He sighed, closing his eyes.
Please, Lord, just let Melissa tell me that all this is a misunderstanding and I shall do anything.
“Rise and shine My Lady!” Brynn trilled with excitement and Melissa groaned.
“Whyyy?” she moaned.
“Because we are going to the market! What else?”
Melissa frowned. “I don’t want to go to the market.”
“Yes, you do.”
Melissa got up on her elbows so she could properly glare up at Brynn. “No, Brynn. I don’t,” she said very firmly.
Her lady’s maid simply raised smug eyebrows at her. “What if I told you that a certain Marquess will be waiting for you at the market?”
Melissa shot to her knees. “I beg your pardon?” She clutched at Brynn’s shawl, eyes wide and desperate. Brynn laughed in her face.
Melissa’s face filled with color and she let go of Brynn’s shawl with disgust. “You are the last person I expected to play with my feelings,” she spat.
“Oh, swallow your spleen, My Lady. He truly is waiting for you. I was just laughing at how animated you became as soon as you heard his name. Why did you even bother to try and end things if that is how you feel?”
Melissa struggled out of bed, still huffing with annoyance. “That is none of your business.”
Brynn stopped smiling. “Forgive me, My Lady. I have just been so worried. It was nice to see your eyes light up again.”
Melissa felt her heart soften at the words, though she wasn’t going to show her forgiveness so easily. “I suppose,” she murmured. “Get me my costume, would you?”
“I have it right here,” Brynn said handing it to her. Melissa dressed quietly before another question occurred to her.
“Did the Marquess send a note?”
“What?”
“Did he send a note? Is that how he arranged the meeting?”
“No. He came by last night.”
“What?”
Brynn grinned. “Yes, he knocked on the servants’ entrance and asked for me.”
Melissa’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, My Lord! Who else knows about this?”
“Just Caleb. He's the one who opened the door.”
“Which one is Caleb?”
Brynn sighed, rolling her eyes. “The boot boy.”
“I’m sorry! It's difficult to keep track of everybody’s names, ‘specially the new ones.”
“I know. It's not like you speak to them much.”
“Exactly. But thank Caleb for me, will you?” she fished in her pocket. “Here’s a gold coin for him.”
“For his silence?” Brynn gave her a wry grin.
“For everything.”
Brynn pocketed the coin silently, as Melissa covered her head with a shawl and they tiptoed toward the back entrance.
Lynn Sumner had worked for the Greyfield House since she was twelve years old and her own mother was the housekeeper. Now she had that role and her daughter was lady’s maid to Lady Melissa Alford. She would have preferred that Brynn catered to the elder daughter, seeing as she was the favorite child.
She sighed, getting up from the makeshift pallet she’d made on the floor and checked on her mistress. She was sleeping peacefully, not a hint of trouble in her breathing. Whatever had assailed her yesterday, it seemed to have passed.
She walked to the door and opened it to tell the footman that they were ready for them to bring hot water for The Duchess. Building up the fire so that the room was warm, she stood aside so a cauldron of water could be added. The steam was good for The Duchess' chest and she added in some mint and thyme as well.
Then she began to straighten the room as she thought of her day’s duties. The tisanes she still had to make, planning meals, and watching over her mistress. But Lynn was happy to do it.
The Duke stepped into the room, and Lynn looked up and then hurriedly curtsied.
“How is she doing?” he asked quietly.
“I believe she is feeling better, Your Grace.”
He nodded his understanding. “Good. Would you wake her, please?”
Lynn crossed over and gently shook her mistress. “Your Grace? Tis time to wake,” she said in a low voice.
The Duchess stirred, stretching in bed before turning to face Lynn and The Duke.
“Oh,” she said when her eyes fell on him.
“I wanted to check on you before I left,” he said.
She smiled. “I am perfectly fine.”
He took a step closer. “Oh, I know you are. What are you up to, Thalia?”
Lynn froze, not knowing if she should make herself invisible or leave.
The Duchess sighed, leaning back on her pillows. “I am at my wit’s end with your daughter. I had to do something.”
“This is all to curb Melissa’s impulses?” The Duke said in disbelief.
The Duchess shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”
Lynn made herself as small as she could as she chose an appropriate gown for The Duchess to wear after her ablutions.
Chapter 15
Partition
Patrick was waiting by the flower girls. They kept coming up to him and thrusting their wares in his face. He had bought a bundle of peonies just to get them to leave him alone. Also, he thought it might be a good gesture that would go over well with Melissa.
