It was only then that he realized she was still peeling back layers. Zachariah gave a glance at the mountain of blankets and mattress pads already piled onto the footboard of the bed.
“Might I be of some assistance?”
Melody finally looked to him, “You want to help me undress the beds?”
He squared his shoulders and looked at her fondly, “I would be happy to assist in your workload.”
“Very well,” she nodded, “You can start with that bed over there.”
Zachariah confidently strolled the few paces to the other bed and began piling up the layers on the footboard just as she had. He, of course, slept in a bed every night. While he was used to a number of layers to protect from the nightly chill, he was flabbergasted to find just how many layers went beyond his usual preference.
His eyes frantically went over to her as she began separating out the sheets and blankets, then rolled one of the mattress pads, turning it around, and then rolling it back out onto the bed.
What was the point of that?
He was still carefully peeling back the layers of blankets and mattress as Melody began smacking one of the mattresses and Zachariah felt a genuine dread come over him. He, for the life of him, had no idea what on earth she was doing. By the time he was finished undressing his bed, Melody was putting hers back together, complete with fresh linens.
As embarrassed as he was, Zachariah could only stand there as though he were of a feeble mind and look at the mess he had made of his bed, while she quickly and expertly assembled hers. His stillness seemed to gather her attention, her gaze sliding over to him and a crooked smile coming over her face.
“What is the matter, Your Grace?”
Zachariah cleared his throat in attempt to distract his senses before his cheeks could begin to darken. “I fear that I do not quite know the disassembly and reassembly process as expertly as you do.”
Her smile turned kind, “Come watch me and then I’ll help with yours.”
Stepping in between the beds, Zachariah watched with careful eyes as she dressed the bed. “Why are there so many layers to a bed? Are there always so many? For each room you house?”
“It adds to the comfort,” she explained. “The mesh bases tend to be quite noticeable on the back. However, as the floors go up and the rooms get nicer and nicer, the amount of layers increase.”
Zachariah looked at her in horror, “So mine and Caleb’s beds have the most layers? You do this every time we come?”
She nodded. “Indeed.”
“Why is all this necessary instead of just changing out a couple of the blankets?”
“The mattresses are stuffed with duck feathers, you see, and moisture will collect in them and ruin them. It’s necessary to change the beds used each night so that they do not mold. We beat the main mattress because a person forms a shape in it when they lay on it.”
“I see,” he nodded.
Zachariah helped her dress her bed, mirroring her actions for his side of it. Once the bed was complete with a duvet and pillow, they moved over to address the mound of sheets, blankets, and mattresses that the Duke had left hoarded on top of the iron footboard. He was shocked to see that Melody was not annoyed or upset by the havoc he had caused—rather, she smiled fondly.
He was the most dutiful student as he assisted in undressing and redressing the bed. Whatever she did, he repeated. “I am surprised you are taking such an interest in menial labor,” Melody commented.
The Duke shook his head, “I assure you that this is not menial. Perhaps wiping a table is, but this… is most certainly a skill. It’s rather intricate, though one might not think it so.”
She shrugged, “It becomes mindless once you are used to the task.”
An easy-going grin appeared on his lips as they tucked in the corners of a blanket. “If it is mindless, where do your thoughts go as you do it? Usually—when I am not here.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she breathed, reaching for another sheet. “While I appreciate your fascination, Zachariah, you will find me to be a rather boring person. My thoughts are almost exclusively on the inn and my duties.”
“That is where you are wrong, Melody,” he smiled, enjoying the sound of her calling him by his given name rather than title. “I think it’s fascinating that you think so deeply of your inn. I have traveled quite a bit in my life and have come to know a few innkeepers. Most delegate all their responsibilities and spend all their time trying not to think about their business.”
“That sounds like quite the silly life to live,” Melody commented.
“I suppose that is true,” he smiled but then shrugged. “I guess I am guilty of the same. I do all I can to forget I am a Duke.”
“And why is that? Most little boys I knew growing up wanted nothing more than to be a Lord, a Duke, a prince.”
He snorted. “I know it is a terrible position for me to hold, to say that it is an illusion of class. There certainly are privileges in being a Duke… It is also just dreadfully boring. People who care to talk about nothing more than parties and other vapid affairs… It can wear a man’s soul down.”
“I suppose you’re right. All commoners can talk about is much of the same, though. Many just want to gossip about who is fancying who, who has what, who slighted who… The only difference is that instead of parties, we talk about linen duty and dishes.” Zachariah nodded, seeing the fair point she was making. He had never given much thought to what commoners talked about. “I will admit—”
Her voice then cut off, her head shaking fervently side to side. His eyes sparkled with curiosity, “What is it?”
