Page 30 of Rescued from Betrayal
Introducing Melior to his mother was going to be awkward enough without having to explain some of the less seemly symptoms of her illness that usually accompanied being upright. Hopefully her lady’s maid had been thorough with his mother’s ablutions this morning.
Inside, Melior handed the butler her things without speaking, her face an unreadable mask. When Nathaniel turned toward the drawing room, she followed silently behind. He should have offered his arm this time, but his pride still smarted from her refusal to take his hand at the carriage, and in front of the servants no less. There would be rumors in the village by supper time.
A footman opened the expertly beveled doors to the drawing room and Nathaniel caught sight of his mother hunched in one of the beautiful cream brocade chairs. She tried to look up at them, but her bent spine made it difficult.
“Mother,” he announced, “May I introduce my wife, Lady Stanford.”
“You forget yourself, Nathaniel. Your wife and I are long standing acquaintances.”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I have not forgotten at all, but she was Miss Kendall then.”
“Very true.” She awkwardly reached up and gave his cheek a pat.
How much pain had the gesture caused her? He rose to his feet and his mother tipped her head to the side to more fully appraise Melior.
To his astonishment, she gave his mother a curtsy worthy of a queen’s presence. “Lady Stanford,” she said when she rose. “It is a pleasure to see you once again.”
“Let us dispense with the Lady Stanfords when it is only us, shall we? It is so confusing, and I am not ready to be called dowager quite yet.”
“Very well. What shall I call you?”
“As you are now my daughter by law, I believe it would be acceptable to call me Mother or Mama. You may add Stanford as a distinction from your own mother if you wish.”
Melior glanced at Nathaniel, a question in her eyes. His harsh words echoed back to him and shame bubbled up from within. He’d practically forbidden her from familiarity with his mother. His father would be furious if he were alive to witness the way he’d ordered his wife about as if she was no more than his servant.
Nathaniel gave a subtle nod.
She smiled softly. “I believe Mama would work nicely. Mother is the address I use for Lady Kendall. And you must call me Melior.”
“Thank you, I shall. Now, Nathaniel, you need not stand about entertaining me here. Please show your bride to her chambers so she may rest before we dine. I am sure she is quite fatigued with the journey.” Then, turning to Melior, she said, “I have instructed your new lady’s maid to deliver tea to your room so you might warm your insides. You must be frozen clear through with the journey you have made today.”
“Thank you, La—” she hesitated. “Mama. Tea would be lovely.”
The way his mother beamed at Melior’s address made him nervous. He hoped her joy would not be short-lived.
In the hall, all pretense of good will from Melior fell from her face. She raised her chin and peered at him expectantly. The arrogant tilt of her head irritated him at the same moment his masculine eyes admired the perfect curve of her neck. How could she be so beautiful and aggravating at the same time?
Mrs. Thompson hovered in his peripheral vision, so he gestured to her. She hesitantly approached.
“Please see Lady Stanford to her quarters.”
A flash like blue lightning flared to life in Melior’s eyes, but the shimmer in their depths and the way her lips pinched betrayed the feelings she tried to hide. He’d actually hurt her with his refusal to escort her.
He was tempted to stop Mrs. Thompson and lead Melior himself, but good sense prevailed and he turned away. They both needed a break from one another or they might utter harsh words they could not take back.
With determined steps he turned toward his study. Why did every interaction with Melior have to be so fraught with attractionandfrustration? She was so blasted beautiful and irritating at the same time. He paused at the door. Irritating was not the right word. Disappointing seemed more appropriate.
She’d had so much potential before she left the school room. Did that potential still exist, or had the intelligent, entertaining girl been trained right out of her?
Melior dabbed at her eyes, grateful to be left to herself for a few hours. She snuggled deeper under the fluffy quilts upon her bed, using a pillow to muffle her sob. Not only had she lost her dearest friends, but she’d lost everything she’d ever known. There would be no more dancing and dining with those of her acquaintance unless His Grace somehow smoothed things over.And she was certain that would not happen for quite some time. He had his own nuptials ahead of him and would not likely think of her again until things were settled between him and Lady Jillian.
She supposed she should be grateful to be away from her parents, especially as their quarrels had become increasingly heated with Uncle Percy’s upcoming marriage. There had always been an air of unease between them, but the more her mother complained of a prospective new heir to the dukedom the more her father lost patience.
Someone knocked on the door, and she immediately ceased her tears, covering her head with the blanket. Perhaps if she feigned sleep, whoever it was would go away.
“My lady,” her lady’s maid said from the door. “I am sorry to wake you, but it is time to dress for dinner.”
Had she really cried for a full two hours? She gently probed around her eyes, feeling the puffiness and knowing she most likely looked a fright.
