Page 18 of The Scarlet Lady's Duke of Desire
There was only one thing left for her to do: procrastinate over the offer further with her best friend who hopefully would put her off the idea entirely. Petunia had always been the voice of reason whenever it came down to Melody thinking of doing something stupid.
Given it was usually only small things, not things like crashing her uncle's ball with a duke, she was quite certain her friend would be well disposed to putting an end to the entire thing.
When she knocked on the door of the Blackfords’ London townhouse, Melody suddenly thought,what if her mama is home?
Bile rose in the back of Melody's throat. Lord Blackford wasn't really anything to worry about. He was a man and a lord and as such he did not trouble himself with the presence of insignificant girls in his home, whether they were born to scandal or not, unless it was something new or relevant.
His wife on the other hand was like a viper, always ready to strike the moment a threat came to the door. In fact, she would strike first and ask questions of Petunia later without even bothering to ask Melody why she was there in the first place.
For the life of her, Melody couldn't understand how her friendship with Petunia had survived for so long.
The moment Melody knocked upon the front door, she realised her mistake. All those years she had snuck around the back to the servants’ entrance whenever she was visiting Petunia.
At least, that way her mother couldn't complain about her having been seen on the front porch if she was to catch them talking together. But in her haste to talk to her friend, she had entirely forgotten.
Out of the corner of her eye, Melody saw the net curtain upon the drawing room window twitch. Though she did not catch the face that peered out, she was certain it was female. And her heart hammered as she imagined Lady Blackford charging to the door, demanding that she depart immediately.
Instead, when the door was opened, Melody found herself face to face with the Blackfords’ butler, Mr Jenkins.
Though startled for a few seconds, the grey haired, wrinkled man, smiled at Melody as though he was surprisingly pleased to see her.
“Miss Thornton, was Miss Blackford expecting you?” the butler asked with a bow of his head. When he looked at her again, his raised eyebrow suggested that he too was wondering why she had come to the front door.
Melody gulped. She wanted to ask if Lady Blackford was present but a part of her didn't dare to ask in case the name brought the woman forth.
She was just about to tell him no, Petunia was not expecting her, when the sound of hurried footsteps came behind him.
“Melody, come in!” Petunia insisted and with relief, Melody realised it had been her friend peering at the window. “Mama is out.”
For once, Melody was relieved at how easily her friend read her mind. Breathing a deep sigh, Melody slipped past Jenkins with a smile and a nod of acknowledgement.
“Jenkins, we shall take tea in the drawing room, please,” Petunia said to the butler, who simply gave a nod, took Melody's coat to hang it for her, and then was gone to the kitchen.
No sooner had he disappeared than Petunia grabbed Melody by the arm and hurried her to the drawing room.
Almost the instant they found themselves there, Petunia grabbed Melody's hands, stood before her, and met her gaze as she asked, “What is the matter?”
Melody shivered at her friend's ability to know when something was troubling her. It was next to impossible to hide anything from her. Though for once, she was glad of the fact as it helped her to broach the subject much more quickly than if she had been forced to pussyfoot around it.
“At the park, when mama and I stumbled upon you and Lord Worthing and your mama,” Melody said and even as she did, Petunia guided her over to the nearest silk cushioned couch as though she knew it was going to be a long and lengthy explanation. “When the duke joined us…”
“Yes, yes, I was there,” Petunia insisted with an eager nod of her head. “I do not need you to describe every little detail. What about it? Did something happen between you and the duke?”
Petunia's hands squeezed Melody's as though she had already anticipated the answer. The woman's expression became quite excited, and Melody gulped, fearful of what she was about to say and how her friend might react.
What if she responded badly and suggested that the duke’s idea was a good one? Or worse, what if she suggested Melody ought to stay away from a man with a reputation like that? A man with a reputation like his might well be her only option in the end.
Her father would not be alive forever and when the day inevitably came, what would happen to her and her mother? Heaven forbid what might happen to her on that day if her mother did not outlive her father. Then she would be entirely alone with no clue as to what to do.
Papa has promised me an inheritance,Melody reminded herself but somehow that wasn't any great comfort. In fact, what good was an inheritance if she had nobody to share it with? What good was a large dowry if nobody was willing to take it due to her parentage?
She shivered and it was clear from the concern on her friend's face that Petunia had felt it through her hands. “I do hope he didn't say or do anything inappropriate!” Petunia snapped, suddenly looking angry. “I did not keep too much of a close eye on you as I thought you would like privacy, but now I wish I had…”
“Oh, no, Pettie, the duke was a perfect gentleman,“ Melody insisted. It wasn’t entirely true, but she wouldn't have said he was rude or entirely inappropriate, at least nothing she could not handle.
Yet, her cheeks felt hot just thinking about the encounter and how he had whispered in her ear, how she had felt his warm breath upon her lobe as he'd done so and how it had made her tingle with desire all over.
“He just…he invited me to Lord Faversham's ball this evening.”
