Nearly a month had passed since the fire at Rutherford Place, an event that had disrupted more than just their plans. With so many personal effects lost and a new venue required, the decision for Reed and Goldie to host the ball at the end of the Season had felt both practical and symbolic—a way to mark new beginnings while saying goodbye to old wounds.
Standing in the receiving line, Melanie could hardly believe how much her life had changed in just a few weeks.
Her mother and Josie, now comfortably ensconced in Standish Hall—a far grander residence than their previous townhouse—had adjusted with relative ease. Caroline and Lord Helton, in a move that perhaps shouldn’t have surprised heras much as it did, had opened their hearts and home to Ernest. They’d brought the idea up with Harry a few short days after Melanie’s recovery at Preston Hall, and now Lord Helton seemed determined to secure every possible benefit for the boy, treating him as a son in every sense but birth.
And Harry… well, he had transformed their engagement period—very real this time—into a courtship for the ages.
“You look beautiful.” His breath brushed the side of her face as they watched the footman pull the door open, allowing the waiting guests to begin streaming in.
Melanie turned her head toward him, her lips curving into a smile. “And you, as always, look magnificent.”
His silver eyes sparkled with something mischievous. “Flattery, my dear fiancée, will get you everywhere.”
Fiancée… he’d made it a point to say that word as often as possible, but it sent a flurry of butterflies dancing every time.
The line moved forward as the guests approached the procession. First, they were to be greeted by her mother, who stood graciously accepting warm congratulations, followed by Josie, and then Caroline and Lord Helton. Melanie and Harry were positioned next, and although Melanie was still somewhat nervous about having to greet so many people, she found herself talking freely, almost forgetting the struggles she’d had in the past year.
Just before the grand entrance into the ballroom, where the butler announced each new arrival, Reed and Goldie stood together, their pride unmistakable. For a moment, Melanie barely recognized her brother—his usual humility replaced by a quiet confidence that made him look every bit the earl he had become. It wasn’t arrogance, but a certain steadiness, as though he knew that he truly belonged in this role.
It was about time!
Harry leaned closer, his voice dropping with words meant only for her. “Let me know if this overwhelms you.”
“I never feel overwhelmed when I’m with you,” she replied honestly, her gaze holding his before another guest approached.
“Never?” His look, in return, could only be described as smoldering.
“Well… Almost never.”
Over the past few weeks, Harry had thrown himself into courting her, taking her on romantic picnics in secluded gardens, the best museums, and—her personal favorite—to visit all manner of nooks and crannies throughout London. Those included hidden antiquarian shops, where the shopkeepers sold rare first editions and manuscripts no one in thetonknew existed, and stores that featured exotic blends of coffee, and then there were the perfume boutiques, and shops that simply featured… oddities.
In addition to squiring her around town, he’d scandalously arranged for London’s most sought-after modiste to design an entire new wardrobe for Melanie at his expense. The appointments were tedious at times, but could also be undeniably thrilling—each new creation a tangible symbol of her transformation into a duchess.
Every day seemed to bring a new adventure, each one more exciting and enlightening than the last. Through it all, Harry shared pieces of himself without even meaning to, opening windows into his world that Melanie had never imagined.
Yet, amidst the whirlwind of discovery, there were moments when the excitement settled, giving way to the serious matters that defined their future together. One such moment came when they sat down in his study to discuss the one issue Melanie had been uneasy about, but resolved herself to accept—his management of a brothel.
Melanie hadn’t realized that in the initial negotiations over their betrothal—the one that had only been meant to be temporary—Harry had promised Reed that, as Melanie’s husband, he would distance himself from theDomus Emporium.
“But you’ve worked years building it,” Melanie had replied carefully. She’d been troubled to think he’d be giving up something important because of a coerced promise. At the same time, she couldn’t deny that his involvement, his constant presence at a brothel, hadn’t troubled her. Still… “I trust you,” she’d told him. And she’d meant it.
But Harry had frowned, looking thoughtful. “I knew, when I considered keeping Ernest, that I couldn’t be a proper father—not while managing a place that, although intended as a refuge for some, could also be a place of… despair. Of darkness.”
Melanie’s breath had caught. He understood. Of course he understood.
“But you could have,” she’d argued. He could do whatever he set out to do.
“In theory, perhaps. But no matter my reasons, by association, my son, our future children, would be painted unfairly. The same as my wife would be. Your brother was right to make such a demand.” He’d swallowed hard. “At one time, I could believe theDomuswas my future, but I’ve learned… I can have so much more. We can have so much more.”
“I don’t want you to change for me. I want the man I fell in love with.”
“And that’s exactly what you’re going to get. Minus the brothel.”
Their conversations had evolved from there, exploring new ideas and solutions for helping London’s less fortunate. As they revisited those plans almost daily, Melanie learned somethingelse—that even before they’d met, Harry had begun to grow weary of his role at theDomus.
One afternoon, she’d asked him, “Do you think you’ll regret leaving it behind?”
His answer had come without hesitation. “It’s already a part of my past. You, sweetheart, are my future.”
