6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

U ncle Percy motioned for Melior to follow them as he led Sir Nathaniel away from the ballroom about to erupt with gossip the moment the two matrons entered.

Her legs trembled beneath her, the myriad of emotions nearly overcoming her. One moment she'd been planning her marriage to Lord Caraway, the next she'd feared being trapped into one by Mr. Fairchild. Now she would be sacrificed on the altar of propriety to Sir Nathaniel Stanford. She should be upset, but, oddly, it was an immense relief. At least she'd not have to marry a rake or his septuagenarian grandfather, Lord Penbrose.

She stumbled. Lord Penbrose was related to both Lord Caraway and Mr. Fairchild. That meant Lord Caraway was often in company with Mr. Fairchild. Perhaps it was a stroke of luck not to marry Lord Caraway after all, for she never wanted to see Mr. Fairchild again.

Not that she wanted to marry Sir Nathaniel either, but considering the option of social ruin, he was clearly the better choice. That is, if he actually offered.

What if he did not? What if they reached wherever they were going only for him to hand her over to her uncle to suffer the ruin on her own?

Uncle Percy stopped, grabbed a candelabra from a nearby table, and opened a door to their left.

"In here," he directed, holding the door so they might proceed him into the room.

Meekly she followed Sir Nathaniel into the dimly lit area. Books lined one wall and several chairs and sofas sat about the room. A family library perhaps?

She shivered. Careful not to shift Sir Nathaniel's coat off her shoulders, she rubbed her arms until the gooseflesh subsided.

"Who would like to go first?" Uncle Percy asked, settling himself in front of the fire. While there was no flame, the coals still glowed in the grey ash. No wonder it was so cold. She sat on a sofa and Sir Nathaniel took up the spot next to her.

"Your Grace," he said, "I would like to ask your permission to marry Miss Kendall. I will, of course, consult her father as well, but—"

Uncle Percy held up a hand. "No need. I will speak with my brother on your behalf, but I would like to know what facilitated this mishap. I know you both, and you would not be caught in such a situation had something or someone else not been at fault."

Emotion gathered in Melior's throat and a lump formed in her belly. Uncle Percy had not jumped to conclusions, nor had he become angry. He was ever the fair judge, and she did not deserve it. If she'd not been trying to coerce a proposal out of Lord Caraway, she would not have been in the cloakroom.

"It was my fault," she blurted out. "I—"

"She tore her gown, Your Grace."

Melior's gaze shot to Sir Nathaniel and he gave a subtle shake of his head. Why was he trying to stop her from taking the blame?

Uncle Percy folded his arms. "I heard that part of the story from the doorway. What I want to know is how?"

"One of her dance partners was a bit clumsy." The lie slipped so smoothly from Sir Nathaniel's lips that she almost believed it herself. Then again she had danced with Mr. Fairchild twice this season, so perhaps it was not a complete lie.

Her uncle's attention focused on her. "May I see the tear, Melior?"

He wanted her to expose herself? Did he not believe such a tear existed? The thought galvanized her. She slipped her hand under Sir Nathaniel's coat and placed it over the torn fabric to keep it from showing too much skin. Then she peeled back the coat with her other hand.

"That is quite the tear, and in such an odd place. One would expect a tear on your hem or perhaps the bottom of your sleeve, but not at the neckline."

Heat traveled from her cheeks all the way down her neck.

"He—"

Uncle Percy held up his hand to stop Sir Nathaniel's next words. "It might interest you both to know that I passed a very bloody Mr. Fairchild on my way to the cloakroom, so you might as well stop trying to protect my niece, Sir Nathaniel. I can put her tears and his bloody nose together well enough to have a good idea of what really occurred. And I also know the two of you well enough to understand how hard it is going to be to adjust to this marriage… founded upon such a beginning."

The reality of her situation finally settled into Melior's mind. As compassionate as Uncle Percy sounded, he believed a marriage was the only way to avoid social ruin. Her, married to Sir Nathaniel? The man who could hardly look at her without a scowl. How were they ever to get on in life? Could one be grateful and at the same time dread their future? Somehow, she found herself in a mixture of both.

More tears spilled down her cheeks.