“Oh, it is nothing.”
“You cannot leave me in such suspense,” he grinned, continuing to follow her lead with the task. “I hope you know by this point, that I will not pass any sort of judgement.”
He watched as a crimson hue came over her lightly freckled cheeks, though her olive eyes wouldn’t dare to meet his. She fumbled with a sheet as she spoke softly, “I always—as a little girl—longed to learn to dance. Silly, I know.”
“Not silly at all,” he grinned.
He was silent through the rest of making the bed. When the task was done, he stepped to the foot of the bed and held a hand out to her. Melody eyed him strangely, not knowing what it was that he was doing.
“You taught me to make a bed, I shall teach you to dance. There is a new dance that is taking the ton by storm, called the waltz. I shall teach you that dance this very day.”
“Oh,” Melody breathed, shaking her head with a hand on her heart. “That is not necessary. It was only a passing comment, not a request.”
“I am well aware,” he nodded. “Please, humor me.”
Still, Melody was frozen for a moment. While she was a commoner, she had heard of the popular new dance and understood that the waltz was considered to be very intimate, scandalous even. All she had shown him was how to undress and dress a bed…
However, she did not want to offend him. While they were far more familiar and friendly than two of their different classes should ever be, there was still a small part of Melody that feared the wrath of nobility. She had only ever known the upper class to plant a firm heel on the backs of the neck of commoners. His kindness and grace were appreciated, but still not completely bought in her mind. Even after all he had done for her.
“Very well,” she muttered, stepping forward and carefully placing her hand in his.
Side by side, they strolled a couple steps before he then took away his hand and bowed. She took the cue to curtsey. Zachariah once again took her hand and held it out to the side, his other gently lifting hers and placing it on his shoulder before carefully placing his hand on her side.
“Step back with this foot, very good. Now step to the left…” he whispered, talking her through each step.
Her eyes couldn’t lift from the floor as she looked over each movement. Her footing was awkward and unskilled. Melody had only ever danced at her own wedding
and never before or after. Even then it had been just the one dance and her husband had led her with a strong hand.
“Look at me,” he instructed. “Watching your feet will do nothing more but make you overthink.”
When her eyes lifted to his dark, forest green eyes, she realized just how close they were. His voice became mesmerizing as he whispered numbers for each step. Soon, they were moving in a fluid box motion. Melody was smiling, a pearly, wide smile.
They swirled about the room to the beat of his soft murmurs, with Zachariah occasionally stepping out of the box step to twirl her about. Her heart soared with childlike delight. She had always dreamt of dancing in such a way, but never thought it would come true.
What surprised her even more, was the faint grin that remained on his lips as they moved about. Melody wasn’t sure why he had been so insistent on teaching her to dance, but he seemed to be having a lovely time. Then, after quite some time of floating about, Zachariah pulled her close and very cautiously dipped her back. Her breath caught in her throat, once again aware of just how close he was. His olive skin, clean-shaven, angular jaw, subtle raven waves…
He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?
The intimacy of their actions began to surface in both of their minds. Even a commoner such as herself knew that the waltz was reserved for those with keen interest in one another. They were only friends. Zachariah lifted her back into a standing position, another moment of hesitance before his hands fell away from her.
“You are quite the dancer,” he complimented. “You picked up on the movements rather easily. It took a private tutor for me to master the steps.”
“I don’t know about all that,” she murmured, smoothing her gown nervously. “But… thank you, Zachariah. That was good fun.”
One side of his lips curled upward. “It was, wasn’t it?”
A throat cleared at the door, causing Melody to stumble in shock, falling directly into Zachariah’s arms.
Chapter 14
Zachariah stood staring at the face of someone he didn’t recognize, Melody in his grasp. The man crossed his arms and sniffed. “I came to see what all the noise was.”
“Sorry, Mr. Abbott. We shall keep it down,” Melody replied in earnest, standing on her own once more. The old man huffed and walked away. She cleared her throat and returned to the laundry, piling the blankets and sheets into a cart. “That is the man staying beneath this room.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle, realizing only then that the old-timer must have been disturbed by their dancing. “How rude of us, I suppose.”
“Quite. He is surely to ask for a discount,” she sighed.
He walked over and began helping her pack the blankets into the cart. “Will you give it to him?” he asked curiously.
“Of course I will.”
Zachariah thought about it, wondering whether or not it was proper for there to be a deduction of the man’s bill. They had woken him, but so what? Purchasing a room in an inn was signing up to be in a communal space. Noise had to be expected and it was not as though they had danced but for a few minutes. He left the decision to her, of course.
