Page 112 of Rescued from Betrayal
“Yes, she will be heartbroken with the loss of her friend,” he said softly. “What does that say of me that, in my joy, I forgot again about her sorrow?”
“Nothing. There was nothing you could do at the time, and I do not believe your mother would want you to be miserable. When we return we will mourn with her, but that does not discount our joy.”
He smiled and laid his head against hers. “You have the most generous heart, do you know that?”
“I would not say the most. I am trying to improve, though.”
“Like your name suggests.”
“Yes. One day I hope our children will know that I lived up to the name of Melior.”
Nathaniel nuzzled her ear. “Our children. I like the sound of that.”
Epilogue
Six months Later
The wind blew autumn leaves about outside the window as Melior read over her uncle’s letter again and smiled. The joy in the words was evident and she could not help the giggle that burst forth at the thought of her mother’s livid face.
Nathaniel lowered his paper and looked at her over the breakfast table. “Good news, I suppose?”
She removed her spectacles. “The best. It seems my parents’ worries were well-founded.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, there may be a new heir to the Bedford title by the time we return for the season.”
He set the paper down and leaned forward. “That is fantastic news. My, but your mother must have been irate when she heard the news.”
“They have not told her yet.” Melior grinned.
Chuckling, Nathaniel picked up his paper. “Of course they have not.” He was silent for a moment, then glanced over hisnewsprint at her. “I almost forgot. John sent word that our painting is finally ready. It should be delivered later today”
Melior set the folded letter by her breakfast plate. “Finally. Does it always take him so long to finish a painting?”
“No, but you know how hard he took Mrs. Wayland’s death.”
“Very true. By the by, I have been meaning to ask you if I might bring someone along for the season.”
He peered at her. “Have you not already offered to sponsor Miss Wayland this season?”
Melior ducked her head, carefully smoothing her face as she took a bite of toast. “Yes, I did. Poor John. Did you see his face when I told him?”
“I did not, but you have told me about his forlorn expression in great detail many times. One might think you take delight in torturing the man.”
“I do not. I am simply nudging him in the right direction.”
“No, you are giving him competition.”
“Perhaps a little adversity will give him the courage to fight for Miss Wayland’s affections.”
“And if he will not?”
“Then I am giving her the opportunity to find someone who will. And even if she does not, the poor girl could use a reprieve from her grief.”
Mrs. Thompson entered the breakfast room.
“Yes?” Melior said, dabbing at her lips to wipe away any remnants of her breakfast.
