20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

M elior rubbed a hand over her tan dress, smoothing the fabric. She'd forgotten they were to sit for another drawing this morning. Perhaps her maid's lack of attention to her duties had saved her from appearing rude to Lord Newhurst.

"Very nice." Lord Newhurst moved to Nathaniel. "And you sit just there." He directed his friend to the other side of the small bench. "Now turn and look at one another."

They did as he instructed, their knees bumping into each other as they turned. Melior giggled as Nathaniel offered his apologies.

"I believe we are both at fault," she said softly.

"Even so, as a gentleman I should take responsibility when I accidentally assault a lady," he said equally as quietly.

"Lady Stanford, place both your hands in your lap and clasp them," Lord Newhurst called out from where he sat several yards away. "Yes, very good. Now, Nate, place your right hand on her cheek."

Nathaniel turned to look at his friend, eyebrows raised.

"No, not at me," Lord Newhurst said, exasperation coloring his voice. "At her."

Melior smiled as Nathaniel shook his head, then slowly placed his hand on her cheek, his thumb sweeping gently back and forth a few times before it settled. His eyes searched hers and Melior's smile slipped.

Even though slightly blurred, she did not miss the intensity in his gaze as it burrowed into her. She swallowed hard, feeling like there was a lump in her throat. With each minute they quietly peered at one another, Melior's heart beat a little faster, her chest expanding more with each deliberate breath. What had changed between them?

The hesitation she'd once felt was gone.

Did Nathaniel feel the same? Perhaps. Why else would he be so attentive?

It must be a trick of the light, or a misguided remnant of her lack of sleep. That must be it. She was imagining the look.

"Dear me," Eddie said from the door. "That adoring gaze is too unsettling for my blood. How can you stand to look at them being all lovey like that, John?"

Melior and Nathaniel chuckled and broke eye contact.

"Now look at what you have done." If a look could shoot daggers, Melior was sure Lord Newhurst's was doing just that, for he peered at Eddie as if he wanted to wring his neck. "Do you know how hard it will be to get them situated exactly how I had them?"

"Oh it cannot be that difficult. Nate, Mel, carry on."

Melior snickered. They tried to return to the same position but neither one could keep a straight face with Eddie calling out instructions on how he thought they'd appeared when he entered the room.

Lord Newhurst let out an exasperated sigh. "It is no use, Eddie. The lighting has changed too much in the quarter hour you have spent barking useless orders."

Her brother's affronted look made her giggle even harder and she turned to share her amusement with Nathaniel. He grinned back, but then sobered.

They stared into one another's eyes. In the background she could hear her brother arguing with Lord Newhurst, but all she could think about was the wild urge she had to lean forward and kiss Nathaniel. It would not be improper, she reminded herself. They were married after all.

And yet…

Nathaniel leaned forward, his eyes flicking to her lips. Had she somehow spoken her thoughts out loud? She inhaled sharply, holding her breath with anticipation as he placed his hand back on her cheek.

"That's it," Lord Newhurst called out. "Now hold that position."

Nathaniel paused, his eyes snapping with a look she could not quite understand. Was it frustration, disappointment? Or was he simply trying to return to the expression they'd both had before? Melior slowly let out the air in her lungs.

For her part, she hoped it was disappointment because those were her sentiments entirely. She supposed she'd have to content herself with his hand on her cheek and the knowledge that they were making progress toward an amiable existence.

Gingerly, Melior took up a seat next to her mother-in-law's bed.

"What is ailing you?" Lady Stanford asked.

"It seems a month away from riding has made me soft. I forget that country rides with my brother are a great deal harder than the slow ambling ones through Hyde Park."

Lady Stanford chuckled. "I have not forgotten how sore one's backside can get after a long absence from the saddle."

"And one's limbs." Melior giggled. "I am certain I will be several shades of blue and purple from the rub of the leaping head. While I do adore those colors, I would rather they not be on my skin."

"Very true." Lady Stanford grinned.

"It is good to see you smiling, Mother," Nathaniel said from the open door.

Melior peeked over her shoulder at him, only to find her uncle standing outside the room. She rose.

Nathaniel approached the bed. "Would you mind if His Grace joined us for tea in here?"

"Not in the least, as long as he does not mind seeing an old woman laid out like a roast duck."

Melior threw a hand over her mouth to cover her laugh, but her uncle was not so discreet. His low chuckle filled the room.

"I must say, the last roast duck on my table was not dressed half so fine."

"You mean it lacked a mob cap and shawl. Poor thing must have been quite chilly."

"I think not. The turnips and parsley kept it quite comfortable."

