Page 82 of Rescued from Betrayal
“Put on your spectacles, Melior,” he said gently.
She did as he asked, placing the beloved gift on the bridge of her nose. Small lines ran through his face, but when his eyes came into focus she nearly gasped. All this time she’d missed the bits of gold that intermixed with the green. The complex colors and lines of his face begged to be painted or at least drawn. How much of the world around her had she missed because she could not see things up close?
Hesitantly she reached up and ran a finger along the line of his jaw and under his lower lip. He inhaled slowly. She swept a few lush brown locks off his forehead. The breath he’d taken in came out as a sigh. His eyes closed.
Gently she laid a hand to the side of his face and pressed her lips to his. His hands found their way up her arms, grasped her shoulders, and pulled her closer. The hunger she felt in his touch gradually removed the doubt Al’s conjecture about Lord Caraway had instilled. It did not matter if the marquess did not want her when a man far more real and caring did.
Nathaniel pulled away, breathing hard, and pressed his forehead to hers. “Melior,” he whispered, “I need to stop.”
Stop. What did that mean? She sat back and pulled the spectacles from her face. “I am sorry.”
He grabbed both her hands in his. “No, do not be. It is just, well, there are things about me that you do not know and it makes it exceedingly hard for me to keep my distance.”
“Do you need to, as you say, keep your distance?”
He chuckled. “Yes. One day you will understand, but for now you need to trust me.” Scooting back, he took up the chair next to hers. “I think it wonderful that you are still reading. I am sorry that I startled you and broke your spectacles.”
“You did not break them. My mother did, the day before we married.”
“In a fit of anger?”
“Yes and no. She was upset when she found me reading, but I do not think she meant to throw my book on them.”
Nathaniel gazed at the fire and Melior’s mind was drawn back to the rest of the conversation with her mother. That had been the day she’d opened up the mysteries of marriage to her, when she’d spoken of Melior’s responsibilities to her husband as if they were a horror to be borne. But the kiss she’d shared with Nathaniel had been anything but awful. In truth, it had beenthe most exquisite experience she’d ever had, far better than the little pecks men stole in the garden. Was it possible that this too was another of her mother’s tainted views? One acquired because she’d married for status rather than true affection.
Melior glanced back at Nathaniel, a warm glow beginning in her chest as she evicted what she hoped were the last of her mother’s lies. Lady Kendall may have entered into an unloving marriage, but that did not mean Melior had to settle for the same.
She slipped her spectacles back on, then reached out and grasped Nathaniel’s hand.
He focused on her and smiled. “Thank you, Melior.”
“For what?”
“For trusting me enough to share this little piece of your life.”
“You are welcome, I suppose.”
“Is it too much to ask that you share one more insight?”
“And what is that?”
“What really upset you in our conversation earlier?”
Melior flinched, not wanting to ruin this beautiful moment between them. If she shared the truth, it would wipe away the love shining in Nathaniel’s eyes.
Love? Was that truly what she saw? But what else could it be? Perhaps it was only a deep affection or regard at this point, but it looked like love to her. Did she appear the same?
She pondered on the feelings within her heart but could not distinguish if it was love or not, having never truly experienced it before.
Finally she spoke, sharing a truth, albeit a different one than Nathaniel sought. “It hurt to think I meant so little to Lord Caraway, and that he might have truly wished me harm. Since all of this happened, I have had to readjust the way I view myself and those around me so much. One more rejection felt like the last straw that broke this camel’s back.”
“I can only imagine. Between the two of us, this marriage has changed far more in your life than it has in mine.”
“You have had substantial changes too.”
“Yes, but unlike you, my mother still wants me as part of her life.”
She smiled, but sadness tugged at her heart for the mother she’d needed and never had, and for the reconciliation that would probably never come. It hurt to realize that one’s parent, the person who should have their child’s best interest in mind, was only concerned with what Society would think. That the one person who should have loved her for who she was, only tolerated her for the advancement she could bring.
