32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

N athaniel watched from a distance as Lady Jane moved from Melior to her father. He'd followed Melior out when she'd chased after Lady Jane and watched as she'd sunk to the ground to comfort the woman. As with Lady Agatha, he'd chosen to stay out of sight, allowing Melior to make the peace she so obviously needed.

His heart thrummed within him. She'd been so kind, but even more, she'd been humble in admitting her faults and asking for forgiveness. He'd seen so much growth these last few weeks that he wondered how he had ever thought himself unfortunate.

If anything, it was Melior's misfortune for marrying him. He took far longer to recognize his faults and move toward change.

The Duke of Rothland passed him, his arm protectively around his daughter. Melior stared after the pair. Her expression of sadness pulled him toward her.

"Are you well?" he asked, draping the cloak he had retrieved from the butler around her shoulders.

"I am, but Lady Jane is likely to suffer from this night for the rest of her life."

"I doubt that. Rumors will die, especially ones as far-fetched as this one."

"Nathaniel"—she placed a hand on his arms and stared into his eyes—"It is true. I suspect that is why the duke has been so particular about his servants."

He blinked at her, trying to comprehend what she said. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Lady Jane admitted it herself. She is not the duke's daughter."

"Not his… but how could that be? Even my mother remembers when she was born here in London. The duke himself bandied it about the Ton."

Melior's cheeks flushed brighter. "Just because the Duke of Rothland was there at her birth does not mean he was there for her conception."

He contemplated her words, knowing they were true. His respect for the duke grew. That the man had kept the secret was no surprise, as no one wanted to be connected to scandal, but that he had taken such great care of a daughter not of his blood, well, that was something not many men of England did.

Javenia exited the house, Al close on her heels. "That is a hornet's nest I do not think I want to chance going back into," she said when she came to a stop.

"What has happened?" Melior rubbed her own arms and Nathaniel realized she must be freezing. The rain had increased from a mist to a steady drizzle. No doubt her beautiful dress was soaked.

"Perhaps we can speak of it in the carriage." He motioned them to the waiting line of vehicles.

Melior took a step then stopped. "But what of our plans?"

Javenia latched onto her arm. "It will have to wait. His Grace's sons are beyond furious and questioning everyone who will talk. It seems this rumor has been whispered of for a few days, but no one had dared utter it in polite company. If we are lucky, perhaps they will take care of Lady Edith for us."

Nathaniel opened the door to his carriage. "That would be nice, but if she is as wily as I suspect, she will find some way to get out of it."

He handed Melior up, but she stopped on the step, her face turned to the house. "It seems she already has."

They all turned to see Lady Edith descending the steps on Lord Caraway's arm, her father following meekly behind.

"Get in," Nathaniel said, then spun to confront the approaching pair.

Al put his arm out and caught him around the shoulders. "Not with Caraway already with her. She will admit nothing and you will look like the cad for accusing a lady of wrongdoing. Let it go for tonight. There is always tomorrow."

"But that is Bedford's ball," he hissed.

Al smiled. "Yes, and what perfect karma for our unsuspecting criminal."

The idea slowly caught hold in his mind. Al was right. What had started at a ball should end at one.

Watching Melior brush out her long dark hair by firelight was enchanting. Nathaniel tried to pretend he was not looking, hiding his face behind a book, but by the pink in her cheeks he knew he was failing.

She'd readied for bed after they returned, but her hair still needed to dry before sleeping, so she'd dismissed the housemaid and set to brushing it herself.

"You know," she said, "it is awfully hard to read a book when it is upside down."

His head whipped back to the pages of his book and he realized it was indeed the wrong direction.

"I thought you said you could not see well."

"Up close, yes, but you are not that near."

"Next time I shall have to sit on your lap so it will be indiscernible," he grumbled.

She chuckled. "Yes, but that would hamper your view."

Dash it all, she had noticed. "Can I help it if you have the most beautiful hair in all of England?"

