Page 27 of The Scarlet Lady's Duke of Desire
“Mr Colton!” Mrs Thornton exclaimed upon seeing him. “How lovely to see you! Were you just arriving?”
“I am afraid Mr Colton was just leaving,” Melody announced quickly before the man could say a word. The man himself smiled warmly to Melody’s mother and gave another bow.
“Forgive me, Mrs Thornton but I fear I have already taken up enough of your daughter’s time.”
With that, he bowed once more to Melody and swiftly left the house. For the first time, Melody wished she could call him back if only to avoid the words she knew her mother was about to say.
The moment her mother turnedthatlook upon her, Melody braced herself. Yet, it was not enough to stop her from cringing inwardly when her mother said, “Oh, isn’t he lovely to come and call on you again?”
“Yes, mama.”
It wasn’t worth the argument that whether he was lovely or not, she did not feel about the man in the way that her parents might have liked her to. Perhaps it would be easier for them all if she did, but she did not.
As if she sensed her daughter’s reluctance, Mrs Thornton raised an eyebrow and said, “Melody, you would be wise to encourage his attentions or you might find it entirely too difficult to find a suitable marriage given our…situation.”
Melody’s jaw clenched and thought to suggest that perhaps she might not actually wish to marry if it were for the simple fact that shehadto. All the romance books she had read, especially of late, had their claws in her and not a single one of them had ended with a marriage forced out of necessity.
She opened her mouth to suggest so but before she could do so, someone exclaimed, “Please, hold the door.”
Melody and her mother turned their full attention upon the door that the butler had begun to close. Melody’s jaw practically hit the floor when she saw the man taking the porch steps two at a time to reach the door before the butler closed it.
“Jenkins, wait!” Melody called instinctively and at the same moment the butler pulled back the door.
The duke stood in the doorway with a brilliantly charming smile upon his face.
“Pardon me, sir, I did not see you there,” Jenkins apologised with a bow of his head.
“Can we help you, sir?” Mrs Thornton added, her brow raised though not looking nearly as suspicious as she had at her daughter. Though from the way she spoke, it was clear she had no idea who the man was.
“Forgive the interruption, Mrs Thornton,” the duke responded, bowing deeply. Melody wondered for only a second how he had known who she was but then quickly remembered that save for the distinct difference in age, she and her mother looked quite alike. It was one of the reasons she found herself with so much trouble on her shoulders. Everybody treated her just as they did her mother, simply because they looked alike.
“I was rather hoping that I might have a moment with your daughter. I came to apologise for last night.”
Bile rose in the back of Melody’s throat as her mother turned an even more suspicious glare upon her. Before her mother could ask anything, she stated, “There is nothing to apologise for, Your Grace. Mama, may I present His Grace, The Duke of Haston?”
“The Duke of Haston?” Her mother exclaimed, her voice both shocked and perhaps a little suspicious.
No doubt she had heard of the man’s reputation and his title. For once, Melody was unsure of exactly what her mother was thinking, though she was certain of one thing, the duke had really dropped her in it. “What happened last night?”
The duke’s face grew pale and the way he looked at Melody, his jaw clearly clenching, suggested he knew the mistake he had made.
“It is nothing, mama,” Melody protested, shaking her head. “Perhaps you ought to go and rest. I’m certain you’ve had quite the morning.”
She inclined her head towards the carriage at the bottom of the porch steps where a couple of footmen were unloading the boxes and packages that her mother had brought back from town.
The look on her mother’s face said she would have none of it.
“Miss Melody Thornton, what happened last night?”
Melody hated the way her mother cocked her head to one side, eyebrow raised, and placed a hand upon her hip.
“Truly, Mrs Thornton, it was nothing,” the duke said quickly as though he wished to make up for his mistake.
Melody offered him a grateful glance before she turned her gaze down and addressed her mother’s question, “Mama, forgive me for lying to you but I didn’t just go over to Petunia’s last evening. I…I went to the Faversham ball.”
She held her breath, waiting for the explosion she knew was about to come.
“Your uncle’s ball?” her mother gasped. “What would your papa say?”
