Page 58 of Rescued from Betrayal
Lord Newhurst let out an exasperated sigh. “It is no use, Eddie. The lighting has changed too much in the quarter hour you have spent barking useless orders.”
Her brother’s affronted look made her giggle even harder and she turned to share her amusement with Nathaniel. He grinned back, but then sobered.
They stared into one another's eyes. In the background she could hear her brother arguing with Lord Newhurst, but all she could think about was the wild urge she had to lean forward and kiss Nathaniel. It would not be improper, she reminded herself. They were married after all.
And yet…
Nathaniel leaned forward, his eyes flicking to her lips. Had she somehow spoken her thoughts out loud? She inhaled sharply, holding her breath with anticipation as he placed his hand back on her cheek.
“That’s it,” Lord Newhurst called out. “Now hold that position.”
Nathaniel paused, his eyes snapping with a look she could not quite understand. Was it frustration, disappointment? Or was he simply trying to return to the expression they’d both had before? Melior slowly let out the air in her lungs.
For her part, she hoped it was disappointment because those were her sentiments entirely. She supposed she’d have to content herself with his hand on her cheek and the knowledge that they were making progress toward an amiable existence.
Gingerly, Melior took up a seat next to her mother-in-law’s bed.
“What is ailing you?” Lady Stanford asked.
“It seems a month away from riding has made me soft. I forget that country rides with my brother are a great deal harder than the slow ambling ones through Hyde Park.”
Lady Stanford chuckled. “I have not forgotten how sore one's backside can get after a long absence from the saddle.”
“And one's limbs.” Melior giggled. “I am certain I will be several shades of blue and purple from the rub of the leaping head. While I do adore those colors, I would rather they not be on my skin.”
“Very true.” Lady Stanford grinned.
“It is good to see you smiling, Mother,” Nathaniel said from the open door.
Melior peeked over her shoulder at him, only to find her uncle standing outside the room. She rose.
Nathaniel approached the bed. “Would you mind if His Grace joined us for tea in here?”
“Not in the least, as long as he does not mind seeing an old woman laid out like a roast duck.”
Melior threw a hand over her mouth to cover her laugh, but her uncle was not so discreet. His low chuckle filled the room.
“I must say, the last roast duck on my table was not dressed half so fine.”
“You mean it lacked a mob cap and shawl. Poor thing must have been quite chilly.”
“I think not. The turnips and parsley kept it quite comfortable.”
Lady Stanford laughed. “You always were good for a little nonsense, Your Grace.”
Uncle Percy smiled and sat on the other side of the bed from where Melior retook her seat. “I am unsure if that is a compliment or an observation on my intelligence.”
“Both. Only intelligent people are quick witted enough to match drollery for drollery.”
“Then I shall return the compliment. You are as witty as ever.”
“Yes, at least one part of me still works adequately well.”
Melior smiled but the men turned somber, the reminder of Lady Stanford’s failing health stealing the humor from the room. Nathaniel picked up a chair near the door and moved it next to hers.
“I had not realized you and the duke were so well acquainted, Mother. Why have you not mentioned it before?”
For the first time Melior could remember, Lady Stanford blushed. It was an odd look for the aging lady, but the color added more life to her face than Melior had seen since she’d arrived nearly a month ago.
