Page 52 of The Scarlet Lady's Duke of Desire
It didn't rightly matter. Melody already knew enough about Mr Colton to know that she now hated the idea of marrying him. Whether her cousin knew of him or not, it was clear she was goading her. There was nothing similar about herself and the gentleman that could possibly make them a match.
At least, she hoped there wasn't. She had believed him kind and generous but after hearing all the duke had to say about him, she knew it was all just an act.
Melody's stomach clenched harder and harder the longer she had to stand there and maintain eye contact with her cousin. She couldn't bring herself to show any weakness; not a tear or even a tremble of her lip. She would remain calm.
"Not that it is any of your business, My Lady, but I came here tonight to support a dear friend of mine," Melody stated. "And if you would excuse me, I should go and find her. I have been away from her side much too long."
"If you mean Miss Blackford, you might tell her she is wasting her time also," Lady Florence hissed in Melody's ear as she passed, "The duke would never lower himself to marry a woman who associates herself with the likes ofyou."
A part of Melody wished to turn on Lady Florence and wrestle her to the ground, as they might have done when they were children, if they had been allowed to grow up side by side.
Instead, she clamped her lips shut and tensed her shoulders, fighting the urge to weep. She had hoped that although she no longer wished to marry him, her current engagement to Mr Colton might have offered her a little protection from the likes of Lady Florence.
It appeared that she was entirely wrong.
Perhaps she is right,she thought as she hurried off, headed directly for Petunia who was standing half-way around the dancefloor.I shouldn't have come at all.
"Oh, Miss Thornton, do come back!" Lady Florence called. "We were having such a wonderful talk."
Why would she do that?Melody thought even as she diverted from her path to Petunia and made a detour in favour of the nearest exit.
She knew well why her cousin had raised her voice. It was only upon the intention of making everybody close by look at Melody. As if she had not been gawked at enough by every member of theton,each time she stepped out of her front door, merely for existing.
Now she could hear several people whispering about her marriage to Mr Colton, about how they suspected she had been loose and managed to get herself with child to trap him into marriage, about how she was just like her mother and was no better than a common whore.
As if Lady Florence's confrontation wasn't enough, she simply couldn't get away from it all.
Suddenly, unable to breathe and feeling as though it was more to do with the tension in the ballroom than it was the double stays she was wearing, she raced for the safety of the terrace.
She had barely made it into the shadows at the edge of the stone balcony when the tears started to stream down her cheeks. Overcome with emotion, she could not prevent them from falling. All she could do was stem the flow with a handkerchief until they subsided.
They had not yet done so when she heard someone clearing their throat behind her. Daring not to show them that she was crying, she held her breath and called, "Please, I wish to be left alone."
Were it not such a masculine clearing of the throat she might have believed it was Petunia and that she had seen her hurry from the ballroom.
Instead, realising that the footsteps that drew nearer were indeed those of a gentleman, she froze. Still holding her breath, she did not dare to glance around.
"You are upset," came a gentle voice and Melody's entire body quivered at his tone. "I could not leave you alone in such a state."
Her heart clenched at his words and dabbing at her tears with her handkerchief, she turned to face the duke.
As she did, a memory hit her like a slap to the face. A night much like this one in which she had cried, and he had wiped away her tears before landing a kiss upon her lips.
Steeling herself against the mixture of emotions that were dredged up, Melody hardened herself against him and said, "Please, go. Do not act as if you care for me."
"Who has said that I am acting?" the duke asked as he stepped forward, breaking the distance before them. With the lantern light from the house at his back, Melody found it exceptionally difficult to see his face. She could, however, see his eyes. Even in the moonlight they glowed with charm.
Melody could not bear to see it and so she quickly turned away once more. It was only out of the corner of her eye that she saw him raise a handkerchief to her. "Here."
"I have my own."
"Yours is already soaked through."
Before she could protest, the duke removed her handkerchief from her hand and slipped his between her fingers instead. "Never say I do not care."
The husky tone of his voice made Melody tremble and though she looked at him out of her peripheral, she feared to turn to face him directly.
Though she gripped his handkerchief, warm from where it had been nestled in his breast pocket, Melody didn't raise it to her face to use it for fear that it might smell of him. It had taken her long enough to remove his scent from her memory. She did not need to have to try again.