Uncle Percy leaned his forearms upon his knees. "I must thank you, Sir Nathaniel. As a firm believer of fidelity in marriage, I would never want my only niece married to a rake such as Mr. Fairchild. She deserves to be loved and cherished as a woman ought to be. You are a man of honor, so I have no doubt you will do your best to hold to your marriage vows and treat my niece with the respect she deserves."

The somber expression Sir Nathaniel wore as he nodded his head looked more like he was being sentenced to his execution than promising to love her. It probably felt like a death sentence to him. She had trapped them both because of her foolishness.

Heat filled her chest. If her mother had not been so insistent, she'd never have been caught in such a situation. She hadn't even wanted to leave the ballroom in the first place. If it had been up to her, she'd simply have invited Lord Caraway to talk behind one of the tall plants or a pillar, but that had not been good enough for her mother. Nothing was ever good enough for her.

Somewhere near her she heard Sir Nathaniel solemnly promise to do his best to provide her with a good life, but she did not look up. There was no point in it. Nothing she did now would make a difference. She was trapped and there would be no getting out of it, unless she wanted to become a social pariah.

At least she would not be forced to marry Mr. Fairchild.

Melior pulled the masculine smelling coat tighter around her to ward off the cold. A hint of sandalwood and cinnamon reached her nose. It calmed her and gave a small amount of comfort. At least Sir Nathaniel smelled good.

Nathaniel had not slept well. He'd not have believed he slept at all if the slam of his bedroom door had not startled him awake the next morning.

"I should call you out, you lout!"

It took a few moments for the words and voice to register. "Eddie? What are you—"

"How dare you take advantage of my sister and our friendship!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You, compromising my sister."

"I did nothing of the sort."

"Oh, so you just happened to accidentally tear her dress in the most indecent way, then hid away in a closet with her." Eddie growled much like a ravenous dog. "Actually I am calling you out. Name your second."

The door banged open again and Al panted in the opening. His gaze shot to Eddie's menacing position over the bed. "Eddie, think first, man."

"Why should I?"

John slid to a stop behind Al. He said nothing, but it was apparent that both men must have been in pursuit of their friend. What exactly had Eddie planned to do?

Al crept forward as if approaching a skittish colt. "Because if you kill him, your sister's position will be worse than before. Plus, it's a deucedly gruesome thing from which I doubt your friendship would ever recover."

Nathaniel stared at Al seriously questioning his sanity. "I would say so. Hard to carry on a friendship when one of us is dead."

Eddie's scowl shifted swiftly into a grin. "That would put a damper on our relationship." He stepped back. "All right, how about I just knock him around a bit and we call it good?"

"That sounds much preferable to being shot at dawn." Nathaniel threw back the cover and shoved his feet into the slippers beside the bed. "But perhaps before you beat my brains out, you would like to get your facts straight?"

"You're saying you were not found alone in a closet with my sister in such a scandalous position that you are now forced to marry her?"

"That is not what I am saying. There are simply other circumstances that led up to us being in said closet, which was actually a cloakroom."

John crossed the room and sat in a chair beside the fire. Al eyed Eddie, then did the same.

"Would you also like to take a seat?" Nathaniel asked.

Eddie crossed his arms. "I will stand, thank you."

"Suit yourself." Nathaniel grabbed a thick wool blanket off his bed and wrapped it about his shoulders. "First, you must all swear to me that what I tell you will go no further than this room."

Eddie looked at him skeptically.

John laced his fingers together in his lap. "You know that I will always keep your confidence, especially when the lady's reputation is at stake."

Nathaniel nodded in understanding. John had always been the most trustworthy with all his secrets. His loyalty and honor ran deep. And while Eddie and Al had been good friends, they were not as circumspect with their words, sometimes inadvertently sharing confidences they ought not.

"You know I will not share anything that could possibly do damage to my sister, but right now I do not believe there is anything you might say that can damage her reputation more than you have."

"Perhaps not her reputation, but it could affect her wellbeing."

Eddie opened his mouth, his expression one of a man ready to argue the logic, but Al shifted in his seat, pinning him with a glare. "I think you need to elaborate before Eddie returns to his aforementioned mindless anger. I do not want to chase him down again in order to keep him from disconnecting your soul from your body."

"You did not have to follow me in the first place. I am a grown man and have no need of a nursemaid such as yourself."

