Chapter 5
Chapter Five
With quick, determined steps, Melody descended the grand staircase, her gaze fixed ahead as she made her way towards the rear of the manor. She had one goal in mind: escape, if only for a little while, from the infuriating Lord Emberly. She wanted to be alone, a chance to clear her thoughts without his incessant presence. Despite being a spy, the man seemed to have nothing better to do than to shadow her every move. Surely, he had more pressing matters to attend to.
As she approached the stables, she sighed in relief, grateful that she had not encountered anyone along the way. The familiar scent of hay and manure greeted her as she pushed open the heavy stable door, bringing with it a sense of comfort. But that comfort was short-lived. She heard the unmistakable sound of Lord Emberly’s voice reach her ears, and she froze, her heart sinking.
Of course, he was here.
Curiosity curbed her instinct to flee, and despite herself, she ventured further into the stables, her booted footsteps echoing softly in the quiet. There he was, saddling his horse with a practiced ease that surprised her. Why was he performing such a menial task himself? Did he not know that the grooms were there for precisely this reason?
Lord Emberly tightened the strap on his saddle but paused as he saw her. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “Lady Melody, I was wondering when you would join me for a ride.”
Taken back by his assumption, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I am not joining you for anything.”
His smile didn’t falter. “I was under the impression that you go on a ride around this time each day.”
“I do,” she replied curtly, “but I ride alone.”
“Well, today is your lucky day,” he said, his cheerful tone grating on her nerves. “You won’t have to ride alone. I will accompany you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I do not wish for your company.”
He clucked his tongue in mock disapproval. “What kind of protector would I be if I allowed you to go alone?”
Melody tilted her chin defiantly. “You, sir, are not my protector. As I have told you countless times, I can take care of myself.”
“Be that as it may, I want to ensure you are safe,” Lord Emberly responded with maddening calm. “If that means keeping my distance, so be it.”
“You are infuriating,” Melody muttered.
Lord Emberly’s lips twitched. “I have been called much worse. By you, no less.”
Before she could reply, the groom approached and cleared his throat. “My lady, your horse is ready,” he said, gesturing to the gelding that awaited her.
“Thank you, Jack,” Melody responded.
“Perfect timing,” Lord Emberly remarked as he opened the stall door. “My horse is ready as well.”
Biting back the sharp retort that hovered on her tongue, Melody walked over to her horse. There was no point in arguing further with Lord Emberly. He would do as he pleased regardless of her wishes. It only aggravated her more that he didn’t seem to believe she could protect herself.
The groom placed a small stool by the horse, and Melody stepped up gracefully, settling into the saddle. She didn’t wait for Lord Emberly. Instead, she urged her horse into a swift gallop, eager to put some distance between them. The familiar feeling of the wind whipping against her face brought a sense of freedom and exhilaration, which she cherished during her solitary rides.
But today, she wasn’t alone.
Lord Emberly’s horse easily kept pace with hers, his presence a constant reminder of her frustration. She reined in her horse at the top of a hill, her breath catching slightly as she took in the sweeping view of the valley below. It was a sight that never failed to stir something profound within her.
Lord Emberly came to a stop beside her, his gaze following hers. “You are a magnificent rider,” he said, his voice holding a note of genuine admiration.
“You sound surprised,” she remarked.
“No, nothing about you surprises me anymore,” Lord Emberly said. There was something almost akin to a compliment in his words, though she couldn’t be sure.
Melody kept her gaze on the horizon. “How long do you intend to stay here?”
“As long as it takes,” he replied, his voice firm.
She turned her head towards him. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I suppose it is rather vague, but I must ensure you are safe.”
“I am safe,” she insisted.
Lord Emberly’s face grew solemn, his usual teasing demeanor replaced by something much more severe. “You may think you are, but the French want you dead. And the agency can’t afford to lose you.”
Melody tightened her grip on her reins. “I can take care of myself. I have proven it before and will do so again—without hesitation.”
“With all due respect,” Lord Emberly said, his tone almost gentle, “what do you know about making hard calls when the situation demands it?”
A heavy silence fell between them before Melody spoke again, her voice quieter now. “My aunt was being abused by her husband, and I knew there was only one choice in the matter. He had to die.”
Lord Emberly’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You have killed before?”
“It was either my aunt or my uncle,” Melody replied, her voice steady though the emotions churned inside of her. “I do not regret my choice, but I still am haunted by that decision.”
“Taking another person’s life is not something you will ever get over, but it does get easier with time,” Lord Emberly said.
