24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

T he next morning Melior instructed Baylor to begin packing her things. Initially she had thought of returning to London the day before her uncle's wedding, but in light of the situation she had convinced Nathaniel that they must leave as soon as possible. He had agreed to follow her uncle and brother back to London provided she and Miss Harris were ready by the following day. That left her only one day to pack for a trip that could last as short as a week and as long as… well, as long as it took to get Lady Jane to admit her guilt.

That Lady Jane had been behind the plot she was certain. Mr. Roberts himself had backed up her supposition when he'd mentioned seeing Lord Caraway about town with said lady.

A knock sounded on Melior's bedroom door and she ceased giving instructions to her maid. "Enter."

Mrs. Thompson opened the door. "Mrs. and Miss Wayland have come to call, should I tell them you are not taking visitors at the moment?

"No!" Melior nearly shouted in her excitement. "I mean, yes, I am taking visitors. I will be down shortly."

She adjusted her morning gown in the mirror and threw on a thick wool shawl. A grin pulled at her lips as she made her way to the sitting room. A little matchmaking was exactly what she needed to soothe her own worries. Perhaps she could ascertain where the young lady's feelings lay.

In the sitting room she greeted her guests. "Shall I ring for tea?"

"That would be lovely," Mrs. Wayland said, her voice sounding weary and her face a bit drawn. Her daughter peered at her, creases forming in her forehead.

"Are you well, Mrs. Wayland?" Melior asked.

"As well as can be expected. I am certain tea will be just the thing to rejuvenate me."

Miss Wayland patted her mother's hand. "Mama's health has been a bit of a pendulum of late. Some days are good and others not as much."

"Susannah," the middle-aged lady hissed, "must you really share all of my private concerns?"

The young woman colored prettily. "Forgive me."

Melior waved her hand. "We shall pretend it was never said."

That brought a smile to both ladies' faces.

"We had hoped to see the dowager Lady Stanford today. Is she taking visits?" Mrs. Wayland asked.

It was a reasonable request, but Melior felt a moment's disappointment that they had not come specifically for her. Then again, seeing her mother-in-law did not automatically mean they were not happy to see her as well. "Let me send a footman to see."

She rang the bell pull, requesting the footman to ascertain Lady Stanford's willingness to greet neighbors and to have tea sent up to the most convenient place for her mother-in-law.

Five minutes later the footman ushered the group to Lady Stanford's room. Melior was happy to see her seated in her bath chair awaiting tea by the little table near the fire.

Mrs. Wayland reached out to the older woman and for the first time Melior noted how odd the woman's gown fit. Was it a trick of the light or did one side of the woman's dress seem significantly bigger about the chest than the other? A fichu was tucked into the neckline, but there was some discoloration evident through the thin white fabric.

"My dear, sweet Tabitha," Lady Stanford said, taking Mrs. Wayland's hand. "How are you today?"

Mrs. Wayland's face fell and Lady Stanford's expression of hope dropped with it.

"Melior, might you take Miss Wayland to see the pianoforte while we wait for tea to be brought up? I know how much she loves our instrument."

There was nothing to do but follow orders, not with the way Mrs. Wayland's eyes began to water. "I would be delighted. Come along, Miss Wayland."

Once outside the room, Melior engaged the girl in several lighthearted topics until they reached the music room. Inside Miss Wayland sat down at the instrument and began to play. Unlike her happy chatter, the music was hauntingly sad.

As the last chords rang throughout the room a tear slipped down Miss Wayland's round pink cheek. She whisked it away and replaced her teary expression with a smile. "It has been quite some time since I have been over to play."

"Does Lady Stanford allow you to come often?"

"As often as I can."

"Then why have you not been over sooner?"

"Yesterday was the first day Mama felt well enough to leave the house in two months."

"I see. Well, I do not mind if you come on your own. I could even send a carriage for you if she is worried about your safety."

"It is not that." Miss Wayland peered down at her dress. "Mama needs… personal care. The kind she only feels comfortable having her maid or me assist with."

It was strange seeing the bubbly young woman from the day before so weighed down. Melior sat beside her.

"Would you like me to play something for you?"

Miss Wayland nodded. "It is not often that others play for me."

Melior chose a lively Scotch air that pulled a smile from the girl. She tapped her foot and clapped her hands to the beat.

"You are very good," she said when Melior finished.

"Thank you. I should be, with the expensive music tutors my parents hired to teach me."

"Yes, but you must have practiced to have such precision on the keys."

Melior grinned. "I did."