"I beg to differ." Al leaned back into the leather seat. "A rooster who crows at midnight has more sense than you did when you entered this room."

"Thanks for your vote of confidence."

"Anytime, my friend."

Nathaniel sat on the window seat. "Are you both finished picking at one another?"

"No," they both said in unison.

"But please proceed while I have the upper hand," Al said.

"Yes, it will simply give me time to come up with an equally stinging insult for Algenon ," Eddie grumbled.

"Using my full name is insulting enough."

"Not for this."

"Ladies, ladies, your bonnets are both beautiful, so let's stop bickering over whose plumage deserves more admiration."

They all turned to John, dumbfounded by the witty remark. Nathaniel snickered and before he knew it the whole room was filled with laughter.

It took a few moments for them all to get control, but when the room quieted Nathaniel rose from his seat and approached the fire. With the flames as his backdrop, he told them of Mr. Fairchild's deceit. If he had thought Eddie angry before, it was nothing compared to the pure hatred that now filled his eyes. Al jumped from his seat and grabbed the smaller man about the waist before he could leave Nathaniel's room.

"Eddie, stop. Storming through London to exact your revenge on Mr. Fairchild will do no good. In truth, it will likely harm everyone involved."

"The man tried to force himself upon my sister!" Eddie strained at Al's hold and John stepped in front of the door to block his way should he break free.

"But he did not, thanks to Nathaniel."

Eddie stilled, his gaze shifting. His shoulders dropped and Al let him out of his hold. He took a deep breath, straightened his back, then came to stand in front of Nathaniel.

"I owe you an apology." They stared at one another. "And my thanks. You rescued my sister from an unthinkable future. As much as I would like to think my uncle could have saved her from being coerced into a marriage with a man who had abused her, I know how hard it would have been to prove she was not a party to his advances." Eddie stuck out his hand.

Nathaniel grasped it. "Had my sister still been alive, you would have done the same."

Eddie hung his head. "I am not so sure."

With his other hand, Nathaniel patted him on the back. "You would have. However, let us hope that none of the rest of you ever get caught in such a precarious position as I now find myself."

"Here, here," Al said. "I have great hopes that Nate here used up all our bad luck and we shall all go on to find much more agreeable matches."

"Are you saying my sister is not agreeable?"

Al held up his hands. "Do not revert back to an angry chicken on me. It was simply an observation of the state of things between Nate and your sister. If you have not noticed, they are not on the friendliest of terms. Which is exactly why I suggested you take some time to think over your madcap advances on Nate. Melior would be more likely to spit in his drink than to agree to a clandestine meeting."

And that was the crux of the problem. Nathaniel sighed. What kind of sweet torture had he resigned himself to? He would be tied to the woman of his dreams forever, and she despised him.

"What I cannot decipher," John said, "is why your sister was in the cloakroom in the first place?"

Eddie blinked at him. Nathaniel had wondered the same thing. It was evident when he'd come upon her and Mr. Fairchild that she'd not been at all willing to receive his attention, so why be sequestered with the man?

"Perhaps she lost her way to the ladies' retiring room," Al suggested.

Eddie snorted. "Hardly. Her sense of direction is impeccable and she has been to the Durhams on several occasions. She would not have lost her way so easily."

"Is it possible that she may have been searching for something among her things?"

A shake of Eddie's head dismissed the question. "She'd have had a footman fetch it for her."

Something pulled at Nathaniel's mind, but it was too unthinkable to be mentioned. He needed to shift his friend's attention away from Melior before they stumbled upon the same idea he had. "It is of little importance. What's done is done."

"Your calm resignation to your fate does you credit, Nate." Eddie's intent gaze was disconcerting. "I would have thought you would be at least a little more distraught at the situation."

John knowingly smiled behind Eddie. Nathaniel frowned. "I have had a whole night to get used to the idea. Why do you think I was still abed? I am unsure if I slept much more than one hour altogether."

Al stepped up beside John near the door. "Then we should leave you to rest. No need to have an overtired groom."

"I still have three weeks to rest."

"Then you have not heard?"

Nathaniel glanced between each of the men.

Eddie placed a hand on his shoulder. "Uncle Percy has obtained a special license. You will wed on Wednesday next."