A Timeless Romance Anthology: European Collection

by Annette Lyon

  Now a horrible thought assailed Melissa. It surely should have occurred to her before now! Did Thomas elope with me to secure my fortune?

  No. He could not have. Her father had kept the amount of her dowry a secret. There was no way Thomas or anyone among the ton could have known she had thirty thousand pounds.

  Melissa released the breath she had been holding. “Papa sets a great store by rank. He pushed for a marriage to Viscount Trowbridge even before my supposed indiscretion. He will be thrilled that his daughter is a countess. I suppose it is too much to expect that you are a fire-breathing Whig?”

  “I am afraid so. My family have been Tories for eons.”

  It seemed very odd to Melissa that she did not know such basic things about him, even though the night before had provided her with intimate knowledge of another sort. She began to feel uneasy. Had she been so elated to find a way out of the engagement her father had forced upon her that she had made a mistake? Taking another deep breath, she put the thought firmly behind her.

  “Do you take an active role in Parliament?” she asked.

  “I have not yet taken up my seat in the Lords, but that does not mean that I will not.”

  “Are you aware of my father’s position in the Whig party? He is one of the leading lights.”

  “Yes, Lord Kent. He has taken up a stand for the repeal of the Corn Laws.”

  “I know this is a ridiculous question to ask of you at this time, but have you any strong feelings about the Corn Law Tariffs? I agree with Papa’s stance. A tariff keeps the price of grain so high that poor people cannot buy bread.”

  “I grow grain on my estate, Melissa. If the tariffs remain in place, the price I get for my crops will be stable and adequate to make a profit. This benefits you and our future children.”

  Melissa swallowed but remained silent. Yes, our children will have plenty to eat, but what about the poor?

  “Such talk is absurd,” she said, forcing a little laugh and tightening her grip on Thomas’s hand. “What matters is that I love you and you love me. Not the price of corn.”

  Her new husband took her in his arms and looked into her face. His eyes were remarkably expressive. The fires that had stirred within them when he was aroused were now banked somewhere in their depths. At the moment, they caressed her with a tender light.

  “I do love you,” he said.

  He began kissing the nape of her neck. She quivered at the slightest touch of his lips, the quivers growing into shakes as he kissed her along her hairline until he met her ear. He whispered, “You are my wife. Is it not wonderful?” There was a catch in his voice, but then he moved his lips to Melissa’s closed eyelids, to the tip of her nose, and finally, to her mouth. His passion grew steadily until it engulfed her, warming her from the inside out. She was glad they had had at least three days together in wayside inns before returning to London and facing the consequences of their actions. There was bound to be scandal, and her mother, at least, would not be pleased.

  On their wedding night, they stayed at the King’s Arms in Lancaster. For dinner, they had shepherd’s pie and wine then spent the night in each other’s arms. The next day, by making an early start, they got all the way to Birmingham. For a bit of diversion, Melissa played cards with her new husband and won three guineas.

  “I hope you are not a gambler, sir. Either you are letting me win, or you play very ill indeed.”

  He laughed and managed to look like a mischievous boy. His tanned complexion and sun-kissed hair, mussed from running his fingers through it, told her that he spent much time in outdoor sport. She ought to know more about him than she did. Was he indeed a sports-mad Corinthian? Melissa hoped that he avoided excessive addiction to betting and dangerous horse-racing.

  Casting these thoughts aside, she put her head on his chest, and recalled the first time she had looked into those expressive brown eyes. Melissa remembered the delicious sensation of falling headlong into bliss with a man who seemed to see her innermost self. It had been during her first waltz at her come-out ball. That night, as she recalled the sensation from the warmth of her bed, she had written in her journal, “Our souls kissed.”

  Now, as his hand rubbed circles on her back, she asked, “What did you think of me when you first met me?”

  He kissed her forehead. “It was uncanny, actually. There seemed to be no barriers at all between us when we waltzed. I thought you could see straight inside me. But later, I thought I must have been mistaken. It was several weeks before you even looked my way again.”

