8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nathaniel paced from one end of the parlor to the other. He had not gone about this at all as he ought.

It had taken three days to wrap his mind around what had happened, and still he could not fathom his good fortune… and bad luck. Tomorrow he would marry the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on—one who hated him.

Perhaps hate was not the exact emotion, but it was far from the loving marriage he had envisioned for himself. She had not once spoken to him the last few days, even though he'd been to the house twice.

Of course he'd also not seen her on those visits. An oddity, really, for she always had visiting hours on Monday and Tuesday mornings. Yet she'd not been in her usual chair in the parlor, so he'd spoken with her father about the marriage contracts and mostly avoided making eye contact with her mother. Every time he glanced her way, the woman looked as if she'd like to murder him right on the spot.

Lady Kendall would probably never forgive him for saving her daughter. Then again, she'd only heard the half true story of the torn dress that Melior's uncle had agreed should be put forward to the family. Most likely the woman considered him the crux of the problem.

Thanks to Eddie's ingenuity, they'd been able to avoid Lady Kendall most of the time he'd spent at the house.

The parlor door opened and he spun to greet Melior.

Eddie stepped in, his blue eyes near mirrors of Melior's. It was odd how many similarities the siblings had and yet he'd never once thought Eddie the least bit attractive. Then again, he had little experience judging male appeal.

His friend received plenty of feminine attention, however, so he must be pleasantly put together. And by extension he himself must be somewhat attractive, since they both shared similar athletic frames with broad shoulders from their hours of fencing. However, that was as far as their similarities extended.

Where Eddie's hair was dark, Nathaniel's was chocolatey in color. Their eye shade was completely different, and Eddie's narrower jaw made him appear more youthful.

Eddie cleared his throat. "My sister will be down soon. She needs to finish up some packing."

A sudden insecurity over his own looks made Eddie's words seem like a direct indication of his own lack. "Cannot a maid do that?"

"I am sure one could, but Mel has found it the perfect excuse not to speak to anyone."

So she was pouting. Gone were his insecurities as irritation flooded to replace it. He should have known. A pampered, self-absorbed woman like her probably did not feel gratitude as she ought for being saved from utter ruin. The knowledge tipped the scales. Marriage to Melior was definitely God's curse. Most likely left over retribution for not returning home from the continent when his mother sent word of his father and sister's illness.

Eddie sat in one of the large wingback chairs. "I told her if she's not down in ten minutes I would send you up after her."

"You what?"

"Oh, do not look so panicked. You are going to be married to her after all. It is not like it would be improper."

"Might I remind you that we are not yet married. That makes it highly improper. We do not need any more rumors milling about Town."

"I am not sure it could make things any worse. My mother's fits of temper have been so loud people can hear them in the streets. Mel tried to stand up for herself that first night, but it was useless. Mother seems to think she did this out of spite to ruin us all."

"You cannot be serious."

"I am. I think my uncle's upcoming marriage has finally sent Mother to bedlam. She was so set on us all having titles—"

"Melior will have a title, although not the one she expected."

"I know that, but you know my parents. They are like horses with blinders. They only see things above them."

That was an apt metaphor. Nathaniel rubbed his hands against his trouser legs. Lord and Lady Kendall had never been welcoming to any of Eddie's Harrow friends. John seemed the least distasteful to them as he held the highest title, but none of them could boast any relations higher than an earl.

Nathaniel took up his pacing again about the room. "How is Melior taking all of this?"

"Why not ask her yourself?" a feminine voice said from the door.

Heat crept up his neck when he turned to see Melior herself, her dark hair only half up and the rest hanging in waves down her back. He'd not seen so much of her hair since she'd begun pinning it up at sixteen. It was now well past her waist.

"Well, I shall leave you two to talk." Then under his breath, Eddie muttered, "It is about time."

Tension filled the air when the door shut. There were so many things to say, but none of them came to mind as he took in Melior's appearance.

There were dark circles under her eyes as if she'd not slept well and the dress she wore looked as if it had seen better days. She slowly crossed to the settee and sat daintily on the edge, but her posture was not as perfect as was her habit. Regret pulled at him. She seemed to be taking this far worse than he'd initially thought.

Had he made the right choice to offer for her? Perhaps Lord Caraway could have been persuaded to step in and save her. The two seemed to have a tendre for one another—or at least Melior seemed to like him a great deal.

Would Lord Caraway have been a better option, or an option at all? What if he and Melior could never make this marriage work? Would she run to Lord Caraway?

"I…" He cleared his throat. "I came for your at-home yesterday, but only your mother was in the parlor."

"Yes, well there is no point in being at home to visitors when no one will be coming to see me."

"I am no one?" He frowned.

"That is not what I meant, Sir Nathaniel. I only meant to say that since the scandal none of my friends will have anything to do with me… or their mothers forbid them from visiting. Doubtless too afraid I will have a bad influence on their daughters."

She exhaled and with it her posture deflated.

He'd not even thought of that. How callous of him. Here he'd been assuming she was pouting or avoiding him, only to realize she had not expected to see anyone… not even him.

