Page 97 of Rescued from Betrayal
Watching Melior brush out her long dark hair by firelight was enchanting. Nathaniel tried to pretend he was not looking, hiding his face behind a book, but by the pink in her cheeks he knew he was failing.
She’d readied for bed after they returned, but her hair still needed to dry before sleeping, so she’d dismissed the housemaid and set to brushing it herself.
“You know,” she said, “it is awfully hard to read a book when it is upside down.”
His head whipped back to the pages of his book and he realized it was indeed the wrong direction.
“I thought you said you could not see well.”
“Up close, yes, but you are not that near.”
“Next time I shall have to sit on your lap so it will be indiscernible,” he grumbled.
She chuckled. “Yes, but that would hamper your view.”
Dash it all, she had noticed. “Can I help it if you have the most beautiful hair in all of England?”
She ducked her head. “Thank you. I believe it is almost dry.”
Setting down the brush, she began plaiting. He wanted to protest, wishing she’d leave it free, but it was late and they needed to sleep.
He set his book down and stood, meaning to retrieve his nightshirt, but the tremble in Melior’s hand as she came to the end of her hair caught his attention.
“Are you still cold?”
“No.”
“But you are shaking.”
She fumbled with the ribbon she used to tie her hair. “I am fine.”
He kneeled before her and placed a hand over hers. “Allow me.” He removed the blue linen from her grasp and tied it around the end of her hair. When he glanced up there were tears in her eyes.
“Mel, what is the matter?”
She shook her head and a tear escaped. He stood and slipping his arms around her, lifted her into his lap as he sat. Her shoulders vibrated under his touch as she tried to contain her sobs.
“You can tell me, Melior.”
“It is just…” she sucked in a breath and let out a mewing sound.
He began rocking her gently. “Tonight was trying. There is no shame in being overwhelmed by it all.”
“I could have been friends with Lady Jane,” she sobbed. “If my mother had not indoctrinated me to look down upon others, to see any lady of equal standing and beauty as competition, perhaps I would have had more true friends. Instead, I got Edith.”
Melior’s tears cut off her words. Having removed his coat when he’d entered the room, Nathaniel had no handkerchief to hand her. So, keeping one arm behind her back, he untied his cravat and dabbed her face. Then he tucked it into her curled hand. She grasped it fiercely. He wrapped his other arm around her and held her close.
“How could she be so heartless?” she choked out.
“Edith or your mother?”
“Both.”
He began rocking her again, not sure how to answer. How could women who claimed such close association to Melior, who should have loved her, treat her so abominably?
“If it were not… for my mother…” Melior turned her face into his chest, flinging her arms about his neck. She sobbed something unintelligible and his heart ached for her.
After rubbing her back a moment, he decided it would be best if she were in bed. Tears like this could wear a body out faster than a three-legged race. Plus, if she gave herself a headache again she’d be more comfortable lying on her pillow.
