With a nod to the maid, Althea continued into the manor. Now was not the time to question her employer further. One maid had already made judgment on her actions today in the parlor, and she certainly didn’t wish to invite further speculation.
Althea was in a difficult position and was uncertain how to navigate. She’d wanted to be kissed by him ever since that first waltz and had dreamed and thought of him these past months, often imagining what it would be like to be held by him. Except he didn’t hold her, but he gently caressed her face, as a lover would.
Men had the benefit of desiring as much as they wished and acting on such. A miss, however, did not. If she acted on her own desire even once, she was ruined for life.
It was simply unfair. Therefore, until she knew if Melcombe wished anything beyond simply satisfying his desire, she’d not allow him to kiss her again, no matter how much she yearned for him to do so.
Once Althea returned to her set of rooms, she remained there until supper. She didn’t attempt to read as she knew that it would be impossible to concentrate, and as there were no lessons that needed her attention, she was left to relive their conversations, and his kiss.
The memory would stay with her always. So gentle, but it stirred something within. That infatuation burned brighter, and she wanted him to kiss her again and again, but it could not be allowed. At least not until she knew that his intentions were above that of a dalliance.
As the supper hour neared, Althea took a deep breath and willed herself to remain at a professional distance, though excitement and anticipation fluttered within her being at seeing Melcombe again. Of being able to dine with him without the girls present. To perhaps continue conversations and come to know one another. Only then might she be able to determine if it was simply desire or more.
Oh, she hoped that it was more.
“The latch has been broken on Lord Melcombe’s door for months, and you’ve been ordered to fix it now?” the woman asked from the corridor.
Althea frowned as the voice drifted up the stairs within her hearing.
“I don’t ask questions, just do as I’m told,” the man said.
“It’s because of her, the new governess,” a woman said.
Althea paused on the steps, out of sight. Did they fear she’d sneak into Melcombe’s chamber?
Is that what came from having a glass of brandy and being seen exiting a walled garden? Or, had someone seen him kiss her?
That was impossible. Nobody had been about, and it was impossible to see into the walled garden.
“Just like the last one. Taking advantage of Lord Melcombe’s good nature and seducing him in hopes of marriage.”
The man grunted, which could have meant he agreed or disagreed.
Althea wished to object to their assumption but didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping.
“She’ll get nothing for her troubles,” the woman continued. “Last one was ruined and turned out. That’s likely to happen to Miss Claywell too.”
Althea placed a hand over her mouth for fear her gasp would escape, alerting them to her presence.
Oh, why did she stop and listen when she heard voices. Nothing good ever came from eavesdropping, especially when she was the topic of conversation. She’d run away the last time she’d done this.
“Miss Halton wasn’t the seducer, it was Lord Melcombe,” another woman said. Althea could only assume they were maids. “He charmed her, and she fell in love.”
The first maid snorted. “Lord Melcombe is not a charmer. Besides, you didn’t see her sitting all cozy in the parlor, holding a glass of brandy.”
“Nor did you see her walk away from Lord Melcombe when she exited the walled garden as if she’d rejected him,” the second maid argued.
Is that what Melcombe was about when he kissed her? He admitted to desire. Was his kiss the first attempt at wooing her into his bed?
The anticipation of seeing him at supper started to change to near illness.
“You are wrong,” the first maid argued. “Lord Melcombe would never stoop so low as to harm an innocent miss. What happened to Miss Halton was of her own doing.”
“Miss Halton claimed differently,” the second maid insisted.
“Well, since Lord Melcombe won’t say what truly happened, how can you be so certain?”
“Enough of this,” the man said. “It’s none of our concern who did the seducing and ye best quit talking about it before Mrs. Wilson hears and has you both sacked.”