She ducked her head. "Thank you. I believe it is almost dry."

Setting down the brush, she began plaiting. He wanted to protest, wishing she'd leave it free, but it was late and they needed to sleep.

He set his book down and stood, meaning to retrieve his nightshirt, but the tremble in Melior's hand as she came to the end of her hair caught his attention.

"Are you still cold?"

"No."

"But you are shaking."

She fumbled with the ribbon she used to tie her hair. "I am fine."

He kneeled before her and placed a hand over hers. "Allow me." He removed the blue linen from her grasp and tied it around the end of her hair. When he glanced up there were tears in her eyes.

"Mel, what is the matter?"

She shook her head and a tear escaped. He stood and slipping his arms around her, lifted her into his lap as he sat. Her shoulders vibrated under his touch as she tried to contain her sobs.

"You can tell me, Melior."

"It is just…" she sucked in a breath and let out a mewing sound.

He began rocking her gently. "Tonight was trying. There is no shame in being overwhelmed by it all."

"I could have been friends with Lady Jane," she sobbed. "If my mother had not indoctrinated me to look down upon others, to see any lady of equal standing and beauty as competition, perhaps I would have had more true friends. Instead, I got Edith."

Melior's tears cut off her words. Having removed his coat when he'd entered the room, Nathaniel had no handkerchief to hand her. So, keeping one arm behind her back, he untied his cravat and dabbed her face. Then he tucked it into her curled hand. She grasped it fiercely. He wrapped his other arm around her and held her close.

"How could she be so heartless?" she choked out.

"Edith or your mother?"

"Both."

He began rocking her again, not sure how to answer. How could women who claimed such close association to Melior, who should have loved her, treat her so abominably?

"If it were not… for my mother…" Melior turned her face into his chest, flinging her arms about his neck. She sobbed something unintelligible and his heart ached for her.

After rubbing her back a moment, he decided it would be best if she were in bed. Tears like this could wear a body out faster than a three-legged race. Plus, if she gave herself a headache again she'd be more comfortable lying on her pillow.

He slipped his other arm under her knees and stood. Thankfully the maid had already turned back the covers or it would have been quite an awkward ordeal getting Melior into bed. But when he laid her down, she clung to his neck.

"Don't… leave."

"I am not going anywhere, Mel. Let me cover you with the blanket and take off my boots."

She released him, and he pulled the thick blankets over her. After removing his boots, he did not bother finding a nightshirt, choosing instead to undo the top button of his shirt and crawl in beside her.

Melior curled into him, and for the first time he allowed himself to hold her, reasoning that the situation was different and she had turned to him first. Unlike the racking sobs from earlier, she now wept quietly.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

"Do not apologize. You have been through so much hurt of late, and none of it is your fault."

She flinched and he wondered if the gentle circles he'd been tracing on her back might have irritated her in some way. Thankfully though, her crying seemed to have ceased.

She lay quietly for a moment and he leaned back to look at her. Melior's eyes were closed, her cheek resting on his arm, but she was not sleeping. Instead her face contorted in pain.

"Has your headache returned?"

She began to shake her head, then nodded. Sitting up, she used his crushed cravat to blow her nose. When she finished, she set it on the bedside table and laid down, facing away from him.

He wanted to reach out and hold her again, but he'd made a promise not to touch her without her permission. So instead he rose and blew out the candles.

Once back in bed, he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.

Watching Melior had twisted his gut and pulled at his heart much the same way he'd suffered watching his mother after his father and Mary died in the influenza epidemic. Both had borne disappointments in life that were unfair and unfortunately completely out of his control. It made a man feel helpless. But at least in Melior's case he could do something.

From now on he would protect her from her wretch of a mother and the friend that seemed determined to destroy anyone who got in the way of her matrimonial schemes.

"Nathaniel," Melior whispered.

"Yes?"

"Will you hold me until I fall asleep?"

He rolled to his side and pulled her close. "Most definitely, love."