Page 78 of Rescued from Betrayal
“I think it lovely and unique.”
Javenia tipped her head. “Unique. That is a much more palatable way of saying odd, but at least I was not forced to go by a name as presumptuous as Algenon.”
Mr. Roberts laughed. “Yes, but at least my name shortens nicely to something acceptable. What should we call you? Jav, Veni, Ya?”
“Those jokes are ancient,Algenon. Have you not found any new things to twit me about?”
“Oh, I have plenty, but your name never gets old to me.”
Melior noticed the odd inflection at the end of Mr. Roberts’s remark. There was a certain amount of endearment in it. It seemed that even though the pair were always at odds with each other, there was no malice in it. In truth, she would wager they enjoyed their continual banter.
“But if we are to be dispensing with titles, perhaps, Lady Stanford, you would be willing to also use my given… ah… nickname?”
Javenia leaned forward, her arms on her lap. “Yes, but if you ever want to irritate him, do call him Algenon.”
He glared at her, but Javenia only laughed.
When the carriage finally rolled down the cobblestone streets of London, Melior found she had warmed considerably, but perhaps that had to do with the amount of laughter that had filled the carriage as Javenia had regaled her with stories of Nathaniel and Al’s misadventures. The two had exacted their own revenge by sharing Javenia’s part in most of the larks.
All the time she had known Nathaniel, Al, and John, she had always seen them as a group with Eddie, but it seemed the three men had been particular friends with Javenia far longer than either Eddie or Melior had known them.
“Will you also be staying with us, Al?” Nathaniel asked. “Or will you be off to your rented rooms as usual?”
“I would much rather have the comfort of your house if Melior here will play chaperone to the feral creature across from me. I would not want her father to accuse me of any untoward behavior.”
“Feral?” Javenia hissed.
“Like a cat.” Al smirked.
Javenia guffawed. “Fair enough.”
The coach pulled up to a small townhome off of Broad Street. It was not the most fashionable part of Town, but it was clean and presentable, which was more than Melior could say for most of London.
The housekeeper showed Javenia to her room, and Al already knowing his way around, made his way to his. Melior turned to Nathaniel in the entry hall, expecting him to lead the way to her room. He pulled at his collar with a finger, loosening his cravat so it hung awkwardly.
A footman entered carrying Melior’s trunk. “Where do you want I should put this?”
The butler looked to Nathaniel for the answer.
Melior watched the exchange noting the bit of perspiration on Nathaniel’s upper lip. What was he not telling her?
“The main room,” he finally said.
Main room?
Gently he grasped her upper arm and moved her toward the stairs. “I am sorry, Melior. I can sleep somewhere else if you wish me to, but this house only has the three rooms upstairs.”
She did not stop but ascended the stairs with the grace of a queen, for fear the servants would see her surprise.
Nathaniel cleared his throat. “I had not considered it until we stepped inside. I should not have offered a room to Al. There is a sofa in the connected sitting room. I could stretch out there, or perhaps I could sleep in the study. Then again, that might look odd to the servants, but if I lock the door—”
She pulled him to a stop in the hall. “Nate,” she said firmly, bringing his chatter to a halt with the shortened name. “It is fine.”
He stared at her. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. You gave me your word as a gentleman, and that is enough.”
His stiff posture relaxed, but a new strain pulled at his eyes. It looked almost like a grimace. Was there something repulsive about sharing a bed with her?
