He was accompanied by Sir Robert, who was saying to Catherine and Mrs. Eardley when Melly came downstairs that he'd begged to accompany them. "Linton thought to have three lovely ladies all to himself, but that's pure greed, and so I told him. He asked me what delicacies you might like, so I had to provide my expertise. Ah, Miss Eardley, good morning."
He bowed to Melly.
Melly focused on Sir Robert, and curtsied. She avoided looking at Linton, and she wasn't sure why. She hadn't seen him since their ride in Hyde Park on Tuesday. Finally, when Linton moved to stand in front of her, she met his gaze.
He lifted her to her feet, his hand warm around hers, and smiled at her.
Melly's heart skipped a beat. She couldn't prevent the warmth rising to her face, and later had no idea what he'd said to her, or what she said in response. He kept her hand until Henry skipped downstairs.
"Linton — which horses will we ride?"
He released Melly to speak with Henry.
Linton had provided two large carriages, one for him, Sir Robert and the ladies, and the other for their servants. Another carriage with servants had gone ahead to prepare their picnic.
Henry did all of the talking on their way to the park, chatting happily with Linton and Sir Robert, and Melly was glad of it. She and Anne sat at a window, with Henry between them. The two men sat opposite. She pretended great interest in what she saw outside, but she was intently focused on Lord Linton, and wondered at herself.
Did she want an engagement between them? She shouldn't, she knew that. She already liked him more than she should.
Perhaps he had changed his mind about the engagement.
She soon learned that he hadn't however. When they reached the park, nothing would do but Henry must see the horses, and ride immediately. When he lifted Melly onto her horse — a very pretty dappled grey mare — he murmured: "I haven't changed my mind Mel — have you?"
Before she could think, she said: "No. No, I haven't."
He smiled then, and looked genuinely happy. He wants this engagement as much as I do, Melly thought in wonder.
Within ten minutes, Henry had found an open meadow where she could try her horse's paces. Anne followed her, after casting a glance at Melly and Linton.
"Walk with me, Mel," he said.
He waved a groom forward, to take the horses. The other groom had followed the ladies.
By the time he'd dismounted, Melly was on the ground. She handed her reins to the groom.
Linton offered Melly his arm, then waited for the groom to lead their horses out of earshot. "Well my dear — your mother spoke with you?"
"Do you wish to reconsider, my lord?" The words leapt from her, before she had a chance to consider them.
"No, Mel, I do not. I wish to proceed, but will we wait a month? Or until Lady Burnley fires the next shot in this war?"
He didn't sound concerned, she thought, admiring his forbearance. She reminded herself that she had started this. "It's all my fault. I misunderstood Pierce… Everyone told me that —"
He squeezed her fingers on his sleeve. "Nothing is your fault. It's Talverne. I suggested that he come up to town, and leave Christobel to his mother, but he's stubborn. He's shocked by the revelation about Carradine… His mother knew, and that's caused an estrangement between them. It's a tangle, and you have nothing to do with it."
They walked in silence for a time, watching Henry trying out her horse's paces on the meadow. Then Henry changed horses with Anne.
The silence between her and Linton was comfortable, Melly thought. She was becoming used to him. She also knew that she was becoming too attached to him than was wise. It's a pretense, she reminded herself.
After their picnic, Henry insisted on riding again. Anne refused, and she and Sir Robert settled on a rug to play cards.
Linton asked Melly to walk with him, or would she prefer to ride?
She wanted to walk. She felt happy. Henry was thrilled with Linton's horses. Anne was smiling and laughing with Sir Robert.
Linton tucked her hand into his elbow. "Come."
"Thank you," Melly said. "I'm enjoying the day, and I know that Anne and Henry are, as well — it's most kind of you, Linton."
"Mel, my dear…" he paused, and looked down at her.
There was an expression she couldn't read in his gaze.
"You do realize that there's nothing I would not do for you, don't you?"
Her eyes widened.
He chuckled. "What? I'm very fond of you Mel, surely that isn't a surprise? I've never asked anyone else to marry me."
