She was innocent, and he… quite the opposite.
And with Melanie, things were already far too complicated.
Yet, as he replayed the moment in his mind, a stubborn part of him couldn’t shake the faint, almost haunting regret… that he’d not seized the opportunity.
Upon rising, he turned her so they both faced her family, guiding her hand to rest on his arm.
“Shall we go?”
“Yes.” She sounded breathless.
But of course, escaping her mother wouldn’t be that easy…
Lady Roland approached, her smile a little too candid as her gaze flicked between Melanie and Malum. “Take all the time you wish,” she encouraged. “Hyde Park is sure to be lively at this hour, and you’ll want everyone to see the two of you.”
“Mother.” His fiancée spoke through clenched teeth.
Lady Roland’s brows shot up in feigned injury. “What? You’re marrying a duke, why wouldn’t you want everyone to see you?” Her eyes glimmered, and her smile turned almost hard. “Especially Lady Varley. Remember how she disparaged Caroline when she landed Lord Helton? At the onset of the Season, you know, she confided to Lady Hubble her doubts that either you or Josie would be able to land a husband at all. And if you did, she said, he’d have pockets to let. So, if you do cross paths with the baroness, tell her I said hello, will you?”
“Oh, Mother, I doubt we’ll?—"
“But of course,” Malum replied smoothly. “Your daughter will be sufficiently paraded, so that all of Society takes note that her betrothed is indeed besotted.” The older woman stared backat him, still smiling but with a hint of uncertainty. Malum turned his attention back to Melanie. “Is there anything you need before we go out? A wrap?”
“Oh…” Before she could answer, her sister rushed across to hand her a lacy parasol and an almost gossamer shawl. “Thank you, Josie.”
Melanie was definitely eager to leave; the second she secured her accessories, her eyes darted toward the door.
Not bothering with further niceties, Malum allowed her to all but drag him outside and down the front steps.
“Harry?”he demanded just as the door closed behind them.
She glanced up at him, her eyes dancing with a hint of mischief, and Malum couldn’t help but notice the sudden change in her demeanor.
“You gave me permission, did you not?”
They both knew he had not, but before he could respond, she turned her attention to the vehicle awaiting them at the curb, her bravado faltering as she eyed the sleek black, very tall curricle. “I expected… well, a barouche. Don’t most ladies ride in something more… sedate?”
“This is better,” Malum replied. He then dismissed the groom with a brief nod and offered Melanie a hand. Only hesitating a moment, she lifted her skirts and stepped onto the wheel, and then the floor of the box, perching herself on the high bench seat.
“We’ll have the advantage of looking down on the others as we go,” he said, walking around to the opposite side. “And when we’ve had our fill of idle chatter, we can make a swift escape.”
A subtle, almost wicked smile tugged at her lips and he knew she wouldn’t argue with his reasoning. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she murmured.
He climbed up, settling beside her and reaching for the reins. The quiet hum of the city surrounded them, a reminder that, for the first time, they would intentionally face thetontogether.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked, leaning down slightly, his voice low, trying to maintain their act even now.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. And then, looking a little more certain, she nodded.
With a flick of the reins, the horses started forward, and the curricle rolled along Regent Street, where tailors, milliners, and jewelers stood in neat rows, windows filled with all manner of displays hoping to lure shoppers inside.
“I forgot to mention, when I came to your—when we spoke in the…earlier,” she, Lady Melanie Rutherford, was practically babbling.
“Yes?”
“Right. What I need to tell you is that, although we agreed to feign affection for theton, we’ll have to do it for my family as well…”
“So I gathered.”
