Dreaming of You

by Jennifer McNare

  She cocked her head to the side, studying his expression. “Is it another woman who has been keeping you so busy of late?”

  “No, it is not another woman,” he replied equably, lowering his voice as the music that had helped to obscure their conversation came to an end. It was true enough, for although Melody Cavendish frequently occupied his thoughts, she certainly hadn’t been occupying his bed, at least not yet anyhow.

  “Well then, would you care to take a stroll through the rear gardens, Your Grace?” Her tone was whisper soft and blatantly seductive as she placed her hand on his forearm.

  He eyed her flowing white gown, the diaphanous one-shouldered garment belted at the waist with a thin gold chain, so easily removed with just a few simple flicks of the wrist. “It is rather warm in here,” he said, already leading her toward the nearest set of French doors, casually winding their way through the large group of costumed revelers exiting the dance floor.

  Turning to reenter the ballroom, Melody was about to reaffix her mask but stopped short as a man and woman exited through the very set of doors she’d been about to enter. Noting her presence, they halted on the white marble floor of the terrace just a few feet in front of her.

  “Lady Edgington,” Gavin said in surprise. Reaching up, he pushed his mask upward and then pulled it off entirely.

  “Oh, good evening, Your Grace,” Melody replied, as her eyes moved from him to the woman at his side, noting as they did the proprietary manner in which Countess Petrovich’s hand rested upon his arm. In her other hand she held a beaded white and gold mask attached to a beribboned wand.

  “I do not believe that we have met,” Anastasia said, eyeing Melody curiously.

  “Allow me to make the introductions then,” Gavin said quickly. “Anastasia, may I present Lady Melody Cavendish, Countess Edgington.

  “How do you do,” the dark-haired beauty said, smiling politely.

  “Lady Edgington, may I present Countess Anastasia Petrovich.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you.” With difficulty, she managed to get the words past the sudden lump in her throat as she eyed the other woman. Her simple, figure-hugging costume enveloped her lush curves like a second skin, leaving Melody feeling woefully unsophisticated in her modestly cut medieval gown of crimson velvet.

  The countess nodded her head courteously in response before she spoke. “His Grace and I were just coming outside for a breath of air.”

  As Melody looked on, the countess’ fingers seemed to tighten slightly around the duke’s forearm.

  “I fear I was becoming a bit…overheated.”

  Gavin tensed at Anastasia’s subtle innuendo, silently cursing his misfortune in stumbling upon Lady Edgington at such an inopportune moment.

  “I see.” Unfortunately she did see, quite clearly in fact, for there was an unmistakable air of intimacy between the two that was impossible to miss. She recalled the night of the Middleton’s ball, and what Penny had said about the duke’s amorous activities. Were he and the countess lovers? The sudden notion made her feel physically ill, and the lump within her throat seemed to thicken as she attempted a smile. “I too was overcome by the warmth inside,” she said, deliberately misinterpreting the countess’ comment, “and sought a bit of fresh air myself.”

  Her voice sounded slightly uneven to his ears, and studying her face, Gavin noted that she looked rather pale. “Are you feeling unwell, Lady Edgington?”

  Unwell? She felt as if she were about to toss up her accounts. “A slight headache,” she fibbed. “It’s nothing.” Taking a step to the right, she felt slightly off balance. Seeing Gavin for the first time since discovering his identity was difficult enough, but combined with the sudden suspicion that he and the gorgeous brunette on his arm were lovers, well, it was all a bit more than she had anticipated. “If you will both excuse me, I should be getting back inside.” She took another step, forward this time, her head spinning. Reaching out, she placed her hand on the doorframe to steady herself as she made to move past them.

  “Perhaps we should escort you back inside,” Gavin said, his expression growing concerned.

  “No, that isn’t necessary, really.” Get ahold of yourself, she commanded silently.

  “You are looking a trifle unwell,” Anastasia noted, her own expression now showing concern. She released Gavin’s arm and stepped toward Melody. “Perhaps I should assist you to the ladies retiring room.”