"You haven't asked me either, strictly speaking," Melly said crisply. "You asked me accept a betrothal."
He sighed, and his quick grin was wicked. "Very well then. I've never asked anyone else to become betrothed to me, either." He chuckled.
She flushed, and then cleared her throat.
They walked around the perimeter of a lake. For the moment, no one else was in sight. She'd seen families and groups of people picnicking in the distance, and riders and carriages, but for the moment, she and Linton were alone.
"I sent a letter to my grandmother at Watton Park. It's the family pile, and not far from London. She will invite you and your family to visit."
"Does Lady Linton know that — that it's a pretend betrothal, not a real one?"
Linton's parents were dead, she knew. His parents had both died of a fever while he was in India. She had been introduced to the dowager countess once, at Anne's wedding to Kingston. She doubted that that august personage would remember her. She'd only gained an impression of a stern-faced, elderly woman, wearing diamonds, dressed in an old-fashioned grey gown.
How could she lie to Lady Linton? She couldn't do it, and she had to tell him. "Linton — I can't lie to the dowager countess."
He stopped walking, and she turned to face him. He studied her face for a moment, and said gently: "What if you were to consider our betrothal to be real? I assure you that I shall think of it as real… Or would you prefer me to tell my grandmother of our scheme?"
"Yes, I would like her to know." Her family knew, and his grandmother had to know too. "Please tell her — it's important to me."
He lifted his hands, and framed her face in them. His hands were very warm.
She couldn't look away, even as his head lowered to hers.
His lips were soft, and she was surprised at that. His breath touched her face, and she breathed him in. Her eyes closed.
Slowly, his lips moved against hers, beginning a delicious tingling which started low in her body. What was it? She'd never felt anything like it before, and it was wonderful.
Although she knew that she should move away, she didn't. Instead, she inched closer to him. Without being conscious of it, she lifted her hands to touch his.
She felt him smile against her lips.
When she opened her eyes, she saw that his eyes were more green than grey, and the strange feelings in her body grew more intense.
Somehow, that was frightening. She gripped his hands and pushed them away, then stepped back, and looked up at him. Why was she trembling?
She looked away from him, trying to gather her wits.
"Melly — have you ever been kissed? Did Pierce kiss you?"
Heat burned through her. She could feel the blush prickling, as it began at her neck and moved up her forehead. Pierce had kissed her, but it hadn't felt like that. "We need to return. Anne will be wondering…"
Without looking back at him, she walked briskly back the way they'd come.
Major Grove
Before Linton and Melly returned to Anne and Sir Robert, he told her that he would be spending a week at Watton Park, on estate business.
The carriage ride from Richmond to London passed in a daze for Melly. Linton wasn't in the carriage. Henry wanted to ride, so Linton rode too. A part of Melly was relieved that she wouldn't see him for a week, although she quailed at the thought that he'd tell Lady Linton of his proposed — but faux, b
etrothal.
How could she face that lady? Although she tried to push the kiss from her mind, she relived it over and over again. She shivered whenever she remembered the way tender way that Linton's lips had touched hers.
Catherine noticed Melly's distracted air. "What on earth is the matter? Did you take too much sun? I warned you to carry a parasol on your walk with Linton."
Melly forced a smile. "I ate too much, and the fresh air made me tired. I shall sleep well tonight."
She hardly slept at all, because she was trying to come to a decision. A part of her wanted to call off all hints of the faux betrothal. She would spend too much time in Lord Linton's company. She didn't ask herself why the thought of that made her both happy and terrified. Another part of her worried about Lady Burnley and Catherine. And Lady Linton — what would the dowager countess think?
Tired and cross, Melly rose early next morning. She'd hardly slept. She would ride. Riding always made her feel better.
No one else was up. She asked for her Arabian mare, Daisy, to be brought up from the stables. Henry had insisted that their favorite hacks be brought to town — she flatly refused to contemplate London without her horses.
In the early hours, the park was mostly empty of the ton. As always in summer, fashionable families retired to their vast country estates to escape the heat and smells.
