21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

H e was not good company, but Nathaniel could not seem to bring himself to talk as freely as everyone else around the table.

Al had not returned with Eddie and John after they'd visited neighbors earlier in the day but had returned home to attend to matters, no doubt because of female drama. However, he'd requested they meet at the paper mill in the morning so he might not be the only one subjected to shopping with his sisters.

Nathaniel knew he should be grateful to Al for taking the planning of an excursion out of his hands since it had been his intention to show Melior about town today before John had arrived. But his mind was consumed with confusion in light of the information shared by his mother.

Had his whole life been a lie?

"Do you know how paper is made?" John asked Melior.

John's question pulled Nathaniel out of his reverie. Glancing up, he watched for her reaction. Her blue eyes sparked with interest and perhaps a bit of excitement, but she shook her head and looked down at her plate.

The duke frowned, peering at his niece over his wine glass. She peeked up at him and, pursing her lips, gave another subtle shake of the head.

Nathaniel set his fork down and leaned back, suspicious of the silent dialogue playing out in front of him. John's enthusiastic description of the process was drowned out by the thoughts consuming him.

When he was younger, he'd been allowed to stay at Kendall House for a couple of school holidays. The first few times he had stayed, Melior had always had a book nearby. Did she still indulge in a fair amount of reading?

Melior listened intently to John, but once or twice she glanced down at her plate, a secretive smile on her face. He'd seen that look before. She knew far more than she was letting on.

He began to put the pieces together. The first time John had come they took tea in the library, and his mother had mentioned Melior spent a good deal of time there. And yet when she'd found his book after dinner last evening, she'd denied reading novels.

John ended his long-winded explanation.

"You are quite versed in papermaking, Lord Newhurst."

Her compliment was given with all the alacrity of the most featherheaded women in London. Why did she try so hard to make herself appear less intelligent?

"Thank you, Lady Stanford. It has been a particular fascination of mine."

"As well as steam engines, if I recall." She smiled demurely.

"Indeed." John's eyebrows inched up. "You have a fine memory."

"Hardly," Eddie quipped. "She was in the park walking with Lord Caraway on the day we met with Mr. Watt."

Melior's face fell at the reminder and Nathaniel's heart fell with it. Why did her brother have to choose this time to remind her of what she had lost? Especially when things were looking up for them. Nathaniel wanted to smack him for the ill-timed reminder.

Thankfully the conversation was broken up by the arrival of the second course, but his curiosity about how well read Melior actually was remained.

When dinner concluded, Melior rose to leave them to their port. Something tugged at Nathaniel's heart as he watched her quietly walk to the door on her own. She would be alone, again, like she had been so much of the last few weeks.

"Gentlemen," he said, "might we dispense with port this evening?"

Melior paused by the door, hopefulness in her eyes as she cast him a curious glance.

"Most definitely," His Grace said, followed by a chorus of agreements.

The smile that bloomed on his wife's face was worth twenty glasses of port and warmed his insides just as much. My, she was beautiful.

He crossed the room and offered his arm to her. She gently slipped her hand onto his forearm, and they led the way to the drawing room.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I find I am loath to be alone this evening."

It was the most she had ever admitted to him of her unhappiness and he cherished her willingness to share her feelings. After last evening, he'd been concerned she'd not believed him when he'd claimed she could confide in him.

"I can understand. Havencrest has been awfully dull these last few weeks, but I hope to remedy that."

"Oh?"

"Yes. First I must publish about that I have taken a wife."

"But the people about Maidstone know that already."

"Not because of me. I am ashamed to admit that after our quarrel in the carriage I was remiss in sending out the requisite announcements. The only reason you have received any visitors is due to my mother's refusal to listen to my objections."

She stopped and faced him. "You asked your mother not to tell her friends?"

"I did, but I know now—"

"Not here," she hissed, glancing over his shoulder as the others approached.

The anger that lined her brow and pinched her lips frightened him. They'd made so much headway. Had he ruined it?

She propelled them back into motion. "We can speak of this later."

Later? She was going to give him a later? That was far more promising than he'd hoped. Why had he been so petty?

And yet, he'd not done it all out of spite. He'd wanted her to have space to adjust. That was what he'd wanted. Time and space.

He watched the others fall into an easy conversation about music. Was that really it? Had it been for Melior's sake… or his own, because he did not want visitors? How selfish he'd been.

Eddie gestured with his head toward the far windows and Nathaniel followed without question, leaving Melior with John and her uncle.

"Are you well? You have not been yourself since I returned this evening."

"Simply some unexpected news of my past. Well, more particularly my parents."

"Anything you wish to speak of?"