  “No, I-”

  The countess made a tisking sound as she reached for Melody’s arm. “I insist,” she said, pulling Melody gently toward the door as Gavin looked on. “Mayhap if you sit and rest for a few minutes the headache will pass.”

  She was about to decline the countess’ offer once again, but then glancing between her and Gavin, she abruptly changed her mind. “Yes, I think you may be right.” Taking the countess’ arm, she allowed the woman to lead her back inside without further argument.

  With his forgotten mask dangling from his fingertips, Gavin watched as Anastasia obligingly escorted Lady Edgington back into the ballroom. Following just a few steps behind, his amorous assignation inadvertently thwarted, his mood wasn’t frustrated, but rather slightly bemused instead. He hadn’t missed the telling glance Lady Edgington had cast between he and Anastasia just before accepting her offer of assistance, and he’d found it remarkably enlightening.

  When Melody returned to the ballroom a short while later, she quickly scanned the room, pleased to see that Countess Petrovich was presently conversing with a small group of women near the refreshment table, for after making sure that she was well-attended, the countess had left her to the care of the Markham’s accommodating staff. Fearing that she and the duke might have attempted another excursion out onto the darkened terrace; she was immensely relieved to see that it wasn’t so.

  Intending to locate her cousin, Melody adjusted her mask and then moved to rejoin the raucous crowd of characters, deliberately moving in the opposite direction of Countess Petrovich.

  “Lady Edgington, I trust you are feeling better?”

  She’d only taken a couple of steps when she stopped and turned, surprised by the duke’s sudden presence. Had he been waiting for her to return to the ballroom? The possibility pleased her immensely. “Yes, Your Grace. I am feeling much better now, thank you.”

  She had donned her mask once again, but Gavin was pleased to see that the lower portion of her face was no longer a chalky white and once again full of color. “I didn’t have a chance to mention it earlier, but please allow me to tell you now, how lovely you look this evening.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, feeling her breath catch in her throat as he studied her.

  “Lady Guinevere, is it?”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Attempting to disguise her unease, she titled her head to the side, and then lightly tapped her index finger against her chin as her gaze swept him slowly from head to toe. “And you are…?”

  “A decidedly poor sport,” Gavin acknowledged.

  His wide grin was utterly unrepentant, causing Melody to laugh softly.

  There it was again. That laugh, that sweet, melodious sound that sent an odd chill racing along his spine. He stared at her in wonder, his smile gradually fading. Could it be?

  Melody watched his changing expression and her own grew serious. “Is something wrong, Your Grace?”

  Gavin shook his head as if to clear it. “No, no of course not. A wayward thought, nothing more.” He smiled apologetically. Damn Nelson for planting those ridiculous suspicions in his head. Though he hadn’t yet heard back from the investigator, he found it nearly impossible to believe that the beautiful lady standing before him was anything at all like the woman Nelson had described. And if there was even an ounce of truth to what Nelson had said about his uncle’s widow, it certainly didn’t mean that it had anything to do with him. The whole thing was completely preposterous, wasn’t it?

  Melody eyed him intently. Did he sense something? Had her voice, or perhaps
her laugh triggered a distant memory, or was it something else entirely that had caused that sudden faraway look in his eyes? She wished she could see into his mind, his thoughts, but of course she couldn’t. As frustrating as it was, she had no way of knowing what he was thinking or feeling at that moment.

  As to what she was thinking and feeling however, that she did know. Everything had changed, everything was different now. This was the man who’d taken her innocence, the man who’d shown her such kindness and compassion, and ultimately taught her the meaning of passion. This was the man whose hands had stroked and caressed every inch of her naked form, the man who had touched her body and her heart as no one ever had before or had since. This was the father of her children, the man she was hopelessly in love with.

  She needed to tell him the truth, and sooner rather than later. It would do no good to prolong the inevitable. Not now of course, not here, but at some point she needed to get him alone, to speak with him privately. She’d thought to pen an invitation, inviting him to take afternoon tea at her home perhaps. It was highly improper of course, for they were not that well-acquainted, as far as he knew that was, but what else could she do? She could hardly show up on the Duke of Rutherford’s doorstep unannounced, requesting a private audience. But if he suspected something? Perhaps she should extend the invitation now.