  “I felt the same way about you, but I convinced myself that it was only because I was such a green girl.” She put up a hand to caress his face. “Thank heavens you were persistent. The night of the masquerade ball, it all came back to me. I think it was because of that daring Red Indian costume you wore.”

  He chuckled. “Planned with you in mind, my love. I was a peacock, fanning my tail for you.”

  “It worked,” she said, initiating a burning kiss.

  The following day, they arrived in London at ten o’clock in the evening. Exhausted by three long days in the carriage, Melissa felt her stomach grow increasingly tight at the thought of greeting her parents. They were certain to be angry about the scandal she had undoubtedly caused by running off to the Border with one man while engaged to another. By the time they pulled up in front of Kent House, she had a pounding headache.

  Chapter Two

  Papa was not pleased. Thomas stood beside Melissa, his arm securely about her waist, as her father bellowed, “This man may be an earl, but he hasn’t a sou! I didn’t think any daughter of mine could be such a ninnyhammer.”

  “Papa, please. Calm yourself.”

  “Your mother and I are not blind, Melissa. We know you had a preference for Trowbridge. Why do you think we made certain we secured him for you?”

  Melissa could not stop the blush flooding her face so violently that she became dizzy.

  Her husband withdrew his arm. “Is this true, Melissa? You had a tendre for Trowbridge?”

  She could not be less than honest. “At one time. Before I found out that he was in love with Sophie.” Turning to face Thomas, she looked into his somber, dark eyes and took both of his hands in hers. “You know I love you, Thomas. If I did not, I can assure you I never would have married you.”

  He stood tall and straight with indignation, his full mouth set in a grim line. Even so, she loved his aristocratic face with its noble forehead, cleft chin, and high-bridged nose. “I tumbled into love with you at my come-out ball. I stood in this very room and told Sophie about you. I even danced around, holding your posy of yellow roses as my partner.”

  His look softened. “I sent them because they reminded me of your hair.”

  Lord Kent grumbled. When it came right down to it, her father could deny her nothing.

  “I guess we had better go to the library, my lord, and talk settlements,” her father said. Turning to her, he murmured, “I certainly hope you know what you are about, Melissa. It is too late now to do anything about it.”

  She gave him her sunniest smile. “I love Thomas, Papa. Let there be no doubt of it.”

  During dinner, her mother’s eyes were red rimmed, and Melissa could almost hear her thoughts. I have but one daughter, and now I am to be denied seeing her married at St. George’s in satin and lace. My beautiful girl. How could she be so cruel?

  Melissa dreaded the time they would spend in the drawing room while the men were at their cigars and port. Thomas had winked at her when he came out from the conference in the library, so she knew the money was all right. Papa would never let her live like a pauper.

  She was right about her mother. When the two of them sat at opposite ends of the sofa in the drawing room, she let fly all of her complaints and recriminations.

  “You thought of no one but yourself. It has always been the same. You are an unnatural daughter; that is what you are. A mother always looks forward to her daughter’s wedding. Just you
wait and see. I hope you will have but one daughter, and I hope that she will flee off to Scotland in the midst of a scandal!”

  “Come, Mama. I know it is a disappointment to you, but my wedding is not the end of my life! And I shall be but two streets away in Grosvenor Square when we open up Oaksey House. There is nothing to say you cannot throw a ball, as elaborate as you please, for Thomas and me.”

  “I do not even know where his estate lies,” her mother said.

  “In Suffolk. Quite a beautiful old home, he tells me. Sixteenth century, and not far from London. See? I know you and Papa prefer to live here year round. We shall not go down to Bury St. Edmunds until the end of the Season, and it is only April. We have two more months together at least.”

  Lady Kent made a great to do of inhaling over her vinaigrette and dabbing at her eyes. Finally, the gentlemen appeared.

  “Well, my dear,” Thomas said. “You father has invited us to stay on here until we get Oaksey house opened up.”