"Eddie, has your father ever spoken of courting any other woman than your mother?"

His eyes snapped to Nathaniel's, and the truth of it was written there.

"You knew."

Eddie bowed his head. "I am sorry, Nate. My father tried to convince me not to be your friend when I was younger. He claimed some nonsense about your mother breaking off their courtship because she'd run off with your father. I did not believe him, nor did I think it important enough to bring up with you. We'd been friends for several years by that point, and I think he was only concerned because you were coming to visit for the first time."

"Concerned how?"

Eddie's gaze darted to Melior.

"Impossible."

"Look, my mother has been molding Melior for a high title for as long as I can remember. The best tutors and governesses, dancing instructors, and painting masters. You would not believe the amount of hope they held out for her to make a brilliant match. Why do you think they disliked any of you coming over so much?"

"I assumed it was simply because they wished for you to associate with higher-born gentlemen."

Eddie's bark of laughter caught Nathaniel by surprise. "Hardly. I am a second son, only useful if the first goes and gets himself killed. Otherwise I am a burden. Since Osborne seems to be whole and healthy, there is no need for me. They care little for what I am about as long as I stay out of the way and marry well."

Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder. They'd caught the attention of the others. Had they overheard Eddie's admission? After a moment however, Melior entered back into a quiet conversation with the other two men.

"I suppose I should keep my voice down," Eddie said.

"Indeed."

They stood quietly for a moment.

Nathaniel clasped his hands behind his back. "I did not know that my parents had been forced to wed. That they had been in the exact position I now find myself in."

"By my father's words, I thought your mother had chosen to marry your father."

"Apparently not. And yet my mother says she does not regret it. They were happy, Eddie. Very happy."

"So why does this upset you?"

"Because all my life I have thought that love was the prerequisite to a happy union, and now I find it is not."

"I should think that would be a relief."

Nathaniel let Eddie's words sink in. A relief? It should be a relief.

Eddie continued, "Your parents found love even with their unfortunate beginning, which means you and Melior have a chance."

"If we can find the key to their success, we might."

"Nate, love does not come in a mold or have an exact formula for the equation to turn out right. If so, some of the happiest marriages I have seen would never have worked. But just like how each person is vastly different, so are relationships. They are tailor made to each couple who enters into them."

Shifting his stance so he could peer directly at his friend, Nathaniel said, "When did you become an expert on love?"

"I am not," Eddie chuckled. "I simply paraphrased a discussion I once had with my Aunt Lucinda."

Nathaniel smiled. "She sounds as wise as my mother. No wonder they were friends."

"Now that is a piece of information I did not know."

"Neither did I until today."

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Nathaniel's attention. John had stood so the friends returned to the group.

"You are not leaving, are you?" Eddie asked.

"I am afraid I must."

"But you will be joining us in the morning, will you not?"

"Yes, I will meet you in Maidstone. I have some things to attend to." John's quick glance between Nathaniel and the door signaled his desire to speak privately.

Nathaniel gave a subtle nod. "I will escort you out."

"Thank you."

In the hall John glanced nervously about but said nothing.

"Was there something you wished to say?" Nathaniel asked.

"It is just…"

"Yes."

"There will be so many ladies..."

"Only Al's sisters." Nathaniel shifted toward the front door.

"Not so. I heard him mention that Miss Javenia Harris has returned from Town to escape Lord Penwick again."

"Is it that time of year already?"

John nodded. "And you know how Al's sisters fancy her company."

Nathaniel placed a hand in the pocket of his dark blue dinner jacket. "As does Al, even though he claims he does not."

"Exactly. So you can see my predicament."

"You know you will have to learn how to interact with pretty ladies someday, my friend. Might as well practice now. Besides you have been getting on quite well with Melior. Can you not extend that to other young ladies of your acquaintance?"

John shook his head, a bead of sweat appearing on his face. "You know what an idiot I make of myself."

"Nonsense." Nathaniel patted him on the back. "Imagine they are all ten and you will get on fine. You always did splendidly with Miss Wayland."

"Yes, and then we returned from the continent to find she'd grown up."

"But you two still speak at Sunday services. I have seen you."

"Not well. I usually walk away regretting nine tenths of the things that come out of my mouth."

"There is hope then if a tenth of that is decent." Nathaniel grinned.

John gave him a begrudging smile. "Not good odds, Nate."

"But you will come tomorrow nonetheless."

He sighed. "I will come."

"Good. And who knows, maybe Miss Wayland will be around to awe with your tenth of a good conversation."

John rolled his eyes as he took his hat from Thompson. "Thank you for the encouraging words."

Nathaniel cast him an unrepentant grin. "Any time, friend."