Had she really so little opinion of him? He'd kept his distance from her these last few years, but now, with their upcoming nuptials, she should have at least anticipated speaking with him once before their marriage. There were many things that needed to be discussed.

Then again, he'd not gone out of his way to make certain such a discussion happened, mostly because he was a coward. Not that he feared Melior. She was not prone to fits of rage like her mother. But with their change in circumstances her opinion had suddenly begun to matter.

He'd avoided pondering on her view of him in the past, but now it was more important than ever. Did she have any gentle feelings toward him, or was he only an annoyance to her? Could she ever come to care for him, to build a life with him, share a bed with him? He swallowed hard. The thought pushed him back into motion.

When he reached the window he stopped and stared at the people making their way along the busy street outside.

"I am making the best of the situation," Melior said from behind him.

He turned, his forehead scrunching in confusion.

"You asked how I was holding up. I suppose you were asking Eddie, but I am answering."

She returned to a more proper posture, her attention on the chair across from her. He understood the hint and crossed to sit with her.

"I am glad of it." He threaded his fingers together to keep his hands from fidgeting. "I am sorry I did not send for you sooner. As we are to be married tomorrow, I felt there were things to be discussed."

She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at him but remained silent. That one expression carried with it a world of meaning. She might as well have given him an entire lecture. One that called into question the amount of time that had elapsed from the day of the scandal until today. There was also hurt behind the look.

"Melior… may I call you Melior?"

She let out a slow breath. "I suppose you can call me whatever you wish."

Her lack of enthusiasm stung. "And you must call me Nathaniel, or Nate. Whichever you prefer."

"Nathaniel will do fine."

He nodded and glanced down at his hands. "I know this is not what either of us expected or wanted. It will be a hard adjustment. I had not expected to take a wife for some time yet, so my home is not prepared, but you are welcome to change whatever you would like in order to suit your needs. I only ask that you consult with my mother about the drawing room and west parlor. Those rooms have been her particular favorites. And of course she will have control over her set of rooms."

Melior stared straight ahead, her face devoid of emotion. He waited in case she had any questions, but when she did not move he went on.

"I think you will like Havencrest. There is a large orchard with apples and plums, and the River Medway borders the estate on the southern end. There are a few walnut trees near the house as well. I know it is mostly dead right now but in another month or so the colors will be quite stunning, if I do say so myself."

He knew he was rambling, but nothing seemed to catch Melior's attention. Her distraction was disheartening. Her body might be in the room with him, but her mind was miles away.

Even after he'd grown silent, she still stared past him. He glanced over his shoulder to where her eyes seemed to be focused. Through the gossamer curtains was the bustling street of Mayfair, and then his gaze landed on what held her captive. There, across the road, was Lord Caraway and another man speaking with two young women.

His already sinking hopes plummeted farther. Compared to Lord Caraway he was nothing. The suspicion that had formed when he met with his friends the day after the ball now blossomed into a fully formed theory. Melior would not have been in that cloakroom unless someone she admired had invited her there. Had she meant to meet Lord Caraway in the secluded place and Mr. Fairchild simply took advantage of an opportune situation?

A cheerful, unaffected smile bloomed on Lord Caraway's face as he talked animatedly with the two women who stood with their backs toward Nathaniel. The man did not seem distressed at all. Nathaniel would have expected him to be crushed at the knowledge that Melior would wed another. And yet Lord Caraway made no move toward the house.

The next thought made him grit his teeth. What if Lord Caraway had set Melior up? Had he noticed her regard and not returned it? Had he sent Mr. Fairchild to clear the way? The man was a relative of his in some way.

He turned in time to see Melior whisk a tear away with a handkerchief. She quickly tucked the linen in her long sleeve and adjusted her position on the settee.

"My apologies, Nathaniel. I am afraid I was woolgathering. Please continue."

His heart should delight in her use of his name without his title, but something cold settled into its recesses. He'd never be able to gain Melior's love if she'd already given it to someone else. And what if that someone was a bounder?

He inhaled through his nose. "Your parents have suggested that we leave for Maidstone directly after the service so you can be settled by dinner."

Her eyes widened, then flashed with frustration. "So I am not to have a wedding breakfast, no celebration. I should have expected as much." She rose to her feet, brushing her lavender skirt straight. "If you will excuse me, Sir Nathaniel, I do not believe there are any decisions you need me for, and I must pack."

She gave a tiny curtsy. He opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. Let her be miffed about not having a party. He had done everything in his power to make the day as stress free as possible, but it seemed Melior's only concern was her lost opportunity to be the center of attention.

The small amount of sympathy he'd gathered for her fled as she exited the room, leaving only emptiness. He should walk away now while he still could. He'd recover from the scandal, and perhaps, in time, so would Melior. Her uncle's standing in Society would certainly cover the stain eventually, right?

Words his father often repeated in his childhood, echoed in his head. You are a gentleman, Nathaniel. Gentlemen never leave a lady in distress.

His bubble of irritation popped and he squared his shoulders. He would not disgrace his father's memory. Things would work—they had to—but that did not mean everything had to fall into place right away. He'd give Melior the time and space she needed, and hopefully she'd grow to at least tolerate him.

Tolerate. Was that all he had to look forward to in his marriage?