  Melissa’s heart sank. She had been hoping for Grillon’s Hotel. What bride wishes to stay with her family when she is only just married?

  Chapter Three

  Melissa woke to find her husband no longer beside her in bed. Stilling her disappointment, she rang for her maid, quickly washed, and was helped into her turquoise striped muslin. She told Stella to style her thick blonde hair quickly in a simple chignon. Melissa yearned to see Thomas.

  However, when she arrived at the breakfast table, she found only a note and a key awaiting her.

  Dear One,

  I had to go out to discharge some long overdue business. I shall doubtless be gone most of the day. Perhaps you and your mama would care to go over Oaksey House in my absence and determine what you would like to do to refurbish it. You may do whatever you like, with the exception of decorating in either chartreuse or puce. I shall not be home for dinner, if you could kindly inform your mama.

  Yours,

  O.

  What a very unloverlike letter! And what business could he have in such a rush? Why would he not be home for dinner? Melissa did not want to view Oaksey House for the first time without him. Decisions about the house should be made together. Not with her mama.

  Melissa’s brother, Lord Donald, entered the breakfast room and went to the sideboard. “What?” he said. “Is Oaksey a slug-a-bed?”

  “No,” Melissa said.

  “Gone out and left you miffed, has he?”

  Donald’s most irritating flaw was his cheerfulness.

  “He has business,” Melissa said.

  “I am certain he does. He has been pockets-to-let this age.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Debts, my dear sister. Surely you knew. He’s in debt to everyone. Apparently, that estate of his eats money.”

  Melissa closed her eyes and bit her tongue. “You exaggerate. You always do.”

  “Not this time. When I told Oaksey about your dowry...”

  “What!” Melissa exclaimed. “When you did what?”

  Her brother shrugged. “I was by way of helping out. Knew you didn’t want to marry Trowbridge. Thought of Oaksey. Knew he’d go for it in an instant.”

  “Because... because of my dowry? How could you, Donald?”

  Melissa rose and dashed from the room, her heart lanced with pain. Tears burned at the backs of her eyes. She concentrated on attaining the one place she could escape discovery.

  Clattering up the stairs to the third floor, she flew through the doors to the nursery. Sunshine flooded the rooms, which smelled of disinfectant and floor polish. At this moment, she welcomed the bracing smell. She closed the doors, wishing she could slam them without drawing notice to herself, and flung open the window leading onto the roof. Stepping out, Melissa watched her feet as she walked close to the nursery chimney.

  Just as when she had been punished as a child, she hugged the cold stone to keep from falling off the slates. How could she have been so deceived as to think the man she married loved her?

  His proposal to elope had come at the perfect time, so she had swept away all doubts about its obvious prematurity. Crying bitter tears, she wondered if she should have married Trowbridge instead. He had compromised her. Not intentionally, of course. He had needed her help, and she had given it willingly.

  But how could she ever have married Frank when he loved Sophie deeply? So desperately that he convinced them both not to care about the consequences when he asked Melissa to show him how to break into Sophie’s house in the middle of the night. He had been aflame with his need to see her when she was deathly ill. Returning to the ball after their visit with her, Melissa and Frank had been discovered leaving the carriage together. Papa had declared her ruined. Of course, she was not ruined, and Papa’s actions had only made the scandal worse.

  He had wanted Frank for her the moment he met him. They had played right into his hands with their thoughtless behavior.

  But she and Frank would have been dreadfully unhappy married to one another. And Sophie, who had never had much happiness, would have been bereft.

  But now! Now, it was Melissa who was heartbroken. She had married a fortune hunter. Worse than that, she had thought he loved her. He had told her so for the first time on the balcony at the masquerade ball. And his kiss!

  Looking back, she could see clearly why she had agreed to his idea of an elopement. She had been so blinded by the prospect of escaping her unwanted engagement that she had been thrilled at his idea. After such a short acquaintance, she knew nothing of his debts. Yet it was her fortune he wanted. It now made sense that he would not want to waste time courting in the normal way. She had been a fool.

