Mellicent grasped Gene’s arm. Her hand trembled. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Gene said as he led her onto the terrace, where a small crowd had gathered. They parted to allow Gene and Mellicent to enter the ballroom, a sea of curious faces waited in breathless anticipation for the last act.
Gene was not sure what that would be. He knew how he wanted it to turn out, but it was far from a fait accompli. He would never pressure her as Pallthorpe had done.
Someone had summoned her father. With a frown, Abbersley pushed his way through. Before he could speak, Gene said, “I’d like a word, Lord Abbersley. In the library, if you will.”
“Indeed, Your Grace.” A speculative look came into Abbersley’s eyes. “Mellicent, go to your mother.”
*
Safely shielded fromprying eyes in the ladies’ withdrawing room, Mellie leaned against her mother’s shoulder as they sat on the sofa. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Will Papa be very angry with the duke?”
“We shall see,” Mama said. “Dry your eyes, Mellie, and tidy your hair. You need to look your best. Thetonis consumed with curiosity, and you are now the subject of gossip.”
“I’m very sorry, Mama.” Mellie wiped away a tear on her cheek.
Her mother gasped. She took hold of Mellie’s arm. “What caused this bruise?”
“Pallthorpe pinched me. He does that when I threaten to tell Papa the truth about him.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “What truth?”
“He says mean things to me.”
“Tell me at once, Mellie.”
“How he will teach me to be good when we’re married. How to please him.” She drew in a sharp breath and swallowed, determined now to tell it all. “He hates that I don’t like him. But he believes he can do or say anything and Papa will still support him because Papa needs the land and the money Pallthorpe has agreed to make part of the marriage settlement.”
“Oh, my dearest girl.” Her mother’s voice rasped. She sank back on the squab, looking crushed. “Why haven’t you told me about this?”
“I was afraid. Papa desperately needs this marriage. Is it my fault? Should I not have befriended the duke?”
“It is not your fault, my dear. It is ours. But we shall not discuss it now. There will be plenty of time later for recriminations.”
Mellie sighed heavily. She felt almost lightheaded, having told the truth at last. She would not have to marry Pallthorpe now, surely. “You must agree, Mama, that the duke is the most wonderful man in England.”
“He is certainly gallant. I am most grateful to him. I’m happy that you think so, dearest. There is nothing I want more than your happiness.” She looked thoughtful. “And it might now become possible.”
“How?”
“We shall see,” her mother said ambiguously.
A footman knocked at the door. He escorted them back to the library.
As they made their way through the ballroom, even the dancers paused in their steps to watch them. One gentleman cannoned into another. Someone tripped. Apologies rose above the music.
A woman Mellie walked past said, “Can you imagine? Chandos actually resorting to violence?”
“Extraordinary,” another replied, “Grief for his brother. That can make a person disturbed.”
Mellie bit her lip on a rebuke, and her chest swelled with indignation. The duke was not a violent man. This she instinctively knew. But she supposed she had appealed to him for help, and he had come to her aid. Ithadbeen all her fault. She should have been able to handle Pallthorpe better. But he’d made her feel so helpless. And then she met the duke, and she supposed she looked to him to save her. But then, it wasn’t safety she wanted from him. It was his love. And now it was all too late. She was grateful to him but wished he hadn’t done it. He would hate being the subject of a scandal.
When she and her mother entered the grand, lofty room filled with bookshelves to the ceiling, Mellie searched for the duke. He stood at the far end, resting a foot on the empty grate, his arm on the fireplace mantel. He straightened to face her as they came in, bowed slightly, and smiled.
Mellie smiled and her appreciative gaze took in the width of his shoulders. Watching him punch Pallthorpe was more thrilling and satisfying than distressing. She hurried over to her father, where he had risen from his chair. “Papa, I’m sorry this dreadful thing has happened.”
“Sit down, Honoria,” he said solicitously to her mother. “Would you care for something to drink? Coffee?”
