29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

N athaniel blew out a breath the moment Melior rose and slipped into her dressing gown. Saved by a rumbly stomach. He fumbled at the end of the bed for his robe, grateful for the clearer head her distance gave him. He was a man of honor and he would keep his promise but blast it if she was not testing him to his very limits.

He lit a candle and they made their way to the kitchen, pilfering a pie that was probably meant for tomorrow. Plates in hand, they sat at the servant's table to eat it. Melior slipped several forkfuls into her mouth quickly and he watched her, thankful that her appetite seemed to be improving.

She locked eyes with him and ducked her head, chewed rapidly, and swallowed. "I am sorry. I did not realize how hungry I was."

"Do not apologize. It is good to see you eat. I had not realized until your uncle came to visit how much you picked at your food."

"It's a terrible habit, but when I am nervous or upset, my appetite flees like a rabbit before wolves."

"Does that mean you are not distressed now?"

She stopped chewing and tipped her head to the side. With her dark brown plait over her shoulder and eyes scrunched in thought, he could not help but think how lovely she was even when dressed in simple night attire.

Reaching for the cup of buttermilk he had placed by her plate, she took a long drink to wash down her food. "I am still upset about the situation with Edith, but at least I am not as concerned that you will throw me out on my ear."

His head jerked back. "You thought I would toss you out?"

"My parents did."

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, her matter-of-fact statement pinching his heart. "What in my behavior made you think I am anything like your parents?"

"Nothing"— she glanced down at her hands— "and everything. You were so cold the day we married. Your words in the carriage felt like a warning. Almost like if I did not measure up to expectations you would…"

"I would what?"

"I do not know. I can see now my thoughts were a bit overdramatic. Edith always said I had a propensity to think the world was ending at the smallest slight."

She sighed and put down her fork. He had not meant to chase away her hunger. "Please eat, I did not mean to upset you."

"You have not. I misjudged you. I misjudged a lot of people it would seem. Agatha and Edith were my dearest friends and yet when everything happened they deserted me, and now I find that they may have been the problem all along. Our whole friendship seems so contrived."

"I would not assign guilt to Lady Agatha just yet."

"Why not?"

"She asked to meet with you. Insisted that she had something to say."

"Ha, probably to rub what she deems as misfortune in my face."

"I do not believe so. She gave me that message under her breath to make certain her mother did not catch us speaking. Why would she risk so much only to hurt you? Besides, from the little I know of her, I cannot see that lady being so callous."

Melior rubbed her forehead. "You are right. Cruelty would be out of character for Agatha, but I do not know what to believe anymore. I used to pride myself in my ability to read others' intentions, but now… well, I was deceived."

"As we all can be, even in our own judgement. I saw your pride and assumed it ran all the way to your heart."

The corner of her lips tipped up. "Well, that is a relief."

He nearly spit out the sip of buttermilk he'd taken. "That I thought you prideful?"

"No, that you actually believed I had a heart." She snickered at his dumbfounded expression. "Sometimes you were so cold to me that I wondered what had happened to the jolly young man who used to come for visits. But then, I assumed like all of us, the weight of grown-up responsibilities had changed you, made you harder as it does to many men. After a while though, your chilly receptions led me to think you despised me. So I chose to dislike you in return."

"I did not despise you." He set his cup down and stared at the rough wooden table. His heart pleaded with him to tell her the truth, but his head reminded him to be cautious. While their relationship had grown over the last week, he was not sure she could handle a confession of long-held affection. Then a thought struck him.

If he told her how long he'd pined for her love, would she think he had something to do with Mr. Fairchild's presence in the room? Would it appear like he'd paid the man to open a way for them to marry? He'd admitted to seeing Edith in the hall. Even though he'd done nothing wrong, it could appear like they were conspiring. He bit his tongue around the confession he'd been about to make.

"Perhaps despise was too strong of a word." Melior pushed the handle of her fork around in a circle with her finger. "But you did not have high regard for me, either that or you simply succumbed to the same affliction that John suffers."

"John?"

"My apologies, Lord Newhurst. Ever since Al gave me permission to call him by his given name I have taken the liberty to extend it to Lord Newhurst as well."

"That is not what confuses me. What affliction does John suffer?"

"Fear of ladies."

A laugh burst from him. "I am not afraid of you, Melior."

"Well, you should be. I can be mighty fierce when I choose to be. And the brawn I sport is incredibly impressive." She pretended to flex her slender arm. Her grin was contagious and he chuckled, grateful for the break in tension.

"Yes, I can see that you must spend hours honing your form with fencing and fighting."

She laughed and reached for her fork. "Just you wait, Gentleman Jack himself might one day pound on our door, begging me to join his club."

When their laughter died down they ate in a comfortable silence for a while. Nathaniel thought's ambled as fatigue overtook him.

"I was prideful, you know."

Her admission chased away his sleepy thoughts.

"I let my mother's words fill my head and my heart. I was convinced I deserved better, more than any other lady. It may not have been in the forefront of my mind, but it drove my actions to be self-centered." She tapped the tines of her fork on the table a few times. "It is no surprise that you would want to keep your distance from me—why anyone would want to create distance."

He stilled her fidgeting hand with his own. She released her fork and wrapped her fingers around his, but she did not look up.

"Looking back, I was only focused on my goals and prospects. My narrow view probably blocked out what was happening around me, how much I upset others."

Nathaniel squeezed her delicate fingers. "That does not justify what happened."

"I know, but I can understand why it did. I made enemies of everyone, even my friends, and I did not even realize it." She let go of his fingers and laid her hand flat on the table. He laid his hand over the top of hers to provide whatever support she needed as she made peace with herself.

It could be a bitter pill to swallow. He should know; he'd had to face up to his own prejudice where Melior was concerned. He'd not even allowed there to be any other reason for her behavior other than purely bad character. How wrong he had been?

That she had turned out as good and kind as she had under such a mother's tutelage was miraculous. Some of that levelheaded nature could likely be attributed to her aunt and uncle, but she had to have her own fortitude to face her mother's self-aggrandizing ideals and still see through them.

"We all do things we are not proud of, Melior. We could both wallow in the pain of our insufficiencies, but that helps no one. It is what we do with our lives going forward that is most important."

She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. He wanted to gather her in his arms but she suddenly stood, letting go of his hand. "I am finished." She dusted the crumbs from her lap, and, picking up her plate and cup, set in on the cook's counter.

He sighed. Again she had not finished a meal. He'd not meant to upset her, and for the life of him he could not understand how he'd done so, but perhaps she was simply tired, or her headache had returned.

After clearing his own dishes, he grabbed the candle and followed her back to their room. Her silence unnerved him. He'd yet to tell her about the confrontation with her mother, but it was late and they both needed sleep. In the morning, he promised himself. He would tell her in the morning.