Page 1 of The Scarlet Lady's Duke of Desire
Chapter 1
Miss Melody Thornton stood at the edge of the dancefloor, as she always did during balls. She watched, longingly, as couple after couple danced past her, wondering what it might be like to be one of those ladies who was asked regularly to the dancefloor.
As the daughter born of scandal, it very rarely occurred. And though sometimes that was a relief, especially when some of the gentlemen in attendance were less desirable, it also left her quite miserable at times.
Her only solace was standing beside her best friend, Miss Petunia Blackford. Brown-haired, blue-eyed, pretty and petite, Miss Blackford, as the daughter of Viscount Blackford, was well-liked and often sought out at such events. Though Melody thought she would be even more sought after if she did not insist upon associating herself publicly with her.
“I cannot believe I allowed you to talk me into coming tonight,“ Melody sighed deeply, feeling the eyes of several other guests upon her. Their expressions were only mildly unpleasant towards her, but it was enough to tell her they thought that she had no right to be amongst them.
It had always been that way. She had been dealing with the scorn of thetonsince the moment of her birth, through no fault of her own, but sometimes it affected her more than others. That particular night was one of those times. She hadn't really been feeling up to attending anyway, but standing there with so many scowls and whispered comments thrown in her direction, she constantly felt the urge to run.
“Oh, Melody, we have barely been here for half an hour,” Petunia protested. Though she shook her head, her updo was pinned to perfection and didn't move an inch on her head. Though the diamond tiara upon her head looked heavy, she seemed to be having no trouble with it either. Petunia made everything look flawless and effortless and next to her, Melody felt as though she stuck out like a sore thumb.
Yet, she would not change her best friend for the world. She just wished that they could keep their company together private so not to leave a smudge upon her friend's reputation, as there was already one upon her own.
“Yes, and that half an hour has been enough for everyone in the room to begin their gossip about my being here,” Melody said, discreetly tilting her head towards several older ladies across the dancefloor who were glancing at her, their heads close together as they whispered to each other.
“Oh, Melody, stop being so self-centred,” Petunia said mockingly and with great affection. “Not everything is about you, you know.”
Though said in jest, her words made Melody's gut churn at the truth behind them. Deep down they both knew Melody was right. She could see it in the way that Petunia kept shooting warning glares at those close by. But Melody's friend's silent warnings could only go so far. As the daughter of a viscount, she had some influence but not enough.
And Melody hated her to use it either way. Though she could never give up the one true friend she had, she often concerned herself with the problems it might cause for Petunia if they were seen to be too close. Would her friend struggle to find herself a husband if men believed her to be too close to the product of a scandal?
Though she often thought herself silly for thinking too critically on the matter, there were times, especially at such events, when those thoughts crossed her mind even more than usual.
After all, Melody and Petunia had been at the ball for half an hour and though Melody had not expected anyone to come and ask her to dance, she would have thought that at least one gentleman would have asked Petunia by now.
“Perhaps I ought to go and get us a drink?” Melody suggested, glancing in the direction of the refreshments table. Though she felt sick at the thought of travelling through the crowd alone, especially to the table where a great portion of guests liked to congregate, she was certain she would be doing her friend a great favour.
“I can come with you,” Petunia insisted, and Melody was about to protest, already half-turning to leave when suddenly she felt herself come up against something hard.
Colliding with the woman who had been walking in the opposite direction, Melody stumbled backwards, immediately and automatically apologising, “Oh, my lady, please forgive me for…”
She cut herself off the moment she looked up and saw the woman staring back at her. Anger and aggression boiled just beneath the surface of her green eyes and Melody got the distinct impression that their colliding was far less of an accident than she at first believed.
“Watch where you are going,servant,” Lady Florence Thornton snarled at her.
Melody's stomach clenched at the words. She already knew what was coming. She had heard it all before. “Oh! Miss Thornton,cousin, forgive me. I mistook you for a lady's maid!”
The sarcasm and mockery in her cousin's tone was enough to make Melody grit her teeth.
“You really ought to watch where you are going.” The woman who was only eighteen months or so older than her, growled the words out, almost reminding Melody of a wild animal. Yet, it was Melody who was feeling cornered. With the other guests all around them, she knew all too well who would be blamed for any incident that involved herself. No matter what happened, it would always be her.
“You know, Lady Florence, maybe if you paid more attention to your own surroundings, you might not have mistaken Melody for a servant,” Petunia put in, and though her friend had always stuck up for her when it counted, Melody couldn't help but feel awkward about it. “You also might not have stumbled into her at all.”
The disgruntled expression on her cousin’s face told Melody that Florence was not pleased at all for Petunia’s interjection.
“I am certain my cousin did not mean anything by it,” Melody said through gritted teeth; an attempt to stop things from escalating. There was enough attention being drawn their way as it was, the very last thing she wanted was for everyone in the room to notice that a confrontation was taking place.
Why must she always do this?Melody asked herself, unable to understand why her cousin had to be so hateful towards her. Just because their fathers—brothers—did not get along, did not mean that they had to be at each other’s throats all the time. Yet it was clear that Florence preferred it that way.
“You know, Petunia, people are beginning to talk,” Lady Florence said in a low tone, leaning forward as though she meant to give them both a hint at a secret. She glanced from Petunia to Melody and back again before she added, “Therespectablemembers of thetonare worried that if you spend too much more time in close proximity with Miss Thornton, you might find yourself scandalised also.”
Melody’s stomach clenched at her words and her throat constricted when she saw the look upon her friend’s face. It was clear from that instant that Petunia had already come up with a very witty response, one that she was no doubt going to be horrendously proud of.
And Melody barely had a chance to brace herself for whatever fallout there would be when Petunia replied with a hissing tone, “I would be more concerned with spending too much time in close proximity with someone as toxic as you, Lady Florence.”
At the words, Lady Florence looked horrified. Her mouth formed a huge ‘O’ for several seconds before she quickly grabbed her feather fan and popped it open, lifting it to hide her face from view. Her eyes darted about as though she wanted to be sure there had been nobody around close enough for them to hear Petunia’s words.