He spotted them before they saw him, plodding along on their horses, baskets in hand. He watched them come, seeing the familiar shawl which Melissa used to wear as part of her disguise. His eyes went to her feet but he saw that instead of slippers, she wore boots today.
He looked up and found she had caught sight of him. Their eyes locked, hers sad and defeated. He wanted to be her knight in shining armor and fight her dragons. He couldn’t do that if she pushed him away.
“Melissa,” he said as she came to a stop next to him.
“Patrick.”
There was a pregnant silence.
“I got your missive. It was a bit mystifying.”
“What was mystifying about it? I felt I was quite clear.”
“The day before yesterday, we resolved to be together and then yesterday you change your mind? You did not strike me as indecisive.”
Melissa slipped off her horse and began to walk toward the trees. Patrick fell into step beside her. They walked silently for some time before Melissa turned to Patrick.
“If I was all alone in the world and my actions affected no one but myself, I would be with you in the wink of an eye. But that is not the case. Our relationship not only involves both our families but also the rules of society! We can’t flout them all, and even if we could, I am not willing to risk my mother’s health.”
“Your mother’s health? What do you mean by that?”
“My mother got sick because of my behavior. I have to do better. That means letting you go and allowing your engagement to my sister to continue.”
“And what about my feelings? Do they not matter?”
“You had enough feeling for Rose to ask for her hand!”
“I was cornered. Yes, I was to blame for that but don’t confuse that with having any feelings. The only person I love is you. I cannot let you cast me away in such a manner. There are simply too few things that I want in life and you are on top of that list.”
Melissa’s bottom lip trembled and for a moment, Patrick thought she might break down. Then she firmed up her chin, took a deep breath and looked up at him, lashes glistening. “I’m sorry. I wish things could be different.”
To hear his own words thrown back at him was like a stab to the gut. When she walked away directly afterward, it was the killing blow. He hunched over, trying to keep some sort of balance. He felt like sinking to the ground and screaming. He watched as she climbed onto her beast and rode off, her lady’s maid throwing him a sympathetic glance over her shoulder.
He wanted to scream for somebody to help him but there was nobody who would.
It’s true what they say; you do not know what yo
u had until you lose it, he thought with despair.
The Duke waited until the housekeeper had left before coming to sit by Thalia’s bed.
“Now, tell me why you are so determined for this man to marry Rose and not Melissa.”
“You say that as if I have some nefarious motives instead of just wanting my children to get married in the right order.”
“Is that so? Melissa seems just as taken with this man as Rose. Why interfere? Why not let them decide? What is it that is so special about this particular man?”
Thalia looked away. “Rose wants him.”
The Duke shook his head. “Why do her needs take precedence?”
Thalia turned her head to glare at him. “She’s your first born. Shouldn't you be concerned with her welfare too?”
“Of course, I do. And I am aware that Melissa needs to be taken in hand. But this feels excessive.”
“Whatever works, Greyfield. Don't they say that all is fair in love and war?”
The Duke inclined his head. “And which one is this?”
Thalia simply looked away without saying a word.
Melissa stumbled into the house and scrambled up the stairs without waiting for Brynn to catch up to her. Her vision was blurry with tears and she could barely stand.
Be careful what you wish for.
She had thought she wanted to see Patrick fight for her but she had reckoned without seeing the pain and misery in his eyes. He really did care for her. Melissa might have thought before, that knowledge would hearten her, instead, it was threatening to break her completely.
For the first time in her life, she felt like an adult–even with the troubles with her mother, she had never realized how alone she was. There was nobody she could go to for advice or guidance. This issue was hers to solve.
How am I supposed to live with Patrick Dutton as my brother-in-law? She wondered desperately. It was one thing to have cut him loose. It was another to have to see him court and eventually, marry her sister. To have to be with them at family events. To see them have children together.
What was she supposed to do? Was she to enter a relationship of convenience? Of advantage? Something cold and bereft of feeling while she watched the love of her life grow old with her sister?
How would that even work? There seemed to be no happy outcome to this terrible situation.
Well, at least her mother would be happy. The woman seemed to want nothing more than Melissa to be miserable forever. Her wish was about to be granted.
She flopped onto her bed, staring at the ceiling in despair.
Lynn Sumner had watched the youngest Alford daughter drag herself up the stairs and her heart sunk. Melissa and Brynn were close which meant that Lynn knew a lot more about her than she imagined. She and her daughter remained close, and Lynn had often stood in the gap left by Melissa’s own mother.