Lady Stanford laughed. "You always were good for a little nonsense, Your Grace."

Uncle Percy smiled and sat on the other side of the bed from where Melior retook her seat. "I am unsure if that is a compliment or an observation on my intelligence."

"Both. Only intelligent people are quick witted enough to match drollery for drollery."

"Then I shall return the compliment. You are as witty as ever."

"Yes, at least one part of me still works adequately well."

Melior smiled but the men turned somber, the reminder of Lady Stanford's failing health stealing the humor from the room. Nathaniel picked up a chair near the door and moved it next to hers.

"I had not realized you and the duke were so well acquainted, Mother. Why have you not mentioned it before?"

For the first time Melior could remember, Lady Stanford blushed. It was an odd look for the aging lady, but the color added more life to her face than Melior had seen since she'd arrived nearly a month ago.

"A lady must be allowed to have some secrets, son." She gave a sassy flick of her hand. Nathaniel smiled and Melior found her gaze drawn to the sight.

Over the last five years she'd rarely seen him so at ease, but he had not always been that way. There was a time when they were young that he'd never been without a smile. Those memories were so distant that she'd almost forgotten them. In some ways, the Nathaniel from her youth had completely disappeared from her memory until now.

Lady Stanford reached out her hand and Uncle Percy took it. He gave her an encouraging nod. She squeezed his hand and let go. "But it seems with the current situation, perhaps this secret deserves to be told."

What sort of story could have brought on such a tender gesture? Melior found herself leaning forward, anxious for her mother-in-law to continue.

"Lucinda Mayweather was my dearest friend in all the world. We grew up on neighboring estates, and there was not a moment of my childhood that I did not remember her being part of it. We came out during the same season with the hope of finding two gentlemen who lived near enough to one another that we'd be able to go on being neighbors for the rest of our lives."

A cough seized her and Nathaniel quickly handed her a handkerchief, followed by a glass of water. Melior's heart pinched at the pained expression on Lady Stanford's face.

"We do not have to continue, Mother, if you are unwell."

She waved a hand. "A little coughing fit never stopped this old lady before. Now, sit down so I can finish my tale."

Melior's lips curved as her husband did as he was told.

"We did meet two gentlemen, you know." Lady Stanford's gaze flicked to the duke before it returned to them. "Both handsome and well connected."

A subtle look at Nathaniel showed he was as anxiously engaged in listening as she was.

"But with no lands near one another?" he asked.

"Oh, they had several estates in common."

Melior's confusion must have displayed itself on her face, for her mother-in-law said, "It was not Sir Nathaniel Stanford the third. He and the Duke of Bedford had never met until that fateful night at the assembly at the Beckham's country estate."

"Then who?" Melior asked.

"Your father."

Leaning back in her chair, she stared wide eyed at Lady Stanford. "You and my father?"

"Do not look at me so. It was no more than a few strolls through Hyde Park and a dance every now and again. But yes, your father was one of my beaus. That is, until I accidentally got locked in the library with Nathaniel's father."

"Yes, and it took over an hour for your parents to locate you both." Uncle Percy chuckled. "If only they had been the first to happen upon the unfortunate circumstance, the whole debacle might have been avoided."

"I am glad they were not the first," Lady Stanford said emphatically. "It was the best mistake that ever happened to me."

"Are you saying…" Nathaniel's head shook slowly back and forth. "No, it could not be."

"Yes. We were forced to wed."

"But… but…"

Instinctively Melior reached out and slipped her hand into his. Nathaniel glanced at her, pain evident in his fine features.

"I always assumed you had a love match. That your souls were made for one another."

"And they were. But Nathaniel, soulmates are not found."

"They are not?"

"No, they are made . Two people can love each other very much, but if they do not choose each other every day that love will die."

"As it has with my parents," Melior said, little needles like glass pricking her heart.

"Unfortunately,"—Uncle Percy eyed her— "your parents did not have much love to begin with. I am glad Lady Stanford did not marry your father. He would have made her miserable. Nor do I think he ever would have come up to scratch. While Lady Stanford is a handsome woman, he was looking for an heiress, which he found in your mother."

Nathaniel stood abruptly. "Excuse me."

Melior was tempted to follow him, knowing how this must have tipped his well-organized world on its edge, but Lady Stanford put a hand on hers.

"Let him go. It will take time for him to grow accustomed to the knowledge that life as he knew it started out far different than he had assumed."

She let her mother-in-law's wise words sink in. The knowledge of their families' connections had indeed been hard to take. There were so many questions to ask—about Aunt Lucinda, about her father, but most importantly about how her mother and father-in-law had made a marriage work after only knowing each other such a short time.