36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

M elior's words rang in Nathaniel's ears.

She had trapped him. Not Mr. Fairchild. Not the nosy ladies of the Ton. Melior had.

He had suspected she was not innocent in all of this, but he'd not known how deep her deceit ran. Then her next words hit him square in the chest.

" But Edith, I am grateful for my failure. I have learned much, and by some miracle it has brought me the greatest happiness I have ever experienced."

Greatest happiness? He had been her greatest happiness.

"I am happy in my marriage."

The words cleared his mind and he finally acknowledged the other truths she'd spoken. Her mother had pressured her to commit the act. Of course the horrible woman would. Melior may not have protested as much as he would have liked, but he could not blame her for all that had transpired.

There had been so many culprits in a mistake that he really did not regret. She was his perfect match. With her, he'd become better. His body pulsed with a new energy.

Melior had altered his life for the better, much as her name suggested.

The duke grabbed his arm, shaking him out of his reverie. "Go stand guard in front of the other door in case Lady Edith bolts."

Nathaniel wanted to stay, to hear what was happening, but he saw reason in the duke's request. He quietly left, being careful not to allow the door to bang on his way out.

Javenia was in the hall, her ear to the billiard room door.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Listening. You do not think I am going to let you gentlemen have all the fun, do you?"

He frowned but did not stop her. Suddenly things quieted in the adjoining room, and Nathaniel was forced to employ the same methods as Javenia.

With an ear pressed to the door, he heard Lord Caraway's accusation followed by Lady Edith's screaming insults at Melior. His gut twisted and he reached for the door handle. No one spoke to his wife that way.

Javenia grabbed his hand. "Not yet. The others will take care of anything happening inside. We need to guard the door."

"But Melior—"

"Is safe. No one will let anything happen to her. But if you open that door you will provide an easy escape for Lady Edith."

The next moment things went silent. It was almost as jarring as Lady Edith's screams.

Was it over? Did they go in now?

No one had come out, but no one had given the all-clear either.

Nathaniel's heart beat so hard it ached. He wanted to check on his wife, to make certain she was all right, to tell her it did not matter, that he loved her and to rejoice in the future they would have.

The door swung open and Al came out carrying an unconscious form with dark hair.

Nathaniel froze, a lump in his throat as Al rushed down the hall, the Duke of Bedford on his heels, Eddie right behind.

Melior!

Without thought he rushed after them.

Lord Caraway stood in the empty room staring at her. Melior waited, knowing whatever he had to say was completely deserved.

"I suppose I must thank you."

Her head shot up. "No. No, you must not. I have brought you nothing but misery."

"And freedom."

She stared.

"You are not the first woman whose mother tried to convince her to corner me, and I am sure you will not be the last. But you are the first to save me, and for that I am exceedingly grateful."

Melior nodded, the compliment hollow in her chest as she considered her own downfall in front of the man she loved. Her shoulders slumped. Nathaniel may never forgive her.

"Are you well, Lady Stanford?" Lord Caraway asked.

"I am, but I find I am too fatigued to continue at the ball. Please forgive me, but I must bid you farewell."

Arms wrapped about her midsection, she rushed from the room.

"Melior," Javenia called out.

She did not stop.

Javenia caught up and grabbing her arm, pulled her to a stop. "Where are you going?"

"Home. I need to go home." Tears pricked her eyes. She needed to get away from here, away from the knowledge of what her words had done.

"Please wait, you do not—"

Melior shook her hand off, and grabbing fists full of her skirts, ran.

To her relief, there were several hacks parked outside. She found the first one, gave the driver instructions, and climbed in. Halfway down the street, she realized her mistake. She'd given directions to Kendall House.

The tears she'd held at bay began to trickle down her cheeks. She could not go there. She was not welcome.

With a lump in her throat, she called new directions to the driver. He appeared confused but turned the horses toward Broad Street. For better or for worse she'd have to go back to Nathaniel's townhouse.

She did not speak to an astonished Herbertson when she burst through the door, nor was there any cloak or pelisse to give him.

Back in the room she'd shared with Nathaniel, she glanced about trying to find something to anchor her sea-tossed heart. Fear shivered up her spine at the realization that she might lose everything that had grown so dear to her.

Divorce rarely happened, but it was still a possibility. Actually with how short of a time that had elapsed, an annulment would be easy to acquire, especially since the marriage had never been consummated. Nathaniel would be well within his rights to request one.

Melior crossed to her reading box on the side table, seeking solace within its depths. But when she opened it, a familiar paper lay on top. Extracting the charcoal sketch, she tried to make out Nathaniel's cherished features, searching for some relief from the pain that threatened to tear her apart from the inside.

