As she passed a rounded archway leading to the north wing, a woman’s voice floated from the turret stairs. “… annulled.”
The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. The word made her even more curious. She stopped. “Annulled?”
“I will not have my marriage annulled. And that is final.”
Her hand flew from her throat to her side and clenched itself in fear and anger. The man’s voice belonged to Rolf. He was defending their marriage to this woman, whoever she was. But why? What could the woman have said that could even give her the boldness to suggest that Rolf’s marriage should be annulled?
Curiosity overcoming fear, Melodia peered up the stairs, even though the action risked her getting caught. She had to identify the woman. A hem of gold material told the tale. The woman whispering to Rolf was none other than Eustacia! Her friend!
Why would Eustacia want to spread rumors strong enough to suggest that her new husband annul their marriage?
Unless …
Unless she had been the one who was flirting with Rolf at the ball! But was Eustacia tall enough to fit the description? And hadn’t her ball gown been pale blue rather than the striking red gown that the flirt had worn?
Trusting Eustacia was her friend, Melodia never thought before about how tall and regal Eustacia stood. Perhaps she had worn a blue gown, then changed into the red one, then back into the blue one, just to fool Melodia. If Eustacia wanted Rolf for herself, such an effort would be a small concession to make to keep her identity concealed.
Rolf had said Eustacia was high-spirited. Perhaps risk offered excitement she could find no other way. Perhaps Eustacia had deliberately cultivated her as a friend to gain her confidence. A smart move.
But then again, Rolf had told Melodia that he admired her character, not Eustacia’s. Was Rolf to be believed?
More thoughts, both logical and preposterous, flooded her head until she thought they might pour out of her ears. She rubbed her palm on the side of her head as though such a motion would help contain them. At the moment, she only knew she felt too confused and befuddled to think about anything. She had to get out of sight before Rolf—and Eustacia—caught her spying on them.
Like the child she suddenly felt she was, Melodia took the only action she knew. She fled to her bedchamber, threw herself on the down-filled mattress, and sobbed.
Moments later, someone entered. She had been missed! Melodia stiffened, shut her eyes, and pretended to be asleep. As the figure drew near, she heard the rustle of a dress. The intruder was female. The strong odor of lily of the valley fragrance revealed her identity. Felice had come to comfort her, but Melodia didn’t want to be comforted. She kept her eyes shut.
Melodia felt Felice’s soft hand brush her exposed cheek. “Melodia, dear, what is the matter?”
Her eyes remained shut.
“You cannot fool me. I see your eyelashes fluttering. You are not asleep.” Melodia felt the mattress sink in one spot as Felice sat on the side of the bed.
Melodia tried to keep her eyes shut but to no avail. Once her sister had determined that she was fooling, there was no turning back. She allowed her eyes to flutter open but remained in a prone position. “I do not wish to speak to anyone, not even you. I am ill. Please give my excuses to the remainder of our guests.”
“I will do no such thing. You are to come downstairs with me right this instant. You cannot have it said all over the parish that you abandoned your own party.”
“Illness is an acceptable excuse.”
“I would not recommend it. And I do not believe you are ill.” She inspected her. “You … you are crying. Tell me. What is really the matter?” Felice held out a clean handkerchief in a way that reminded Melodia of a carrot being dangled in front of the nose of a horse.
Melodia sat and took the offered item. “I noticed Rolf was missing from the party so I went to look for him. I thought he might be ill. But instead I found him on the turret stairs with … with …” She sniffled.
“With whom?” Felice rubbed her open palm on Melodia’s back.
“You will never believe it.”
“Eustacia.”
Melodia felt her eyelids widen as far as they would go. “How did you know?”
“I saw him leave the concert and her follow not long after. I had my suspicions that the timing of their departures was no coincidence. And then when I noticed you left in the middle of Lord Suffolk’s song, I knew something must be amiss.” Felice patted Melodia’s back. “So where were they?”
“On the turret stairs.”
Felice took in a breath. She opened her mouth to speak but shut it. Clearly, she was afraid to ask what had transpired.
“They were just … talking,” Melodia assured Felice. “It was what they talked about that concerned me. She said something about annulling our marriage.”
Felice gasped. “No!”
“I thought she was my friend.” Melodia dabbed the handkerchief against her eyes. “Maybe she still is.”
“Indeed?” Doubt dripped from Felice’s voice.
“Perhaps Rolf has done something to warrant her suggestion. As I told you, he … he is absent a great deal.”
“You would think that about Rolf?” Felice paused. “Well, he is a man, after all. But what if he is? Would you really want to leave your marriage?”
“No. No, I do not.”
Felice dropped her hands to her lap and looked into Melodia’s eyes. “You have come to love him.”
Melodia looked into her own lap and nodded.
“Then we must stop Eustacia. She must not be allowed to play the coquette with your husband any longer.”
“I was thinking, and wondering—could she have been the woman behind the red mask that night at the ball?”
“Yes. Yes, I am convinced of that now,” Felice said without missing a beat. “I am your sister. You can trust me, and only me, to tell you the truth. Let me prove it to you. Let me help you prove that Eustacia was the masked woman you saw with Rolf that night—a woman hiding behind a duplicitous façade.”
