Page 15 of Rescued from Betrayal
This was it. She’d be forced to marry the worst rake London had to offer. One hand flew to her torn sleeve while the other covered her eyes as she shrunk back against the cloaks, tears leaking through her fingers while she awaited her life sentence.
Nathaniel quickly took in the scene before him. Mr. Fairchild standing over a crying Melior, her body shaking and her dress torn. That was all it took. He crossed the room, balled his fist, and punched the man square in the nose.
No one took advantage of a woman, especially not one so closely connected to him.
Mr. Fairchild stumbled into a rack of coats, catching himself before he hit the floor. Blood spilled from both sides of his nose and he grabbed someone's unfortunate scarf to staunch the flow.
Thank God Eddie had sent him in search of John. Otherwise, he’d not have passed by in time to hear Melior declare her unwillingness to be caught alone. A few more minutes and… he could not think about it.
“Get out, Mr. Fairchild. And I do not mean only the ball. Get out of London or youwillfind yourself challenged to a duel.”
The coward did not even try to defend himself. He simply nodded his head and ran from the room holding his nose. Nathaniel shook his head in disgust.
Stooping down he said, “Miss Kendall, are you well?”
She wept quietly and he worried Mr. Fairchild had done far more damage than only her torn sleeve. He shrugged out of his coat and gently wrapped it around her shoulders to protect her modesty.
She sniffled. “Thank you.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Nothing is damaged except my pride.”
He smiled sadly. How had she come to be in the cloakroom anyway? Mr. Fairchild had said she walked in of her own accord. Was she looking for her things?
“I… I…” she swallowed and fresh tears fell onto her cheeks. “I thought I was going to be forced to marry him when you opened that door. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
A little crack opened in his heart at seeing her so distressed. She was no longer the perfect picture she purported to every corner of London. In that moment she appeared more human than ever, and he knew he’d do anything to save her from marriage to a rake such as Mr. Tom Fairchild.
It reminded him of a time seven years ago when he’d come upon her weeping in the family library. Her mother had flown into a rage over Melior’s mediocre performance on the pianoforte and demanded she play until the piece was perfect. So Melior had practiced until blisters had formed on her fingers. Then she’d been scolded again for ruining the skin on her fingers.
But it was not her mother’s anger she’d begged him not to reveal to anyone, it was her own tears. She’d wanted to appear strong in the face of adversity and he could not fault her for that.
He sat and placed an arm around her shoulder. “I shall keep your secret.”
She leaned into him, a quiet sob hiccupping out of her. Her fear must have been extensive for her to accept his comfort so willingly. The Melior he knew would never be caught in such an undignified position. He ached for her as he nestled her close.
“What in heaven’s name?” A high-pitched nasal voice said from the doorway.
His head shot up to see not one, but two of London’s biggest busybodies staring wide eyed at the two of them. He clamored to his feet.
Mrs. Cline laid a hand on her ample chest and tutted. “She is even wearing his clothing, Elinor.”
“I can see that,” Lady Plum said.
Nathaniel held up his hands in front of him. “It is not as it seems. Miss Kendall tore her dress and I offered my coat until she could find her maid to fix it.”
“When you are in a room full of unoccupied garments?” Lady Plum shook her head. “You do not expect us to believe that, do you, Sir Nathaniel?”
“No excuse will do for such wanton behavior, sir.” Mrs. Cline pointed a chubby finger at him. “You shall have to marry her now, you know.”
Melior gasped and he opened his mouth to dispute their claim, but an older gentleman with recognizable twin grey streaks in his hair filled the doorway behind them. His eyes swept the room taking in the two matrons and then Melior’s disheveled state. Then they narrowed at Nathaniel.
There was nothing else to say. “Your Grace, may I speak with you… privately?”
Chapter 6
Uncle 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.