Between her tears and poor vision the picture was blurry, but she'd looked at the image so much she'd committed it to memory. The tilt of his right eyebrow as he'd gazed at her, the intensity of his marvelous eyes mirroring the passion she'd felt in his kisses.

She pondered on the hand that held her face in the picture. The same hand that cared for an ailing mother and stopped servants in their verbal tirades. They were the same hands that had so tenderly cared for her burn and held her when she cried the night she realized she'd been betrayed by all the women who should have been her closest confidants.

Melior did not know if he could ever come to love her again, but she would keep his love in this picture, saving this memory for herself, allowing it to hold her even when Nathaniel could or would not.

Setting the picture on her bed, she reached into the box for her spectacles, desperate to see his face more fully.

They were gone.

She lifted the book of Belinda and felt around beneath wondering if she'd accidentally placed them under it, but no metal frames resided there.

She sucked in her breath. Where had they gone?

Frantically she searched the room, opening drawers and cabinets, but they were nowhere to be found.

Dejected, she threw herself on the bed. There would be no peace in her sketch, no relief in the pages of her beloved books, no comfort for her beleaguered soul. The sobs she'd been holding back all day broke free and she cried.

Nathaniel tossed his coat to Herbertson the moment he entered the townhouse. "Is she here?"

"Is who here, sir?"

"My wife, who else?" he snapped.

The stodgy man did not even flinch. "I believe she has already retired for the night."

Snatching the hat from his head, Nathaniel tossed it at the man, then took the stairs two at a time. He'd wasted too much time searching for Melior after he'd realized the woman in Al's arms was Lady Edith. However, the relief at knowing he'd finally found her was short lived as he approached their room.

Melior's quiet sobs twisted the dagger in his heart. No doubt she thought he'd given up on her. That he'd thrown her aside the moment he'd heard her confession. All the pieces fell together in his mind.

Her distress when Al and Javenia had suggested Lord Caraway would want to get rid of her. Her fear before the ball. Her silence last evening when he'd told her all of this was not her fault.

She must have been racked with guilt.

And then there was her admission about being worried he'd throw her out like her parents had.

But he was not the man she'd thought him to be, and she was not the woman he'd thought she'd become. There was hope. Slowly he turned the handle to the door.

Melior, still dressed in her evening gown, lay curled in a ball, hands over her face. Her shoulders shook with each breath as she cried.

Everything in him screamed to go and comfort her, so he rushed to the bed and dropped down on his knees. Gently he brushed her hair away from her cheek.

Her swollen eyes blinked open and she pulled away.

"Who's there?"

He pulled back in surprise, then remembered at this distance and with the light so low, she probably could not discern his features.

"It's me, Mel," he said softly.

"Nathaniel." Her voice cracked on his name and she choked on a sob.

Carefully he climbed on the bed, and leaning up against the headboard, gathered her to him.

"I… I thought you…"

"But I did not, Melior. I am here."

She cried against his chest, and he held her. He held her through the pain of betrayal and abandonment, through the ache of knowing her friend and possibly her mother had never wanted her, through the frustration she must have felt at being forced to be anyone but herself for years.

But mostly he held her because she needed him to. The fire in the hearth sputtered and dimmed as it ran out of fuel, leaving only the candle Melior had lit on the bedside table. Gradually her tears slowed and the room grew silent.

"Why?"

Her question surprised him. "Why what?"

"Why would you come back after all I have done?"

Several strands of Melior's hair had come free of its pins. Slowly, Nathaniel probed her head, removing the rest to allow her dark tresses to fall down around her shoulders.

"Because, my love, I made a promise. And as a man of my word, I intend to stay with you for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health. But most of all I intend to cherish you for the wonderful woman that you are."

"But—"

He placed a finger over her mouth. "There are no buts. We all make mistakes"—his lips quirked— "yours just happens to be my favorite."

She snorted. "How can a mistake be anyone's favorite?"

His voice grew very quiet. "Because it brought me you."

She sat up to look at him, her lips trembling with a smile. "I think it is my favorite mistake too."

Heaven help him, she was so beautiful.

The candlelight flickered off the brilliant blue of her eyes as she stared intently at him. "I love you, Nathaniel."

His pulse leaped into his ears and he leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers. Lifting a hand, he cradled her cheek.

"And I love you, Melior. I think I always have. You make my life infinitely better, and I cannot imagine a day without you in it."

Her hands slipped around his neck and she closed the distance between them, sealing her lips to his and his heart to hers… forever.