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“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 befocused. 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?

Chapter 9

Melior slipped under her covers and placed her spectacles on her nose. With her current situation, love poems were the last thing she’d wanted to read, so she’d replaced the book of Byron with an educational tome on Egypt. It was one of the four books that were hers alone, Uncle Percy having gifted this one to her when she was fifteen.

Packing had taken less time than she’d expected, so after the last trunk was closed and a tray brought up for her dinner, she’d excused her maid for the evening. Nerves had kept her from eating much, even though Cook had sent up her favorite custard for dessert. Eventually she’d opted to retire early.

Truthfully, it was a delight. Usually her schedule was so full she did not have much time to read, but with one last night of true freedom, she needed to fill her mind with as many beautiful words as it could hold. Who knew what sort of library Havencrest would have? It could be atrociously small or lacking in decent reading material.

Opening her book, she began. Three pages in, her eyes caught on a sketch of the Egyptian deity Thoth, its beak-like nose reminding her of Edith. A stinging sensation pricked at her eyes.

Life was so unfair.

Edith and Agatha had been outside her townhouse today.

She’d seen them through the window while Sir Nathaniel prattled on. They’d glanced nervously between each other and then at the house. She’d hoped they would be brave enough to call, but they had not.

When Lord Caraway had joined them on the sidewalk it was almost more than she could bear. The three people she wanted to see most in the world were standing not far away, and she was stuck in the parlor listening to Sir Nathaniel dictate to her the course of her life.

What had the man meant by coming to visit? It was obvious he had no intention of apologizing for breaking her trust, nor did he intend on including her in any decisions or ascertaining her feelings. He could have sent the information he’d relayed in a letter, or simply waited until tomorrow since apparently they would be stuck in a carriage for hours together.

Then again, she was grateful he’d informed her of her parents’ intentions to throw her out without so much as a by your leave. Angry tears trickled down her cheeks. Did no one even consider that she might want to say goodbye to her friends? Did they think so little of her that they would immediately dismiss her the moment she left the church?

All her life, her parents had insisted she was special, that she was far more beautiful than the rest because she was destined for a high position in Society. And yet the moment all that was stolen from her, she was no longer worth their notice. Would they even allow her to visit once she was married?

And what of Sir Nathaniel? He’d said she’d have freedom about his estate, but would he grant her leave to visit her familyif they accepted her back? Probably not. Sir Nathaniel may think he hid his disdain for all of them, but his face was as open as the book on her lap.

Melior’s eyes widened as she realized her tears had dripped on the page and smeared a few words. Setting her spectacles in the box, she grabbed her bed covers and dried her cheeks. Her mother would be appalled at her use of the sheets, but what did it matter now?