Not bothering to wait for a reply, Melody sailed forward into the crowd, leaving the flabbergasted Lady Jenkins and her maudlin friend behind. The crowd did not knock Melody over, as they had in previous balls. She wasn’t crowded or crushed. In fact, a little bubble of space opened up around her.
Papa hadn’t said much to her since her return, except for a flat, annoyed comment that she had ruined herself as much as her sister and that Lord Sinclair wouldn’t have her now.
Really, her papa seemed most annoyed at having his well-laid plans disrupted, rather than the prospect of his daughter being ruined. Perhaps Melody should have cared more abouthislack of care, but really, she did not have the energy.
She had just reached the other side of the ballroom when, out of nowhere, a pair of beribboned ladies descended on her, dressed in matching cake-topping dresses of palest lilac. It was the Marzipan Twins, nearly drowning in flounces and frills.
“We shall have to be quick,” gasped Green Eyes. “Mama said that we’re not to talk to you at all at this party, even though your Papa is hosting it.”
“Mama said that you werefast,” Blue Eyes agreed, “and that an engagement to a Scottish lord means that your reputation is ruined.”
“I see,” Melody responded woodenly, sinking down onto a seat. “What is it you want to say to me, ladies?”
The twins glanced at each other.
“Well, we want to know if you got a proper picture of the man, of course,” Green Eyes responded. “That is why you went.”
Melody bit the inside of her cheek until it stung. She hoped that the pain in her mouth would distract her from the stinging in her eyes and the sensation that her chest was about to crumble inward at any moment. But then, what did it matter if she burst into tears at a ball? What did any of it matter?
“I’m afraid I have lost the bet, ladies,” she managed to respond. A single tear crawled down her cheek, followed rapidly by a second, and a third.
The Marzipan Twins flinched, visibly shocked by the sight of tears.
“Oh, you mustn’t cry,” Blue Eyes managed lamely. “Here, take this.”
She withdrew a handkerchief that was more lace and frills than anything else, perfumed heavily enough to make Melody’s throat sting. She took the handkerchief anyway.
“What is going on over here? Oh, for heaven’s sake, you two, give her some air!” came a familiar voice. The Marzipan Twins were unceremoniously elbowed aside and then shooed away.
“Emma,” Melody managed, sniffing.
Emma glared at the twins. Blue Eyes assured Melody that she could keep the handkerchief, then they disappeared into the crowd, arm in arm.
“Well,” Emma said at last, her voice becoming a little softer. “I know that you found who you were looking for. Did you say you lost your bet?”
Melody nodded tightly. “Yes, and no. I found him, and he’s no monster. I didn’t bring a painting home, however.”
Emma glowered at a rabbity young man until he paled and scrambled to his feet, offering her his seat. She sank down grandly beside Melody and took her hand.
“Victoria is my closest friend,” she said carefully, after a moment of silence. “She writes to me frequently, as you know. She… she told me much of what happened between you and Laird MacDean. Not all of it, not by any stretch, but enough for me to draw some conclusions. You were close to him, weren’t you?”
Melody squeezed her eyes closed and nodded wordlessly.
“Leaving was the right thing for me to do,” she whispered tautly. “I have no doubt of that. But I did not imagine… I did not imagine how difficult it would be. Oh, Emma, what am I to do? How can I continue with my life? Everything seems so colorless, sodrab. I cannot summon up any interest inanything,and already I feel as though my life is over.”
Emma sighed, squeezing Melody’s hand. “Well, I have never been in love, so I cannot say. It is Victoria’s advice you should seek.”
“It takes days, if not weeks, for letters to pass between us,” Melody sniffed, blotting her tears on Blue Eyes’ pungent handkerchief. “Wait, in love? Is that what this was? That man, Laird MacDean, was no monster. He was just an ordinary man, a man I cannot stop thinking about. I… I cannot shake the feeling that I’ve made a terrible mistake, Emma.”
“Oh, my darling girl. But nothing is permanent, you know. With time, your life here will be more palatable. You’ll get used to it again. You’ll find happiness. I shall be here, and I shall help you. Your papa will forgive you, society will forget, and soon, it will be as if you never methimat all.”
Emma spoke confidently, and Melody had no doubt at all that her friend believed her own words.
But I don’t,she thought miserably. Time did indeed heal all wounds, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it would not heal this one. No, it was too late for her now. The poets were right—love was a wretched thing, the sort of thing that left one entirely helpless.
Could I have done better? Perhaps. Will I have another chance? No, I will not.
She closed her eyes, swallowing hard and concentrating on regaining her composure. Her name would be in every scandal sheet in London, just as it had since the day it was known that she had returned home. She had no intention of giving the gossips something to talk about. She would compose herself, soothe her tears, straighten her spine, and then…