This morning in the park, several riders rode, but there was no social interaction with their peers. These were serious riders, focused on their mounts. Grooms exercised strings of horses.
When Melly returned to Eardley House, she joined Mrs. Eardley and Catherine at breakfast. Anne had departed to Kingston House, to be there when furniture was delivered, and Henry was at the stables.
Mrs. Eardley studied calling cards and invitations. "I don't see how I'm to get everything done this week. Melly, my love, Catherine and I must return calls on Monday — but I've errands. If I made a list, could you do some shopping for me? Take a maid and a footman. Bunny will accompany you as a chaperon… You can't be seen in Bond Street without a chaperon."
Catherine rolled her eyes. "No, we wouldn't want to cause a scandal," she said drily.
"Do be quiet, Catherine — let me think."
"With Bunny?" Melly shook her head. "No."
Mrs. Eardley's sister, Mrs. Smythe-Hamill, known as "Bunny" to everyone, had joined them from York. She'd married a wealthy cit, and visited her sister a few times a year. Melly liked her aunt, but Bunny took shopping seriously. She could spend a twenty pounds in ten minutes.
"Bunny must accompany you my dear — I insist," Mrs. Eardley cast her a chiding glance.
"It's only for the look of the thing," Catherine assured her. "Just leave Bunny to do her shopping, and do Mother's errands. If you're seen without her, we can state that you had a chaperon, and would never be so fast that you'd attempt Bond Street without one."
"Shopping, lovely," Bunny chirped at Melly when she came downstairs on Monday.
Her aunt was dressed in a cream muslin gown embroidered at the hem. The gown had scarlet trimmings and a scarlet sash, matched by short scarlet pelisse. When Melly complimented her, Bunny laughed. "My dear, I've had this gown for years, I promise you. It's sadly out of date. I mean to give it to my maid, but it will do for our expedition today. We'll go to Bond Street first, I want to look at some jewelry."
After an hour in a jewelry shop, Melly told her aunt that she meant to collect Mrs. Eardley's watch from the watchmaker a few doors away.
"Take the maid, I shan't finish here for another few minutes," Bunny said. She was distracted by a glittering tray of diamond rings the assistant placed in front of her.
Emerging from the jewelers, Melly stopped and dug in her small bag for the watch's receipt. When she looked up, she immediately recognized two figures directly on the other side of the street: Lady Ashby, and Major Grove. She gasped.
"What is it, ma'am?" Her maid asked.
"Bessie, look across the street… I can't be mistaken. That's Major Grove, walking with the lady in the blue bonnet?" Bessie would recognize the major. She'd been Catherine's maid before Catherine asked her to prepare Melly for her season.
Major Grove and his fashionable companion were strolling along the street, for all the world as if the major were a Bond Street Lounger.
"I think it is, ma'am — yes, that's the major," Bessie pressed her lips together. "I'd know him and his red hair anywhere. Always looks as if he's dressed in the dark when he's not wearing regimentals."
"Come," Melly said, prodding her maid.
"Mrs. Grove doesn't know he's in London," Bessie said. "Here's the watchmaker's."
Melly glanced up and watched as Major Grove and his companion continued down the busy street, then passed out of her sight, blocked from view by other pedestrians.
Melly grabbed Bessie's arm, and shoved her through the shop doors.
She gave the receipt to the young man on the other side of the counter, then turned to Bessie. "We didn't see anyone," she told Bessie softly.
"No. No, not a soul," Bessie said. Her eyes were wide and frightened.
Melly took a deep breath. If Catherine had been aware that the major was in London, she would have said. So Catherine didn't know. And he was with Lady Ashby. Oh no… Everyone knew that Major Grove was a womanizer.
Although Catherine rarely mentioned her husband, the servants talked.
"Not a word to anyone. Not to Catherine, nor Bunny, nor Mother. Not even to Anne. No one must know."
"I won't say anything, ma'am — but he's here, in London. Someone will tell Mrs. Grove."
Melly was aware of that. She was also aware that that would lead to an explosion.
