Page 1 of Rescued from Betrayal
Chapter 1
February 1811, London, England
February 1811, London, England
“Lady Jane wants to kill me,” Miss Melior Kendall whispered from behind her fan.
Lady Agatha Easton lowered her fan and glanced across the room at the beautiful blonde bedecked in glistening white and silver. “I highly doubt that. Perhaps throw you in the Thames, but murder seems a bit excessive.”
They both giggled, batting their fans in front of their faces to hide their mirth.
“Either way, her cold glare says she wishes me gone.”
“Perhaps if you had not encroached on her chosen gentleman, she’d be more amicable.”
Melior had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing out loud. Lady Jane would never be her friend, not in a thousand years. Even so, it was not her fault Lord Caraway was so taken with her. It was all in the name. Melior, after all, meant superior and that was what she must be. She touched a glossy dark brown curl to make certain it had not slipped out of the intricate coiffure hermaid had created before the ball. Still exactly one finger’s width from her left ear. Perfect, just as her mother expected her to be.
The song ended and a gentleman led Lady Edith Astor off the floor to join them. Melior greeted her friend with the appropriate social smile but did not interact with her partner since they had not been introduced. As the niece of a duke, she had to be careful of expanding her circle to someone unless they were especially worthy. Since Edith did not offer an introduction, the man was obviously not worthy.
Edith flipped open her fan. “Lady Jane looks like she wants to gouge your eyes out, Mel. What did you do to her this time?”
“Oh, I am certain it is the same complaint as always. Lord Caraway requested the supper set and she happened to be standing nearby. She is simply green with envy. You know how set she is on him.”
Edith looked away. “I would say half the women in this room have their hearts set on him. Young handsome marquesses do not come along every season, you know.”
“Very true.” Melior smiled smugly. Lord Caraway had been showing her marked attention the last few weeks and she was giddy with her success. If everything went as planned, she would have the title her mother insisted on without needing to rely on her father to inherit the dukedom. Besides, the thought of losing Uncle Percy turned her stomach. Aunt Lucinda’s death had been hard enough this last year, and she really did not wish to go through another mourning period any time soon. Black after all, was not her color.
“Is that His Grace leading Lady Jillian to the floor?” Lady Agatha motioned with her rounded chin.
Melior gazed in the direction Agatha had indicated. She recognized the cut of Uncle Percy’s coat, and when he turned she did not miss the streaks of grey that embellished his black hair at the temples. What was he doing? This was the second timethis evening he’d led Lady Jillian to the floor. One more and he might as well announce an engagement to the woman who was only half his age.
Lady Jillian smiled up at him, her pert nose scrunching the slightest bit with the motion. Her exact features were not visible from this distance, but Melior knew the lady had a decent complexion and remarkable amber eyes. Her figure, however, was too petite. It lacked the curves that were all the rage in London.
She glanced down at her own well-endowed form to make sure every part of her still appeared exactly as it ought. A challenge for a person like her, but from what she could see, her white dress, embellished with light blue flowers to match her eyes, still hung straight, accentuating her curves. How she wished she could tell for certain.
Edith leaned in. “I should think a man of his age would know to be more careful.”
Melior shifted her gaze to her friend. “His Grace is always mindful of his actions. I am sure he knows what he is about.”
“But are you not concerned?” Agatha asked, blowing at a chestnut brown curl that had fallen in front of her eye. “Rumors have started that your uncle is seeking another wife.”
Melior had heard the whispers, but she chose not to pay the gossipmongers any mind. Her uncle had been deeply in love with his first wife and she could not imagine him making anyone else his duchess. Then again, Uncle Percy and Aunt Lucinda had never been able to have children. Theyhaddoted on her and her two older brothers, her aunt showing her special favor, but she knew how much they'd wished for their own sons and daughters. If only she’d been born to them and not her own parents, then perhaps he would be content. But fate was unkind like that.
“I think it is a marvelous thing,” a male voice said from over her shoulder.
Melior started in surprise. “Eddie, you should know better than to eavesdrop.”
“And you should be more aware of your surroundings, dear sister, for I have been standing here a full five minutes at least. Personally, I am happy for His Grace. We all should be.”
Melior gave a melodramatic roll of her eyes. “Well, none of us asked you, did we?”
Her brother chuckled. The childish barbs had always been a part of their relationship, and deep down she knew they both liked it.
Melior’s gaze strayed to the man at her brother's left and her playful glare slipped into a real one. Sir Nathaniel Stanford never seemed far from her brother's side these last few weeks. Why did Edwin insist on going around with this particular friend? He had several others. Why not Lord Newhurst or Mr. Roberts? While neither of them held as high of a title as she would normally find acceptable, at least they liked her.
Sir Nathaniel, on the other hand, always looked at her with disdain. Why she could not fathom. Her appearance was always pristine and her station in life had most of London’s elite clamoring for her attention. And yet still he gave her little more than a cursory glance and a slight nod in greeting.
“Mel,” Eddie said, “Did I hear correctly that Lord Caraway has asked you for the supper set?”