  She would not live in a sham of a marriage. Especially now that she knew in intimate detail what was involved. Melissa would rather be alone. Surely this new knowledge of his true nature would work to smother her own love if she kept away from him.

  She would live in the townhouse on her own. Oaksey could keep his rooms or hire another establishment. With her money. She did not care about the gossip.

  Let him get a mistress if he pleases. All I care about is that he never... touches me again.

  Melissa let herself into Oaksey House using Thomas’s key. The house smelled of dust and mildew. She wrinkled her nose. How long had it been shut up? It would take a lot of work to make the place livable.

  Walking through the hall, she came upon a downstairs sitting room, probably the morning room. She threw back the dusty drapes and opened the windows. She did the same in the other ground-floor rooms— a library smelling of leather and book paste, and a massive ballroom. Downstairs was a kitchen with no stove, but an open fireplace. Positively archaic.

  On the first floor, she opened the windows in the drawing room, dining room, and two small saloons. She moved to the second floor and found the master suite. It was dark and brooding, with heavy mahogany furniture, dark blue velvet bed hangings and drapes, and matching carpets. Nothing opened from it but a masculine dressing room. So master and mistress were expected to share this room. She found four other bedrooms but no boudoir. The masculine dressing room would have to be converted for her use.

  She went back to the master suite, where she yanked on the draperies and bed hangings until they fell in clouds of dust. She opened the windows, letting in the spring air and light. Yes, this would be a pleasant room when she refurbished it. Perhaps lavender and white stripes, with rose and leaf-green accents. The crown molding, now varnished wood, she would have repainted in white.

  Melissa decided to begin her efforts in this room and the morning room on the ground floor. Those would be the most used while she lived here alone.

  The very first thing to do was hire servants— a cook, a butler, a downstairs maid, and a chamber maid. She would bring her personal maid, Stella.

  By the end of the day, with her mother’s help, Melissa had hired servants from an employment registry to begin working the next day. With the help of Stella, her mother’s footman, and the fa
mily carriage, she had transferred linens and all of her personal effects to Oaksey House. While Stella unpacked Melissa’s things in the master suite, her mother gave advice regarding what she would need to modernize her kitchen.

  “It is really appalling,” Lady Kent said. “I do not know how long it must be since anyone has lived in this place. No cook today could be expected to prepare meals under such conditions! We must buy you a stove at once.” She drew herself up and continued. “As for the mildew, we shall consult Mrs. Hutchins. I have never encountered a housekeeping problem she did not know how to deal with. In fact, I think it best if I lend her to you for at least two weeks until you get this place in order.”

  “Thank you, Mother. That will be most helpful. She can also organize my staff.”

  “The house will be grand when you have refurbished it. While it is being cleaned tomorrow, we will go to the drapers and look at pattern books.” Melissa could not have chosen more wisely any activity guaranteed to cause her mother to be more resigned to her marriage.

  She ate at home with her parents.

  “So where is this husband of yours, gel?” her father asked.

  “I have no idea,” Melissa answered, trying to effect the manners of a tolerant spouse long married. “He left word that he would not be home for dinner. I do not expect him to live in my pocket.”

  After her parents had gone up to bed, Melissa and Stella left the house, accompanied by Stern, her father’s footman, whom Papa insisted escort them for safety. They walked to Oaksey House in Grosvenor Square. When Stella had helped her mistress to undress, they said goodnight and retired.

  Melissa lay alone in her freshly made bed, fighting tears after a long, arduous, and heartbreaking day. How could she have been so duped? Oaksey had deceived her utterly. Remembering the intimacies of her honeymoon, she still had difficulty believing they were not motivated by sincere feeling. However, she had often been told that men could indulge themselves in what seemed to her to be intimate behavior without any regard for the woman. Surely, if he loved her, he would not have left her their first day in London, going off to spend his newly acquired fortune.