I will do my best."

The duke slapped his knees. "See that you do." He rose to his feet. "You made promises to my niece. I expect you to hold to them. Remember that you pledged to honor her, cherish her… to love her. Be a man of your word, and I will consider myself adequately thanked."

Nathaniel rose as well, the magnitude of his responsibility weighing heavy on his chest. He shook the Duke of Bedford's hand and wished him a good night, but his mind still churned. What if he did all those things and Melior never came to love him in return?