Page 5 of Rescued from Betrayal
Till happier hours restored the gift
Untainted back to thine.
She slammed the book shut, visions of her uncle leading Lady Jillian onto the floor filling her mind. For a moment she’d been able to forget the gossip. The lady was only thirty. What were they to do if Uncle Percy married again and produced an heir?
All her life she’d been brought up to believe her father would inherit, Aunt Lucinda having been told she would never carry a child to term. Melior was to be a lady; she’d been raised to one day claim that title. What if it was taken from her?
Even though she would still be the niece of a duke it was not the same as being the daughter of one. A certain marquess may not view her the same after her uncle married, and Uncle Percy would marry if he wanted to save Lady Jillian from scandal.
After the dreaded dance she’d tried to make her way to her uncle to inquire about his intentions, but he’d departed before she reached him, leaving everyone with more questions. Her father had gathered all the information he could, but they still had no concrete answers. Knowing the code of honor her uncle ascribed to, she had no doubt they would hear of an engagement within the week, probably within the day.
She set the book in the box and locked her spectacles in with it. The night's revelries had made her more fatigued than she’d previously thought. Maybe after she slept a few hours she’d be able to more fully face the realities before her.
But just as her eyes closed, the Brutus styled brown hair and mocking green eyes of Sir Nathaniel filled her mind. He’d cast her a smug smile when her uncle led Lady Jillian out onto the floor. If her world had not been tilting on its axis she would have scowled back, but in that moment she’d been lost.
Then his smile had faded into a look of concern. Of all the times for him to finally show interest in her wellbeing, why did it have to be that one? It had nearly brought her to tears, and tears were not acceptable in a ballroom.
Drat the man.
First he’d nearly made her cry, and now he was stealing her sleep.
Hours of sleep had brought no relief from the thoughts that still whirled in Melior’s head. When she was finally dressed, shemade her way to the drawing room where she knew her family would be gathered at this hour.
When she entered, however, she was disturbed to find not only her two brothers and her mother, but all three of Eddie’s closest friends.
The gentlemen rose and she glanced at each one in turn. Mr. Roberts smiled. Lord Newhurst, who had been engaged elsewhere last night, nodded in acknowledgement. But it was Sir Nathaniel’s concerned gaze that put starch in her spine. He’d stolen her sleep; she would not let him steal her composure.
“I see we are to entertain all the rabble today. Could we not have had one day of peace, Eddie?” She added a halfhearted smile to soften her words.
“Never a better time to have friends around then when the great queen is unseated from her throne.”
Normally she enjoyed their banter, but this time the barb stung. She glared at him.
Their mother harrumphed. “That was uncalled for, Edwin. You will apologize to your sister. It has been a very trying day for all of us.”
“My apologies, Mother, Melior. I was only jesting.”
“Yes, but your timing was quite poor,” Mr. Roberts said, coming to stand before Melior. “Come have a seat by me. I shall protect you from your well-meaning brothers.”
Osborne scowled. “Me? I have not even put more than two sentences together all morning. Why does Mel need protection from me?”
Eddie sat down. “Because if you get up the strength to put three sentences together you might remind her of how we will all very likely lose our expected titles, for that is the only sentence you have uttered incessantly all day.”
Osborne grumbled and leaned back in his chair.
“Is it settled then?” Melior asked. “Has Papa received word from Uncle Percy?”
“Not yet.” Her mother frowned. “But we expect your father back from Grosvenor Square at any moment. Hopefully he will be able to talk some sense into your uncle.” Picking up the teapot, she poured a cup. “Come, have some tea, dear. It will calm your nerves.”
Melior accepted the cup from her mother and added a few small sandwiches to her plate. Everyone sat in silence as she ate, which unnerved her. After a time, Mr. Roberts drew the other men into a conversation about the price of corn.
A maid entered carrying a large display of white roses and everyone stopped. No doubt they all had expected it to be her father.
“Flowers for ye, miss.”
“Who are they from?”
“Lord Caraway.”