A maid entered letting them know tea had been served in the dowager's room. Melior linked her arm with Miss Wayland's as they left the room.

"I have a feeling, Miss Wayland, that you and I are going to be the best of friends."

The younger woman smiled. "You only say that because I am your closest neighbor near your age."

"Are you saying Mrs. Peabody is not near our age?"

Miss Wayland laughed at her cheeky remark. "I like you, Lady Stanford. You are nothing like the servants say."

Melior's smile fell.

Miss Wayland's hazel eyes widened. "I did not mean… that is… please forgive me, Lady Stanford. I am not always good with my words."

Giving her arm a light squeeze, Melior tried to exude an air of nonchalance. "It is not your fault. I did start off a bit brusque here and I forget that servants talk about everything."

"Not all servants."

"I know. But a good many do. It is not much different than the matrons in London. They love to talk about anything sensational."

"I will have to take your word on that, for I have never been to London."

By the time they reached Lady Stanford's room, Miss Wayland's eyes were bright with interest at all the things Melior had to tell her of Town. The moment they entered, however, her shoulders sagged. Mrs. Wayland appeared quite poorly.

It was evident after only five minutes that the Waylands would need to leave. The pallor of Mrs. Wayland's complexion made Melior wonder if she would need to employ a footman to carry the lady out. But when it came time, Mrs. Wayland rallied, rising to her feet and wishing Melior a good day.

Turning to Lady Stanford, she said, "Until we meet again, my friend."

"I shall meet you soon, Tabitha. Never you fear."

A shiver ran down Melior's spine. Something told her they were not speaking of merely having tea again, but she tried to push the impression away.

To her surprise, Mrs. Wayland made it all the way to her waiting carriage, but before she entered, another conveyance pulled up. Lord Newhurst disembarked and greeted the women. His brows drew together when he saw Mrs. Wayland and he insisted she allow him to help her up. She gratefully accepted.

When the lady was settled, he turned his compassionate gaze on Miss Wayland. Melior felt like an intruder as the two stared at one another, so she made her way back toward the house, but not before she overheard Lord Newhurst say, "Is it time?"

"The physician believes so."

Melior dropped her head, wishing her impression had not been correct.

She waited in the sitting room for Lord Newhurst, sending word to Nathaniel with a footman to alert him of his friend's arrival. Several moments later, Lord Newhurst entered, his face drawn.

Melior rose. "Is it truly as bad as it seems?"

"What do you know?"

"Only what I can see with my own eyes."

"It is that desperate. I… I do not believe Mrs. Wayland will make it until spring."

Melior's heart ached. She knew what it was like to lose someone most beloved.

"Let us not speak of it, though. I came to you for a happy purpose."

"You did. Have you finished the painting?"

"Not yet, but I thought you might like to have one of the pieces I drew with charcoal."

Until that moment, Melior had not noticed the satchel he had slung over his shoulder, but when he pulled the thick leather pouch in front of him, it was all she could see. The paper he removed was thick and had a slightly bluish hue. He held it out to her.

Reverently she took it, only when she held it in front of her face it was a blur. Tears stung her eyes as she cursed her vision.

"That must be one incredible piece of art to achieve such emotion," Nathaniel said from the door.

She glanced up at him, a tremulous smile on her lips. Perhaps he would be able to appreciate it. "Come see."

He crossed the room to her and took the paper from her hands, silently assessing it. "I can understand your awe." He held it up to his face. "Does it look like me?"

Melior blinked away her tears. Bless Nathaniel for holding up the picture far enough away for her to see. Lord Newhurst had beautifully captured the moment in the music room when she'd first wished to kiss Nathaniel.

"It is splendid," she said.

Nathaniel lowered the drawing. "Yes, you have quite outdone yourself, John. I do not think there is a piece of your work that I like more than this one."

Lord Newhurst smiled. "Even more than my recreation of Michelangelo's paintings?"

"Especially better than Michelangelo's. At least in this one the people are all wearing clothes."

Melior laughed and the other two men grinned.

"I wanted you to have that before you left for London," Lord Newhurst said, when her embarrassed laughter faded.

Nathaniel narrowed his gaze at him. "Are you not to travel with Al?"

"No, I believe I will be needed here in the very near future."

Melior placed her hand on Nathaniel's sleeve when he appeared ready to protest. "Mrs. Wayland came to visit your mother today."

Nathaniel's expression fell and he looked to Newhurst as if for confirmation.

He nodded.

Her husband sighed. "I had hoped she would have more time."

"As did we all, but the mass in her chest is growing rapidly."