“But I asked Rolf—”
“And he lied. He lied to you before, and he will lie to you again.”
Melodia swallowed. “No.”
“I know such a possibility is heartbreaking to consider, but you must. I regret heartily that I am the one to break your heart, but for your own good, you must face facts,” Felice implored.
“I know what we have to do. There is one person we can confront. And we will do so now.”
As Rolf listened to Mrs. Snidow play a flute duet with her young daughter, the tune swirled around him but missed his ears and his mind.
Where was Melodia? He looked for his wife, eyeing the door every few moments in hopes that she would reenter. Surely she knew how her absence must appear odd. She had, much to his delight, established herself as an exemplary hostess, yet her reputation wasn’t so secure that she should absent herself from the performances.
If only he hadn’t allowed Eustacia to pull him away from the gathering! He had been suspicious of her willingness to befriend Melodia but had put aside his reservations in hopes that Eustacia was displaying maturity in spending time with his lonely wife. Rolf wasn’t a conceited man, but he knew that not so long ago Eustacia would have welcomed his offer of marriage. And she had many attributes to recommend her—just not attributes that appealed to him. He wanted a woman of spiritual depth, something Eustacia lacked. The longer he stayed married to Melodia, the more convinced he became that their marriage was God’s will.
Confident in his union with Melodia, Rolf had believed Eustacia when she said she had something important to share. Like a stunned fly whirring into the spider’s web, he had flown onto the turret stairs and heard Eustacia whisper things to him—things he never wanted to hear. Surely they couldn’t be true! Surely Melodia didn’t harbor some secret love back where she came from and wasn’t carrying on with illicit love letters to him at this very moment. Why, she e
ven suggested that the man had been circulating among them at the masquerade ball. That could not have been possible!
The worst confession from Eustacia was that the rumors suggested that Rolf himself was seeking an annulment to their marriage. He was too much in love with Melodia not to forgive her anything.
As Mrs. and Miss Snidow completed their song, he clapped along with the guests and then halfway watched Miss Jane Laurel take her place in front of the audience for a solo. As she struggled to hit notes too high for her natural range, Rolf went over the guest list for the masquerade ball that had been the source of such distress for Melodia, distress he wished she hadn’t been forced to endure. He matched a masked guest with each name. He didn’t remember seeing any uninvited guests among them—except the woman in red who had flirted with him.
If only he had seen her motive and had fled from the refreshment table the moment she made contact with him! But like a fox cornered by the hounds, he could only stare in disbelief when she whispered in his ear that she loved him. Unwilling to embarrass the woman, he had responded in the only way he knew in public. He chuckled. No matter that he exited as quickly as etiquette allowed. He never should have appeared to enjoy her words. But everyone knew he had recently married. Surely the woman didn’t mean what she said. Idle words of flirtation, meant to bolster the emotions of the speaker as much as the receiver.
Heavenly Father, forgive me my slip. I have been wed only a short time, and I still do not know how to act as a husband should. Forgive me! I ask Thee to take away any desire that any other woman except Melodia may still harbor for me, for though I am strong enough to resist their wiles, I wish not to break any hearts. Thou hast seen fit to give me Melodia. Let me be worthy of her.
Chapter 8
Later that evening, as the concert given by their friends and neighbors was still in progress, Melodia and Felice waited for their guest to enter Melodia’s private study. She chose the room for the confrontation on purpose, knowing the familiar and intimate setting would make her feel more confident.
Before exiting her bedchamber, Melodia had taken a few moments to compose herself. Rachel had been summoned to touch up her hair, and though the maid’s eyes held a curious look, Melodia resisted confiding to her trusted servant. Rachel had brought a few chips of precious ice to help reduce the puffiness of Melodia’s tear-stained eyelids, yet despite those efforts the skin around her eyes still looked enlarged from sobbing and her face remained splotched with red. In spite of these disadvantages to her personal appearance, she sat upright in the most thronelike chair available.
“Are you nervous?” Felice asked.
“Yes,” Melodia admitted. “But I shall try not to reveal my feelings.”
“I am distraught to see you so vexed.”
Melodia dabbed her eyes, pleased that the motion was successful in preventing new tears from falling. “I cannot bear the thought of my husband keeping secrets from me—secrets that could affect our marriage. Especially now that … now that …”
“Now that what?” Felice looked at her with widened eyes.
“Do you promise you will not reveal what I am about to say to anyone?”
“Yes.”
Melodia felt herself blush as she peered at her lap. “I think I may be presenting Rolf with an heir this winter.”
“Oh Melodia!” Felice rose from her chair so she could embrace her sister. “How wonderful for you!”
“I—I thought it was wonderful. Now I am not so sure.”
“Of course you are sure. A baby is a beautiful blessing.” Felice’s eyes darkened. “How dare he! How dare he take part in romantic intrigue when he has a wife of whom he should be mindful!”
Melodia didn’t have time to answer before Eustacia entered. “You wished to see me?”