What Her Grace was doing to both of her daughters was wrong. If this man was enamored of one but forced to marry the other, the entire family would fall apart. How were they to relate? She did not understand why Her Grace did not see that. It was glaringly obvious to Lynn.
There was not much she could do about it though.
“Mama?” Lynn turned to find Brynn standing in the doorway of her rooms. As head housekeeper, she had her own space where she could keep the household records and where she did most of the planning for running the house. It was equipped with an adjoining bedchamber and she was changing into her uniform for the day when Brynn appeared.
Her eyes were wide with misery.
“What is it, girl?”
Brynn walked into the chamber, closing the door behind her and sat on the chair with a sigh. “What am I to do, Mama? Melissa is drowning in the mulligrubs.”
“It is not your place to do something about that. It's your place to make sure she’s dressed and coiffed.”
Brynn just sighed, looking defeated and Lynn’s shoulders dropped with frustration.
“She is really in love with that boy?”
Brynn shook her head. “You have no idea mother. I have never seen her so alive as she has been since she met him. And now...”
Lynn came to sit down beside her. “Tell me everything that has happened.”
Brynn climbed the stairs slowly, not eager to wake Melissa from her fitful, uneasy sleep. She had opted to spend the night in her lady’s chambers out of fear of leaving Melissa alone. She had watched sadly as Melissa tossed and turned, making sounds of distress in her sleep.
She put down the tray of chocolate and crumpets on the armoire before walking slowly to the bed and shaking her mistress awake.
“Rise and shine,” she said softly.
Melissa made a sound of protest, moving away from Brynn’s hand.
“My Lady?” Brynn called which simply caused Melissa to burrow deeper into her blankets.
“I brought you chocolate and news,” she said.
Melissa sighed before sitting up slowly and regarding Brynn with bleary eyes. “Tell me.”
“Your mother is feeling better.”
Melissa dropped her eyes. “That’s good.”
“Whatever made her have an episode, it’s over now.”
Hazel eyes pierced her with hopelessness. “Is it?”
Brynn just looked away.
Patrick knew he had to think about what Melissa had said and come to some conclusion but it hurt too much at the moment. He decided he would think about it after getting as jug bitten as possible. He was just reaching for the gin when his father was announced.
Patrick sighed.
“Send him in.”
The impatient tap of his father’s walking stick preceded him as he marched into the room, his face dark and stormy.
“What is this I hear of you attempting to break your engagement, son? What could possibly have possessed you?”
Patrick sighed, staring regretfully at the bottle of gin he had yet to start on. He would have liked to have been at least half sprung before having this conversation but here they were.
“I fear I have fallen in love with Lady Melissa Alford, father. I know she's not who you wanted, but she is still Greyfield’s daughter.”
“Have you forgotten our predicament, Bergon? Don't you realize we have already lost business? Why can’t you just do as I tell you and trust that I know what I’m about?”
“Father, you know I trust you. But…”
“No buts, son. If you trust me, then you do as I say.”
Patrick sighed, giving in and reaching for the bottle of gin. He poured three fingers into his glass and gulped it down, eyes boring into his father’s, not saying a word.
“I can’t.” His voice was so quiet it was a surprise that his father heard him.
“You will, Bergon. You will do it for the sake of your future. If I am ruined, the entire family is ruined. I want you to keep that in mind at all times.”
Patrick poured more gin into his glass.
Patrick had given Henry the night off. Having returned the previous night at 4 am and found him still faithfully waiting, the reward had been two nights off and Henry was determined to use them in a gainful way. The girl, Brynn, was a lady’s maid which meant she was probably busy all evening. However, she just might consent to take the evening air with him while her mistress was at dinner.
Henry thought it was worth finding out.
He walked slowly toward Mayfair, a feeling of trepidation burgeoning in his chest. He circled to the back of the houses, walking at a leisurely stroll in the gathering twilight. Others might think him stupid for not taking the opportunity to either rest or visit the taverns, but Henry happened to think this was a much better use of his time.
He stopped, hearing voices carrying toward him in the mist. He wasn’t normally an eavesdropper but he had heard his master’s name mentioned.
“But Mama, if The Duchess is just hamming it up to stop My Lady from being with Lord Bergon, shouldn’t we at least tell her.”
“Wheest!” the r
eply was sharp and angry. “Do you wish to end up on the streets?”
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