  “Your Grace, I-”

  “Ah, here you are, Melody.” Penny glanced back and forth between Melody and the duke as she approached. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  Melody turned at her cousin’s approach, the words she had been about to speak halted mid-sentence. “No, of course not.”

  “Not at all, Lady Wexley,” Gavin replied graciously.

  “Hello again, Your Grace,” Penny said, smiling politely to the duke. “Are you enjoying your evening thus far?”

  “Even more so than I had anticipated.” His gaze flickered briefly toward Lady Edgington, before he turned it quickly back to Penny Dunham.

  “Excellent, I am so glad to hear it,” Penny gushed. “Pennworth’s temporary absence will prove most beneficial then, if it in turn brings about your increased fondness for gatherings such as this. For as you well know, your presence at Society functions is always a marked delight.”

  Not bloody likely, Gavin thought to himself. Once his brother-in-law was back in town he was returning to his old ways with all due haste. “Only time will tell, I suppose,” he replied, smiling affably.

  “Well, I shall endeavor to hope then.” Penny said pleasantly and then turned to Melody. “Melody dear, I was hoping to introduce you to Lady Carstairs. I don’t believe the two of you had a chance to meet the other night.”

  “Lady Carstairs?” The name didn’t sound familiar. “No, I don’t believe we did.”

  “Please do not let me keep you then,” Gavin said, nodding politely. “Lady Edgington, Lady Wexley, it was a pleasure as always.”

  “Please forgive me for interrupting your conversation,” Penny murmured quietly as she led Melody to the far side of the room a moment later. “I would not have intruded, but Lady Carstairs is a tremendously influential member of the ton, and she was inquiring about you just moments ago.”

  “It’s quite alright Penny. His Grace and I were merely chatting.” In truth, Penny’s interruption had been a blessing in disguise. It would be better to send a written invitation and far less awkward than doing so in person, she decided.

  Chapter 19

  The morning following the Markham’s affair, Gavin arrived at Number Ten Golding Street just before midday, in response to the missive he’d received from Mr. Beckett a short while earlier. Stepping down from the well-appointed vehicle that bore the Rutherford coat of arms emblazoned on both sides, he instructed his driver and footmen to wait outside as he turned toward the nondescript, two-story brick building.

  Once inside, he was shown directly to Mr. Beckett’s office at the rear of the establishment. Settling into the proffered chair, Gavin declined refreshment, and then eyed the older man intently as he resumed his own seat behind his neatly organized desk. “I assume you have the information I requested,” he said, leaning slightly forward in his chair.

  Mr. Beckett rested his hands atop the desk, his fingers interlaced. “Yes, Your Grace. The children, William and Emma, now four years of age, were born on the twenty-eighth of June.”

  Gavin’s features were expressionless, his tone devoid of inflection as he absorbed that bit of information. The timing fit. He felt his chest tighten. “And the man I described?”

  “An individual by the name of John Edwards was in the employ of the earl for many years prior to and including the time you referenced. By all accounts, he fits the description of the man you described, precisely.”

  Sitting back, he casually folded his arms across his chest as he tried to calm his racing heart. “Was?”

  “He and his wife, Mary Edwards, left the country a few months prior to the earl’s death. They resettled in America shortly thereafter, and as yet I have been unable to find any evidence of their return.”

  “Did you find the cottage?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. And it is exactly as you described it.”

  “It’s location?”

  “The southeastern most corner of the Edgington property. It is currently uninhabited.”

  Gavin’s demeanor revealed nothing of the sudden tumult raging within him as he held Mr. Beckett’s gaze. “And the information regarding Baron Settrington?”

  Clearing his throat, Mr. Beckett shifted slightly in his chair. “Prior to his daughter’s marriage to the earl, the baron’s financial situation was bleak. He received only a meager inheritance upon his father’s passing, and that, in addition to the income received from his tenant properties, was insufficient to adequately maintain the Settrington estate. In turn, the family’s debts had been escalating for years.”

  “And now?”

