“What decision?” he repeated, this time more gently.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m marrying Charles and glad of it.”
“If you are glad, then I am glad,” he said, shocked that he didn’t choke on those words. “I only want you to be happy.”
She swallowed, and looked down at her arm, where his hand still lay like a manacle holding her in place. “Then let me go,” she said, bringing her clear gaze up to his. There was a wealth of meaning in those words, and John felt his heart beating leadenly in his chest as he dropped his hand. He could have held on. He could have kissed her. He could have told her he loved her and would do anything for them to be together. Instead, he stepped back and walked away without uttering another word.
Melissa, nervous beyond words, stood by her uncle and greeted Charles and his parents, Lord and Lady Hartley. Their greeting was warm and welcoming, and Melissa knew instantly Charles had said nothing about her birth. She wasn’t certain whether she was grateful or bothered that he’d kept it from them. It was probably best, she thought. Though Charles had insisted they wouldn’t mind about her birth, Melissa knew they would have. And in the end, so had Charles, apparently.
Lord Hartley looked like an older version of Charles. He was still a handsome man, younger than Melissa had imagined, and just beginning to grow thicker about his waist. Melissa could tell that his hair, now shot with gray, had once been the same hue as Charles’s. His mother was petite, with lively brown eyes and an enormous amount of dark brown hair piled artlessly atop her head. Melissa liked her instantly. Even though Laura took after her father more, Melissa felt the same warmth from the mother as she had from Laura. Her uncle had been right—they put on no airs at all, but she couldn’t help wondering whether their attitudes would change if they knew the truth. It was such a terrible thought to have, but it somehow entered her mind as she smiled back at her future in-laws. She told herself it would be nice to be part of this family, to have a sister and a husband and people she could come to love as a mother and father.
But then John walked into the large foyer dressed immaculately in a black coat, forest green vest, and dark gray trousers, and her heart felt as if it stopped. He gave her a grim smile, before smiling in earnest while greeting Lord and Lady Hartley. Clearly, they were all good friends. How nice that she would be able to visit with John and her uncle, that everything would be so amiable, that she would be able to break her heart over and over again.
Melissa smiled and forced herself to stop her torturous thoughts. Why couldn’t she be happy that a good man with a warm and welcoming family had asked her to marry him? She wished she could simply turn off her feelings for John, that the three weeks they’d been apart had proven to her that what she had felt had been nothing more than her first infatuation with a man who’d paid attention to her. She knew it was possible that the entire newness of feeling desire, of being desired, was enough to make her believe she was in love. After all, she had so little experience with such feelings.
Her uncle led the small group to the parlor, and Melissa listened as they chatted about a new grain mill being built on Braddock’s property in Flintwood.
“Charles tells us you spent your childhood in Bamburgh,” Lady Hartley said. “How exciting London must seem to you.”
“Oh, yes,” Melissa said. “It’s a bit overwhelming at times, but I am getting used to the noise and crowds. Your son has been an excellent guide.”
“I must say, this is all very exciting for us all. I truly despaired of seeing Charles marry,” Lady Hartley said with a fond look at her son. “I can hardly wait to tell my friends, though I do understand the need for postponing the announcement. I’m afraid the news will cause quite a flurry of activity surrounding you, and Charles tells me you are not quite ready for all the hubbub.”
“I don’t know if I shall ever be ready,” Melissa said, smiling down at the older woman.
“None of us ever is, my dear,” Lady Hartley said kindly.
The two families were comfortably ensconced in the home’s most formal parlor, Charles sitting next to her on a settee, the two elder men standing by the fire, with Miss Stanhope and Lady Hartley sitting across from the young couple in a pair of matching wingback chairs. John stood slightly apart by a tall window, staring out at the traffic as it rolled down Piccadilly.
“So, John,” Lord Hartley called out jovially, craning his neck to look back at John. “With Charles biting the bullet of matrimony, you’re next, eh?”
“I do believe I will forgo the institution if at all possible,” John said, still looking idly out the window.
“But you must marry,” Charles said. “My children will need cousins to play with.”
A muscle twitched in John’s jaw before he turned and gave Charles an easy grin. “I’m certain Laura will provide plenty of playmates for your children. I do believe she’s already named all four of them.”
Charles laughed, and Lady Hartley frowned mightily. “I do wish Laura would stop telling everyone she meets that she is nearly engaged. What if it doesn’t happen? The poor girl will be humiliated.”
“I don’t believe she’s even given that possibility a passing thought,” Charles said. “Where is the girl, anyway?”
Lady Hartley looked a bit uneasy at the question. “She was supposed to have attended a play with Brewster, but he cried off at the last minute, claiming he had to remain home to help his ill mother.”
The men in the room gave one another a knowing look that Melissa didn’t understand. “Mama’s boy,” Charles said.
“Charles, really. There is nothing wrong with a young man’s attending his mother. If I became ill, I would think it quite nice of you to stay home with me.”
“Really, Mother?” Charles asked, raising one brow, and Melissa smiled. Charles, she realized, was much more amusing to be with when they were in a crowd. He was witty and intelligent, and these attributes showed even more when with others. It was only when they were alone that Melissa found him less than desirable. Perhaps, she thought with sudden insight, he was nervous when it was just the two of them. Why anyone would be nervous around her, she didn’t know, but perhaps that explained why he was so charming in a crowd.
Lady Hartley gave in with a laugh. “I suppose most men would not stay home with their mothers.”
“Especially when he could be out with someone as lovely as Laura. I think I should call him out for changing their plans so abruptly.”
“Yes, a duel for a broken appointment,” John said as if mulling the possibility. “Pistols at dawn or swords, do you think?”
