Page 1 of A Wallflower Never Forgets
Prologue
Mayfair, London ~ May 1817
“Confess! You like him. I know you do,” Lady Lilian Harlow said with a playful glint in her blue-green eyes.
“Don’t tease our dear Melanie so,” Lady Lydia Yarstone said to her twin sister. “After all, there’s no need for her to confess something we’ve known since childhood!”
Lady Melanie Stenson rolled her eyes at her friends. “Not all of us are as fortunate to have found true love as you both have.” Lilian and Lydia had been fortunate and found love matches. And in twin fashion, they married in a double wedding ceremony a little over a year ago.
“Oh, dearest, I’m certain your time will come. You are beautiful inside and out, and your heart is full of love.” Lilian pulled Melanie into a warm embrace.
“If only our dear big brother would finally come to his senses,” Lydia sighed.
Melanie swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. She adored her friends and was happy to return to their company again. But that also meant being around Viscount Jonathan DeLacey, Lydia and Lilian’s older brother and the most perfect man in the world, as far as Melanie was concerned.
Melanie had been living in Scotland with her mother’s family for the past two years since the passing of her father, while her brother Gavin took on the duties of his new title as the Earl of Rochester. Now, at seventeen, Melanie had only just returned with her mother for her come out. In the time he’d been away, she’d never forgotten Jonathan. Not a day went by that she didn’t think about him and recall every single conversation they’d ever had. She’d kept in touch with her friends, writing to them weekly, and had known that Jonathan was still a bachelor. Her friends had assured her that Jonathan didn’t seem at all interested in any of the young ladies of the ton.
That gave Melanie hope.
She took a quick peek over at Viscount Jonathan DeLacey, who stood across the room with Gavin and several of their friends, chatting amiably. Dark chestnut wavy hair that seemingly could never be tamed framed a face that seemed almost sculpted, enhanced by piercing blue eyes that sparkled like sapphires.
“Thankfully, Jonathan has no idea just how handsome he is; if he did, he’d be unbearable to be around,” Lilian said, her voice low but filled with mischief.
“What makes you say that?” Melanie asked, her gaze once more straying to the viscount, his presence made her heart skip a beat. It had been that way for as long as she could remember.
“My dear, big brother has always had a gift for making people feel comfortable around him,” Lilian said. “When Jonathan speaks to you, it’s as if you’re the only person in the room.”
Melanie couldn’t disagree. She hadn’t had many opportunities to speak with Jonathan, given the difference in their ages, but whenever she did, she’d found herself tongue-tied and in awe of his presence, his easy confidence, and that charmingly crooked smile. She recalled one of her happiest memories of Jonathan.
She had been ten, and she, Lilian, and Lydia had been giggling and taking turns pushing each other on the swing with the sturdy wooden seat hanging from the large oak tree at Elysium Manor. Jonathan and Gavin, who’d been home from school, had just come back from a ride. Jonathan had sauntered across the yard, his hands in his pockets. He was tall but still on the lanky side, just hinting at the muscular physique he had today.
“Ah, yes. That was my favorite tree, as well,” she remembered him saying, flashing that crooked smile. “See that branch?” He pointed to the sturdy branch where the swing was attached. “That branch is deceptively higher than it appears. When I was your age, I climbed the tree and stood on top of that branch. Your brother, Gavin, dared me to jump rather than climb back down. I took him up on his dare. Unfortunately, I landed hard and broke my arm. So be careful if you’re climbing.”
Melanie sighed at the memory. Jonathan’s blue eyes sparkled as he winked at them before he strolled back to his group of friends. Even now, seven years later, the man’s smile lit up the room like sunshine. He’d always treated his sisters and her as if they mattered—not like silly young girls. “I’ve always liked him. But that doesn’t mean I like him,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. But the truth was, she couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t pine after Jonathan. Now that she was finally and officially out in Society, she hoped that he’d ask her to dance. This was the second ball of her first Season. Jonathan had been out of town for her first ball, which had been a huge disappointment.
“You don’t fool me, Melanie Stenson,” Lydia whispered. “Remember, Lilian and I are your best friends, we can almost read your mind. And we know how you really feel about him.”
“But what girl doesn’t dream of being whisked away by her very own dashing hero?” Lilian said. “Jonathan certainly looks every bit the part. Just look at those broad shoulders. One day, he had normal shoulders. And then, poof! He came home looking different—and all the debutantes took notice.”
Melanie felt her face flush again. This time, more intensely. Lilian was known for speaking her mind without hesitation. “Hush, I don’t want the entire world to know my secret.” She grabbed her fan from where it hung on her wrist, opened it up, and began to fan herself while trying to appear inconspicuous. Yes, Lilian was right. Melanie had always hero-worshipped Jonathan. He was different from her brother’s other friends, and not just because of that smile and the way he made her feel—like she mattered. But in truth, he was her hero. He’d saved her more times than she could count.
The first time, he saved her from nearly drowning in the pond on her family’s estate. She’d tried to rescue a stray calico kitten who had managed to climb up a maple tree and was teetering along a branch that jutted over the pond. Melanie had climbed up the tree and had the kitten in her hand when she tumbled into the pond, kitten and all. Luckily, Jonathan had come upon her and scooped her out. He’d nicknamed her Kitten after that day. Melanie had nearly swooned when he’d started calling her that. After all, her father had had a nickname for her mother; he’d called her Rosebud, and her mother always blushed whenever he did that, although Melanie had no idea why.
Then there was the time the three girls had climbed the tree, each determined to climb higher than the others. Melanie had been determined to win, which meant she had to climb the highest. She climbed to the top and looked down, only to see Lilian already on the ground, looking up at her and Lydia on a lower branch, starting to make her way down.
“You win, Melanie,” Lydia said. “Even I won’t climb that high. Better stop going up and start moving back down. And be careful.”
“I…I can’t,” Melanie recalled saying as she gripped the tree and hugged it tightly to her chest. “I think I’m in trouble.”
As it happened, Jonathan and Gavin rode by and saw what had happened. Jonathan got off his horse and handed Lillian his coat. He climbed the tree—to the top, where Melanie clung to the tree and coaxed her down, step by step.
“Listen to my voice, Kitten. Feel for the branch below you before stepping down on it. I’m watching, and I’m here,” he said gently.
Miraculously, she made it to the bottom and clung to him, tears streaming. Neither he nor Gavin said anything remotely reproving.
“You’re okay, Kitten.” He leaned down and hugged her.
Perhaps the most daring rescue happened when she, Lilian, and Lydia had been out riding at Stenson Hall, her family’s estate in Falmouth, and noticed a storm brewing. They’d tried to beat the storm back to the stable. But a clap of thunder startled Scout, Melanie’s two-year-old gelding, causing him to bolt across the fields. Melanie could hear Lilian’s and Lydia’s shouts; her friends had managed to rein their horses in, but Scout was too spooked to pay attention to Melanie’s commands.