Two days passed. Melly began to think that she'd been mistaken — she'd seen Lady Ashby on Bond Street in the company of a man who merely looked like Major Grove. So she dismissed the major from her mind.
She had other things to think about, and those things all concerned Lord Linton. She hadn't seen him in three days. No matter what she did he popped into her mind again and again. She might be speaking with her sisters, or paying a call on someone, or as had happened the previous evening, attending a musicale.
She missed him. The realization shocked her. Not only was she becoming attached to Linton, she missed him. She told herself not to be foolish, but that had no effect.
On Wednesday, Catherine, Henry, Bunny, and Mrs. Eardley accompanied Anne to Kingston House. Anne was interviewing new staff with her new butler and housekeeper. The women intended paying several calls on their way. Henry's loud protests that she hated calling on people she didn't know availed her nothing.
"Henrietta — if I have to pull you by the ear, you're coming," Catherine snapped. "The Armitages have two daughters around your age. And three sons too. You will make friends in London."
Only a few minutes had passed since Melly waved farewell to her family when someone knocked loudly on the front door. She was on her way upstairs, and paused on the staircase. A seamstress was calling, but that wasn't for another hour. Besides, the seamstresses used the servants' entry doors at the back of the house.
"Very well, I will see whether the family is at home," Mr. Morley said, then closed the front door again.
"Who is it?"
"A person from a newspaper, ma'am — The Examiner." Morley flushed. "I would send the person on his way… But it concerns Mrs. Grove, ma'am."
Melly felt the blood leaving her face. The major, and Lady Ashby. She could read the headlines already… From War To Lady A___'s Perfumed Bed perhaps, or The Major And The Courtesan. "My heavens, I'd better speak with him. Give me a moment, and I'll see him in the small drawing room."
She realized that it had only been a matter of time before Catherine found out that Major Grove was in London, but she'd expected that she'd find out because the servants of the houses in Grosvenor Square talked among themselves. Or someone mentioned seeing him. But a newspaper? She had to put the man off. Somehow.
So �
� Lady Burnley had fired the next cannon in her war on the Eardleys. She had to be behind it. Servants' gossip might win a line or two, but The Examiner meant to publish a story, and that meant that they had information from someone of consequence.
Melly firmed her back and went to wait in the small drawing room. She had to see this person to learn what he intended printing.
8. Scandal
The headline in The Examiner on Thursday morning proved to be worse than Melly expected. And so was the story, which took up a complete page of the newspaper. It included an illustration.
Melly read the headline in horror — Major G__'s Spoils Of War, Rubies And Diamonds For His New Love.
She sent Bessie out to buy the paper at dawn, then read it in bed, sipping her chocolate. And was sorely tempted to send Bessie to Morley for a tot of rum to put in it to calm her nerves.
The previous day, although the reporter had asked pointed questions, he'd refused to reveal anything at all. Instead, he'd stared at her and then blushed, his neck, face and ears scarlet red. He stared at Melly, realized what he was doing, then looked away again quickly.
She'd tried to bribe him with an offer of a hundred pounds not to write the story. It was a lot of money, but he'd merely blushed harder. Color came and went in his face; that the man might well have been a chameleon.
Desperately — although she kept her countenance unruffled she hoped — she offered two hundred pounds. He kept asking questions. He asked her to verify statements made by the major. She had no idea how she could do that, and said so.
The story stated that Mrs. Grove had separated from Major Grove. Was that true? The paper had comments from the major, who said that he and his wife had differences.
Oh no… She longed to shake the major, or kick him, hard. How could he have brought this hell down on them? Differences?
The ink-stained wretch had even mentioned her in the story. Melly blushed when she read:
"This reporter spoke to Miss Eardley, the younger sister of Mrs. Grove. Miss Eardley is a young lady who is loveliness and grace personified. She is a goddess come down to earth, and sure to set the town ablaze this coming season."
The Lady and the Rake: A Scandalous Arrangement (The Eardleys of Gostwicke Hall Book 1) Page 9