But it was enough.
Meliahwasenough.
“Meliah?”
She blinked and looked up at her mother. “Yes?”
The middle-aged woman looked tired, her simple brown frock hanging loosely on her frame, but it was the concern in her tone that caused Meliah’s heart to sink. “I called your name three times. Are you sure everything is well? You haven’t been yourself since you returned from your extended visit with Samantha in London.”
It was the same question that her mother had posed for the past week, and yet, Meliah was no closer to an answer. At least,none that would be truthful. She continued to mourn the loss of Lord Belmont, although she’d tried to convince herself that he had probably already forgotten her completely. They hadn’t parted on the best of terms, and he was likely still upset she’d chosen to leave instead of stay and cause her heart further grief when they eventually parted.
“I think I just need some fresh air,” she noted.
“Of course.” Her mother looked at her curiously, but Meliah couldn’t focus on that too much, or else she might find herself breaking down and explaining her actions, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone. Her mother might sympathize for a time, but her father would surely be disappointed. The knowing looks he’d given her upon her return had nearly made her reveal the guilt of her actions.
Meliah walked outside and sat down on the stone steps in the alleyway beside her parent’s shop. She stared at her plain shoes that were starting to need repaired again. The coarse wool gown she wore irritated her now that she’d worn fine muslins.
Tears stung the back of her eyes knowing that such luxuries were never to be hers again. But it was more than the fashions and the extravagant surroundings that she missed. She thought of Elwood constantly, the warmth of his touch and the feel of his lips on hers. She yearned for just a glimpse of him, but that would be a mistake. He likely wasn’t back in London yet anyway. There were still more than two weeks of October and the new rake would not be revealed until the following month.
Nevertheless, she had caught herself contemplating a return to the hunting box and begging Lord Belmont to take her back. But she couldn’t do that to her family—to disrespect them by being another man’s mistress.
When the marquess had dropped her off near the Floris perfumery on Jermyn Street, Meliah had made haste to find Samantha and her orange cart. To say that her friend had beenworried sick with her absence had been an understatement. After she’d explained in detail the whole sordid affair from her time with the earl, her devoted friend’s face darkened with malicious intent.
“He is just as horrible as ‘The Belle’ claimed!”
Meliah had immediately risen to his defense. “I believed so at first, but there is something… different about him from before. I can’t explain it.”
“Because he has used you most ill and convinced you that he isn’t the worst man to walk this earth!” Samantha snapped, but then she’d softened her tone with a regrettable look in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mel. I am not without blame. I encouraged you, so some of that guilt lays directly on my shoulders.”
Meliah closed her eyes and released a heavy sigh. She still recalled every word of that exchange and she lamented hurting Samantha, because how could she tell her she’d fallen in love with the earl after such a short acquaintance? She would never believe it.
Following that unwanted exchange, Meliah had returned home and told her parents her fabricated story about being with Samantha. Afterward, exhaustion had settled in and she’d gone to bed and slept until the next morning. When she arose, the first thing she had spied was her novel, sitting inconspicuously on her desk. She recalled the hours she’d spent writing by dim, tallow light, her hand aching from holding the pen so long into the night.
She had ignored it then, and she continued to do so. She had planned to gain notice by confirming “The Belle’s” article, but now, she had nothing to make the printers take notice of her talents. She certainly wasn’t confident enough in her writing to do anything about it at the moment. Perhaps someday soon she would dare to find the courage.
“There you are.”
Meliah’s eyes flew open and she lifted her head to see her father standing in the doorframe. She got to her feet and brushed off her skirts. “I’m sorry, Papa. I was just gathering my thoughts. I’ll return to work?—”
“There is someone here who wishes to speak with you.”
Immediately, a strange fluttering started in the pit of her stomach. “Who is it?”
He smiled tightly. “First, let me say that I have noticed some reticence in your work since you returned from London.” She started to open her mouth, but he held up a hand. “Please, let me finish.” She fell silent. “I started to wonder if perhaps you are here because you have to be, not because youwantto be. Your mother and I would like to see you take over the shop, but if you prefer another occupation, you have only to say so. I don’t want to pressure you into something that will make you unhappy for the rest of your days. Life is difficult enough for people in our position without despising waking up in the mornings.”
He glanced away, and Meliah wondered, for the first time, if he was speaking from experience and had a certain resentment toward his own occupation.
“I suppose I just want to secure your happiness above all else. But for a single woman in your position, it is difficult to do that.” His focus swung back to her. “In that regard, I have taken the liberty of speaking to the baker’s son about securing your hand in marriage. He is waiting at the front of the shop to speak with you, and I hope that you will consider his proposal. I believe that having a husband and children will suit you much better than this life.”
For a moment, Meliah couldn’t speak. Shock kept her immobile. When she finally found her voice, she was about to decline the offer, but it was her father’s hopeful expression that caused her to hesitate. It was obvious that he was trying to do something right by her, and considering her actions of late,along with the slim chance that the earl might ever arrive to offer himself in the baker’s stead, she squared her shoulders and reminded herself that things could be much more difficult. The baker’s son had always treated her with polite decorum, and although she might not feel the same sort of all-consuming passion that Lord Belmont had caused in her chest, at least she could rest easy knowing that she had done the right thing by her parents. Happiness would surely come in time.
“Of course, Papa. I am sure he is a good choice.” She walked over and grasped his hand. “I love you.”
He kissed the top of her head. “And I, you.”
As they walked away together, Meliah was rebelling at the idea of being with anyone else but the earl, but this man was here and Elwood was not, so what other choice did she have?
CHAPTER 15