“Fisticuffs,” Lord Hartley said, joining in the banter.
Melissa hid a smile and looked over at John, and was startled to see he was staring at her. He averted his eyes, but not before she saw the heat of his gaze. She flushed, a rather shocking rush of desire sweeping quickly through her, and she moved uncomfortably in her seat. She reminded herself forcefully that lust was not love. She knew John desired her, but he did not love her, and
he
had not asked her to marry him. Certainly, she should not be having carnal thoughts about John when she was sitting next to her intended.
“Surely a broken appointment doesn’t call for a duel,” Melissa said.
“Of course not. They are simply being foolish men,” Lady Hartley said.
The conversation turned to the coming season, with speculation about whether Laura would truly be engaged by the end of it. Melissa had thought, given Laura’s complete confidence in the matter, that her marriage to Lord Brewster was a foregone conclusion. But she realized Lady Hartley was not as convinced about either a forthcoming engagement or whether Brewster would be a good match for her daughter. Melissa found this fascinating, the interaction of the group, the dynamics between Charles and his parents.
She felt quite like she was a scientist observing animals in their natural habitat, rather than a participant. Her own family life had been so very strange compared to anything that occurred outside her sheltered life in Bamburgh. For all her life, she’d thought it completely normal to have a father visit her once or twice a week. While she had adored her father, theirs had been a formal relationship compared to the warmth she detected between John and his father and Charles and his parents. As they talked about various topics, the conversation was often interrupted by hearty laughter and amusing side stories, and Melissa was delighted by it all.
It made the prospect of marrying Charles far more attractive. She would be part of his family. She would be their daughter; she would have a sister to gossip with, a mother to shop with. Even if she never came to love Charles, she at least could be content to be part of such a family.
Her gaze went to John, standing so still and stiff by the window. He was probably bored by this ritual, forced to attend this dinner when he likely had other, far more interesting amusements awaiting him in Town. She wished, briefly and fiercely, that he was the one sitting next to her.
Because no matter how hard she tried, she could not picture herself married to Charles, breakfasting with him each morning. Making love. She could not picture their children, those little golden-haired babies with brown eyes and broad smiles. Perhaps it was because she’d had so little contact with children. Or perhaps she simply did not want to picture children who looked like Charles when what she truly wanted was a little boy with chocolate-colored hair and bright gray eyes.
The group was enjoying a witty tale delivered by Charles, when Darling came loping in. She’d grown from a roly-poly puppy to an awkward, gangling girl, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth as if smiling and happy to see her mistress.
“Oh, my,” Lady Hartley said when Darling put her front paws on Melissa’s knees.
Melissa, oblivious to Charles’s disapproving look, bent over and let Darling slather her cheek with devoted kisses as she laughed.
Charles snapped his fingers and gestured to the dog, and a footman hurried over to take Darling.
“Oh, she can stay. She adores people,” Melissa said. “Don’t you, Darling?” She scrubbed the dog’s ears, and Darling closed her eyes in doggy bliss.
“Don’t tell me you allow this animal in the house,” Charles said, his comment directed to John.
“I can’t tear them apart,” John said, smiling warmly at Melissa.
“Animals belong outdoors,” Charles said, his tone level and assured. It was as if he were talking about trees or chipmunks, as if there could be no argument.
“Not Darling,” Melissa said, a bit of coolness entering her tone. “She’d be so lonely. Wouldn’t you?”
“I think you should get used to the idea that she cannot be in the house, Melissa.”
Melissa turned to Charles and smiled brightly. “And you should get used to the idea that Darling belongs with me. I don’t plan to sleep in the barn or the kennel.”
John let out a laugh, and Charles glared at him.
“I wonder who will win this little argument,” Lady Hartley said, half amused by their tiff.
“We’ll discuss this later, shall we?” Charles asked stiffly, and Melissa felt an unaccountable surge of anger.
“As there is nothing to discuss, I don’t see the point,” she said sweetly. Darling, who’d been leaning against Melissa’s knees, no doubt getting dog fur all over her gown, looked back at her with complete devotion.
“John, talk some sense into your cousin,” Charles said, sounding slightly flabbergasted.
John grinned. “As you can clearly see, I’ve already lost this argument.”
“That’s because you are not firm enough,” Charles muttered, but Melissa heard him clearly.
John heard him, too, but he chose to ignore his friend. He didn’t know whether he was bothered because he felt Charles was wrong or because Charles believed he could enforce his rigid rules on Melissa. Or was it that he was sitting too close to the woman John loved? He hoped Melissa could hold her own against Charles. His friend was a stubborn man who felt his opinion was not, in fact, simply an opinion. John and he often had heated arguments about one matter or another, with Charles rarely being swayed from his original stance.
John only knew that if Charles upset Melissa one more time, if he caused that little crease to form in her forehead, if he tried to exert his power over her, John just might make a fool of himself by losing his own temper.
As the new family group chatted and got to know one another, John watched Melissa. He stood behind the others, so no one but Charles could see his perusal, and he was careful to look away when Charles looked up at him. He didn’t know why he was here, didn’t know why he was torturing himself. Perhaps it was to reassure himself Melissa would be welcomed. He liked the Norrises quite a lot. Growing up, he’d spent numerous hours at their estate and had learned a great deal from Lord Hartley about horses and good breeding practices. His own father was very much a city man, whose interests were almost entirely in legislative and political matters. John had political interests, but he found he was just as happy in the country dealing with estate matters as he was in London.
Yes, Melissa would be with a good family. But that thought gave him no comfort, when all he truly wanted was for her to be with him.