Melior now understood the disparity in the woman's appearance and its significance. She'd heard of other ladies dying from growths in their bosoms but this was the first she'd actually met.

"Very well then," Nathaniel said. "Please send word, if… when… well, just send us word."

That night as Melior readied for bed she could not help but think about her mother-in-law's words. She had insisted she would see Mrs. Wayland soon. Did that mean she too expected to go the way of the earth shortly?

Baylor cleaned off the pins and put them in the small clay jar while Melior finished plaiting her hair. The maid had been quiet these last two days, going about her work with an amount of determination. Perhaps when she finished the cleaning Melior would have an opportunity to speak with Nathaniel about his mother's statement. That is, if he'd finished whatever it was he'd wanted to speak with Eddie about.

The two men had left for the study right after dinner and eventually her uncle had followed, leaving her nothing to do but ready for bed.

"Will that be all, my lady?" Baylor asked.

"Yes, thank you."

The maid curtsied and left, but before the door closed someone tapped on it. Melior smiled when her uncle edged it open.

"Might I speak with you?"

"Of course," she said, slipping her arms into her wrapper and stepping out into the hall. "This way."

She led him to the small sitting room where she had taken to storing some of her paintings. Her uncle smiled when he crossed the room to one of the paintings.

"I am happy to see that you are not letting your talent go to waste."

"When have I ever been idle in forwarding my accomplishments?" She smiled.

"Never. I have not met another young woman so determined to master everything she has ever been taught… even if she did not care for it."

Melior's smile slipped from her face. "It was the only way I could be perfect."

"Do you need to be perfect?"

"I thought I did. I hoped if I was good enough that Mother would finally approve of me."

"Approve of you?" He raised one eyebrow.

She slumped into a stuffed leather chair. "I'd hoped that she would love me… like Aunt Lucinda did."

Uncle Percy settled into the chair next to hers and grasped her hand. "I wish you would have had that. If only the Almighty had seen fit to send you to Lucinda and I."

"I would have liked that." She squeezed his hand.

He smiled and gave it a pat. "One thing is for sure, if you had, I would not need to threaten my least favorite sister-in-law in order for you to recover your possessions."

Melior's nose scrunched in confusion.

"Sir Nathaniel mentioned your mother's deceit with the jewelry. To think she'd stoop to using the servants as her thieves."

"They are not the only possessions she chose to take for herself. When I left London she kept back a trunk of my gowns. I suppose they are not truly mine though, since they were purchased by my father."

"Your father? Your father has been living beyond his means for quite some time now. I was the one outfitting you the last three seasons."

Melior was speechless. This whole time she'd assumed her family was solvent and quite deep in the pockets and yet they'd been living on the charity of her uncle. No wonder her parents feared his marriage.

"But my dowry. How has it stayed intact?"

"It was written into the marriage contracts by your mother's father. That and a stipulation that should they produce a second or third son, they would inherit ten thousand pounds from your mother's dowry. It was your grandfather's way of ensuring that your father could not waste away her substantial dowry."

Melior shook her head slowly. "And all this time I worried that Eddie would be penniless."

Uncle Percy smiled. "Even if your grandfather had not made provisions, I would never let that happen. And"— he stood— "I shall not let your mother get away with taking jewelry my Lucinda gave to you. Could you make a list of all the pieces you are missing?"

She rose, pulling her dressing gown tight around her. "I can do one better. Mrs. Thompson turned over every letter my mother wrote her. They list all the items she wished to have returned to her. All were sent except the cameo brooch of Grandmother Melior. That was still in the housekeeper's possession."

Melior excused herself while she retrieved the letters. When she returned, she pointed to the second to the last one. "I had not realized until the letters were given to me that she also had great-grandmother's sapphire jewelry. It was stored in a small drawer under my book box. Mrs. Thompson did not take it, as it had apparently been removed before I left. Mother mentioned needing the ring that goes with the set, but Aunt Lucinda did not give that one to me."

"That is because I have it. Lucinda wore the ring until the day she died." He loosened his cravat and reached into his collar. Carefully he extracted a thin leather strap, the familiar sapphire and diamond ring on it.

The action was so touching that tears brimmed in Melior's eyes. How she wished to have a love as deep and abiding as her uncle's.

He pulled the strap over his head and untied the leather. Melior stared as he slipped the ring off the strap and onto her finger.

"Lucinda would want you to have it." He wrapped both his hands around hers and sighed. "And she would want me to move on."

"I will cherish it."

"I know you will." He kissed her forehead and stepped back. "Now, it is time we both get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and I have a thief to confront."