“May I inquire as to the rest of your day? Is there much left to do?” Zachariah questioned, approaching her with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Why do you ask? Do you care to assist in more chores?” she asked, her tone laced with humor.
Zachariah’s heart sang at the sight of her smile, his expression reflecting hers. “Perhaps I am.”
He swore there was something in the air just then, but he couldn’t identify what it was. Friendship? Mutual appreciation? Zachariah had been friends with Caleb since they were little, but he had never felt such a connection with him. His interested was further piqued, but he didn’t say a word, wanting to explore where it went naturally.
“If you are so interested, Betsy is rather unwell today so I’m going to go bake the bread for lunch service.”
“My condolences,” he bowed his head, though a ghost of a smirk was on his lips. He couldn’t help himself, thinking of how dear Caleb would react to the news that his cream bun wasn’t feeling well. “I would be absolutely delighted to learn by your hand.”
“You make it sound so fantastic,” Melody chuckled. “Betsy is the genius in the kitchen. I only know the basics.”
He followed her out of the room, helping her with the cart of laundry. When they reached the entry floor, they pushed the cart into a small hallway, which Zachariah had never been in, before crossing over to the kitchen. There wasn’t a soul in the kitchen. He hovered over Melody as she fetched the variety of ingredients needed for bread.
Admittedly, he didn’t know how much went into a simple loaf of bread, finding himself surprised by how many ingredients it required. He watched in fascination as Melody made quick work of blending the dry ingredients together before adding in water and milk. Sticky, malleable dough soon formed by her own hands before she placed it into a small pan and laid a cloth over it.
“What is the cloth for?”
“The bread has to rise first, and the air can prevent it.”
Zachariah rolled up his sleeves, taking off the couple of rings he wore and sliding them into his pocket before he, too, began picking up lumps of dough and placing them in pans alongside Melody. She had made enough dough for a dozen loafs!
“Did your mother teach you to make bread?” he asked as they worked diligently.
“Of course,” Melody nodded. Then she began eyeing him curiously. “What did your parents teach you growing up? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, common women are traditionally taught to cook, clean, and care for children. My husband was taught how to run the inn. Jack Smith’s boy, I’m sure, was taught how to make glass. What exactly does a Duke grow up learning?”
Zachariah paused, not having been prepared for a question. In the time of their companionship, the focus had been on his fascination of Melody and her life. He found his own role in society to be dreadfully boring and didn’t expect anyone outside of the House of Lords to take interest in how he spent his time. And yet, an easy smile came over his face. He liked that Melody took an interest.
“Well, I had many years of tutoring. Reading, arithmetic, history… And then there were extra-curricular activities. Horseback riding, dance lessons, and I even had a chess tutor for a bit as a boy.”
“I love chess,” Melody breathed, a cheery smile gracing her face.
Zachariah’s own face lit up at her excitement, as well as his own fascination that a woman knew how to play chess. Was it commonplace for girls to know? His mother only knew because his grandfather was an avid player.
“Do you have a set?”
The happy demeanor deflated, and her eyes fell back to the bread dough. “No, afraid not. When I first started running the inn and the business slowed, I sold it to pay the grocery bill. Silly thing to do, looking back on it.”
“Why would you call it silly? Sounds like a reasonable thing to do, to keep your business afloat.”
There was a thick tension in the air and her expression became cryptic. He felt a panic flutter in his chest, thinking that somehow he had made her uncomfortable. Just as he opened his mouth to change the subject, she answered his question. “The groceries spoiled.”
It was only then that Zachariah understood that the look on her face was not cryptic, but one of embarrassment. Spoiled groceries only meant one thing: no customers. Once more, Zachariah was rendered speechless by the sheer tenacity of Melody. She had been through so much in her young life and as much as life and society tried to keep her down, she continued on. And look where she was then! A full dining room day in and day out and half the inn filled regularly.
“You are perhaps the strongest woman I have ever met,” Zachariah told her, his voice soft and sincere.
She gave him a half-hearted smile before she spoke, “What else did you learn?”
He nodded, taking
the cue to abandon the subject. “When I became of age, my father began coaching me on how to be a Duke. The ins and outs of business, how to be certain you are getting a fair deal, how to treat servants and tenants—though I suppose my father and I saw things differently on that matter.”
“How do you mean?”
“He was a bit…” Zachariah searched for a word that would convey his meaning, without tarnishing the name of his deceased father. “Abrasive. The man had his demands and saw to it that they were met—and met promptly. He wasn’t exactly fond of my friendship with Caleb, either.”
Desperately Inn Love with the Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 10
