Page 74 of Rescued from Betrayal
Mrs. Wayland reached out to the older woman and for the first time Melior noted how odd the woman’s gown fit. Was it a trick of the light or did one side of the woman’s dress seem significantly bigger about the chest than the other? A fichu was tucked into the neckline, but there was some discoloration evident through the thin white fabric.
“My dear, sweet Tabitha,” Lady Stanford said, taking Mrs. Wayland’s hand. “How are you today?”
Mrs. Wayland’s face fell and Lady Stanford’s expression of hope dropped with it.
“Melior, might you take Miss Wayland to see the pianoforte while we wait for tea to be brought up? I know how much she loves our instrument.”
There was nothing to do but follow orders, not with the way Mrs. Wayland’s eyes began to water. “I would be delighted. Come along, Miss Wayland.”
Once outside the room, Melior engaged the girl in several lighthearted topics until they reached the music room. Inside Miss Wayland sat down at the instrument and began to play. Unlike her happy chatter, the music was hauntingly sad.
As the last chords rang throughout the room a tear slipped down Miss Wayland’s round pink cheek. She whisked it away and replaced her teary expression with a smile. “It has been quite some time since I have been over to play.”
“Does Lady Stanford allow you to come often?”
“As often as I can.”
“Then why have you not been over sooner?”
“Yesterday was the first day Mama felt well enough to leave the house in two months.”
“I see. Well, I do not mind if you come on your own. I could even send a carriage for you if she is worried about your safety.”
“It is not that.” Miss Wayland peered down at her dress. “Mama needs… personal care. The kind she only feels comfortable having her maid or me assist with.”
It was strange seeing the bubbly young woman from the day before so weighed down. Melior sat beside her.
“Would you like me to play something for you?”
Miss Wayland nodded. “It is not often that others play for me.”
Melior chose a lively Scotch air that pulled a smile from the girl. She tapped her foot and clapped her hands to the beat.
“You are very good,” she said when Melior finished.
“Thank you. I should be, with the expensive music tutors my parents hired to teach me.”
“Yes, but you must have practiced to have such precision on the keys.”
Melior grinned. “I did.”
A maid entered letting them know tea had been served in the dowager’s room. Melior linked her arm with Miss Wayland’s as they left the room.
“I have a feeling, Miss Wayland, that you and I are going to be the best of friends.”
The younger woman smiled. “You only say that because I am your closest neighbor near your age.”
“Are you saying Mrs. Peabody is not near our age?”
Miss Wayland laughed at her cheeky remark. “I like you, Lady Stanford. You are nothing like the servants say.”
Melior’s smile fell.
Miss Wayland’s hazel eyes widened. “I did not mean… that is… please forgive me, Lady Stanford. I am not always good with my words.”
Giving her arm a light squeeze, Melior tried to exude an air of nonchalance. “It is not your fault. I did start off a bit brusque here and I forget that servants talk about everything.”
“Not all servants.”