  “From what I could ascertain, the baron’s outstanding debts have all been settled and he and his family now appear to be living quite comfortably.”

  “I see,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion. As difficult as it was to conceive, Mr. Beckett’s findings hadn’t disproved Nelson’s heinous allegations as Gavin had anticipated, but instead had substantiated them. By marrying the Earl of Edgington, Melody Settrington had secured her financial security as well as that of her family. However, with his nephew Nelson set to inherit the earl’s title and fortune upon his death, that security would have only been temporary, her future dependent entirely upon the settlement of her husband’s will. To thwart Nelson’s inheritance and to ensure her and her family’s continued wellbeing, she would have needed a child, an heir to the Edgington fortune. As much as he wished to believe it wasn’t so, all of the pieces appeared to fit perfectly into place.

  “Thank you Mr. Beckett, you have been most thorough,” Gavin said, rising to his feet. “And of course, your continued discretion is of utmost importance.” His voice held the hint of a warning. Although Mr. Beckett didn’t know the full details of his abduction, nor the purpose of it, the man clearly wasn’t stupid and had likely pieced together more of the situation than he would have liked.

  Mr. Beckett stood, his expression earnest. “You have my word, Your Grace.”

  “Home,” Gavin ordered as he stepped up into his waiting coach. Then, once the door had closed firmly behind him, he finally allowed his tightly controlled mask to slip away. Resting his head against the cushioned seatback, he closed his eyes and struggled to draw breath, feeling as if a dense, crushing weight was suddenly pressing against his chest. It isn’t true, it cannot be true, the voice inside his head decried, despite all that he had just learned. He thought back to those days, to those incredible afternoons they’d shared. How could it all have been a lie? Surely there had to be another explanation.

  His thoughts turned to the past weeks, to the air of enchanting artlessness that Melody Cavendish projected. How could she possibly look him in the eye or speak to
him with such charming ingenuousness, if any of it were true? Her entire manner, as well as virtually every word she’d said would have had to have been a deliberate and calculated act. It seemed implausible. Sitting forward, Gavin abruptly moved across the coach and opened the small door behind the coachman’s perch. After issuing new instructions to his driver, he regained his seat. He would have his answers soon enough.

  Less than twenty minutes later, Gavin exited his coach in front of the Cavendish residence. Striding up the walk to the front entrance, he rang the bell and then waited for the door to open. When it did, he immediately handed the butler his card. “Please inform Lady Edgington that I wish to speak with her at once,” he said, moving past the uniformed butler and stepping into the front hall.

  Startled, the man looked down at the card he held in his gloved hand and then swiftly back up to Gavin. “Forgive me, Your Grace, I wasn’t aware that her ladyship was expecting you,” he said, clearly disconcerted by Gavin’s unanticipated arrival and surprising request.

  “She isn’t.” With that said, he ignored the butler’s obvious astonishment and walked purposefully to the front parlor without so much as a backward glance. Determined to speak with Melody as soon as possible, he simply didn’t have the time or the patience to deal with proper social etiquette.

  Once inside, he glanced restlessly about the tastefully decorated room. Ignoring the settee and matching chairs, his gaze landed on the ornate cabinet set against the far wall. Hell, he could use a drink right about now, he thought. Walking over to it, he pulled open the door and found exactly what he was looking for. Pouring himself a full snifter of brandy, he downed it in one long swallow. Then, setting down the glass with a loud thump, he moved to stand before one of the tall front windows to wait. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long.

  Pulling the large double-doors closed behind her, Melody entered the room just minutes after being informed of the Duke of Rutherford’s unexpected arrival. With her heart in her throat, she’d made her way downstairs, a thousand different thoughts racing through her mind. Surely it wasn’t what she feared, but something else entirely that had brought him to her door unannounced. It had to be, but what? His back was to her now as he stood gazing out the front window, seemingly unaware of her entrance into the room. “Your Grace, what a pleasant surprise,” she said as she approached, making a concerted effort to keep her voice steady. He turned then, and her heart seemed to leap to her throat as his gaze fell upon her, halting her mid-stride. She could see it in his eyes. He knows.