“Yes,” Melodia answered from her seat, refusing to rise.
Her voice displayed irritation. “I wish you had not summoned me at the peak of the festivities. Lord and Lady Ellingworth were just about to sing a duet when I was summoned here.” She stared at Melodia as though thunderstruck. “Are you quite all right?”
“She will be soon, I hope,” Felice snapped from her own chair situated near Melodia’s.
Eustacia eyed both women. “So you both wished to see me?”
“You might say so,” Felice said.
Melodia wanted to elaborate, but suddenly her throat closed. She took a sip of lemonade, but the cool liquid did nothing to open her vocal cords.
Felice looked over at Melodia, then back to Eustacia. “What my sister wants to know,” Felice said, “is why you were lingering on the turret steps with her husband and what vicious rumor you were spreading to him.”
Eustacia turned as white as a snowflake. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me,” Felice prompted.
Eustacia drew herself to her full height and eyed both women. “There must be some mistake. I do not know what you think you heard, but I assure you, I have done nothing improper in relation to your husband, nor do I wish to do so. He has been my acquaintance for many years. Indeed, we were childhood playmates. I would never wish any harm upon him.”
“So you do not deny you spoke to Rolf this evening?” Felice asked.
Eustacia crossed her arms. “I know what you imply, and I will not dignify such a question with an answer. And I suggest, Felice, that you not make a pursuit of such prurient pastimes as gossip.”
“I beg your pardon,” Melodia said, “but despite your protests otherwise, I would guess that you are the one who was engaged in gossip on the turret steps—or worse.”
Eustacia’s lips tightened.
“I am giving you an opportunity to clear yourself,” Melodia said. “If you choose not to accept it, I will be forced to ask you to leave and never expect to return here as my guest again.”
“You would say no such thing. I am the only friend you have here.”
Melodia clenched her teeth behind closed lips to keep herself from showing emotion. Indeed, at that moment, she had never felt more abandoned. Yet she knew she had gained many companionable acquaintances since her arrival in the country. She felt sure that, given time, she could cultivate many friends.
“And you know full well that Rolf would be sure to object should you try to ostracize me,” Eustacia said. “We were once close, you know. And I do not refer to our time together as children.”
“No, I did not know he had piqued your interest. But that explains much. Thank you,” Melodia said. “You have just confirmed my suspicions about a mystery that has been puzzling me ever since the masquerade ball.”
“A mystery? Do tell.”
“You.” She pointed at Eustacia’s nose even though she knew that the gesture was the height of rudeness. “You are the woman in red.”
“The woman in red?” Eustacia uncrossed her arms and inched her head toward her. Her mouth slackened into an uneven O. “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, I saw that you were quick to change back into your blue dress in time for the unmasking. But you made quite an impression in your red dress and feathered head covering during the ball.”
Eustacia laughed. “Your mind has certainly taken a flight of fancy, Melodia. I am flattered that you think I would devise such an elaborate scheme, but I did no such thing. In fact, I saw the woman you mention. Who would not? She was certainly stunning, and I noticed that all the men seemed enraptured by her presence. In fact, I envy her, whoever she is.”
The confession left Melodia shaken. “You … you mean that woman really was someone else?”
“Truly. Bring me the Bible you love so much, and I will put my hand on it and swear that I speak the truth.”
“No. I do not require such dramatics. I will take you at your word.”
“Really? When you have just threatened to banish me from your house forever?”
“I am so sorry, Eustacia. But will you please tell me what you were saying to Rolf while the two of you were on the stairs?”
&n
bsp; “Are you saying you have absolutely no idea?”
“No.”
Eustacia turned to Felice. “May I speak to your sister alone?”
“I should be privy to anything you have to say to my sister.”
“Please.” Eustacia sent Melodia a pleading look.
Melodia glanced at Felice, who wore a pout much like the one she would wear as a child when she didn’t get her way. Father would always give in to that pout. Melodia decided that since she was in the process of testing an important friendship, she would not be as vulnerable as their father to Felice’s wiles. “Felice, I would like to be alone with Eustacia.”
“And have my own reputation ruined?”
“What I have to say has nothing to do with you in the least,” Eustacia promised.
“I believe her,” Melodia assured Felice.
“If I break my word, Melodia is free to tell you,” Eustacia added.
Felice let out a dissatisfied sigh but rose from her seat and exited without another word.
“Thank you,” Eustacia said.
Melodia motioned to the seat that Felice had vacated.
“I am sorry you saw Rolf and me on the stairs. I never meant for that to happen.”
“Obviously.”
“I beg your forgiveness for my outburst about my former interest in Rolf. I admit I once wished he would become a suitor. I thought such an arrangement would be a fine thing, especially because of my deep fondness for his sister, Martha.”
“I understand.” Melodia nodded.
“Good. And now that the two of you are wed, the happiness he wears on his face is something I have never witnessed in him before. I could never have caused him to look like that. Not ever. And because he is a fine man, I am pleased for him. And for you.” When Eustacia placed her hand on Melodia’s, she decided not to move it. “Please believe me when I say that I am your friend.”
British Brides Collection Page 12