Melody turned towards him as she studied his face. His expression was guarded, but the way his jaw tightened told her that the memories he carried were as raw as her own. “You seem to speak from experience.”
“I do,” he said, his words clipped as if each one was drawn from a well of pain he had long tried to bury. For a moment, the mask he wore so well slipped, revealing a flicker of vulnerability before he quickly turned his face away.
She heard the unspoken sorrow in his tone, the kind that only someone who had been through the same harrowing ordeal could recognize. A surprising wave of empathy washed over her, and for the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel so entirely alone.
“It is ironic,” she said, “that we write so much to one another, yet we know nothing about each other.”
“It is, but that is the nature of our work,” Lord Emberly acknowledged.
“I do not contest that,” Melody said, her eyes searching his. “But don’t you ever get lonely? Doing what we do, always on guard, never able to share our true selves with anyone?”
Lord Emberly’s gaze flickered away. “It is simpler that way,” he remarked as if trying to convince himself as much as her.
Melody could see the truth in his words but also the weight they carried. And for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she felt a sudden urge to reach out to him, to offer some measure of comfort. “Will you tell me one thing about yourself that no one knows?”
Lord Emberly’s brow furrowed. “And what would be the purpose of that?”
“There is no harm in getting to know one another, is there?” Melody asked. “After all, you are a guest at Brockhall Manor.”
It seemed he would refuse her request for a moment, but then, to her surprise, he relented. “On occasion,” he began, his voice carefully measured, “I will garden with my mother.”
“You, a gardener?” Melody asked.
“I never said I was good at it,” he corrected her with a faint smile. “But I do it to appease my mother. It brings her joy.”
A playful grin tugged at Melody’s lips. “I daresay that you and Mr. Artemis Nelson will get along quite nicely.”
Lord Emberly returned her smile. “The worst part is, I agree with him. You should never plant butterfly weeds next to impatiens.”
“I know very little about gardening, but I can appreciate our well-maintained gardens,” Melody said.
His gaze softened as he turned the conversation back to her. “What about you? What secrets are you keeping?”
Melody huffed. “I feel like all I do is keep secrets,” she confessed. “No one truly knows me because I am afraid of letting anyone in.”
“That is to be expected.”
“Perhaps,” she murmured, “but it is hard to lie to my family. I understand why I must, but it is difficult, hiding a part of myself from them.”
There was a brief pause before Lord Emberly responded. “I am most fortunate that my sister knows the truth about me. It is a comfort not having to shoulder everything alone.”
His admission piqued Melody’s curiosity. “How did it come to pass that Rosella became a spy?”
Lord Emberly’s expression shifted, his face becoming unreadable once more. “That is not my story to share, and that is all I will say on the matter.”
Recognizing the firmness in his voice, Melody decided to let the matter drop… for now. “Shall we return to Brockhall Manor now?”
“We can, but only after you tell me one thing about yourself that no one knows,” Lord Emberly said.
Melody took a moment to consider her response. “I can brew my own beer. Our cook taught me how to make spruce beer, and I have perfected the recipe over the years.”
A flicker of amusement danced in Lord Emberly’s eyes. “I shall have to try some of this beer.”
“I would not get your hopes up since it is nothing special. I use loads of molasses for a sweeter taste.”
Lord Emberly held her gaze. “I am sure you are not giving yourself enough credit,” he said, his voice low and sincere.
The way he looked at her—his eyes filled with a quiet appreciation—unnerved Melody, stirring an unfamiliar sensation within her. She felt an overwhelming urge to flee, to distance herself from whatever was happening between them. She didn’t need—or want—his approval. They weren’t even friends. So why did she feel this inexplicable desire to learn more about him?
This would not do. She needed to keep Lord Emberly at arm’s length. It was safer that way—for both of them.
In a steady voice, Melody said, “I will race you back to the stables.” Without waiting for his response, she kicked her horse into a gallop, the wind whipping through her hair as she sped away, determined to leave her confusing emotions—and Lord Emberly—far behind.
As Wesley led Melody from the stables, a comfortable silence settled between them, each retreating into their own thoughts. He couldn’t help but find Melody intriguing, though he would never dare admit it—to her or anyone else. Her beauty was undeniable, but it wasn’t what captivated him. Her sharp intellect and the way her mind worked genuinely fascinated him. Melody was far more than others perceived her to be, a fact that was partly his doing. He had been the one to recruit her into this shadowed life, and with that thought came the familiar pang of guilt. He knew all too well the sacrifices required of an agent of the Crown, the loneliness that could seep into one’s soul.
They had just reached the back of the manor when the door swung open, and Elodie slipped out with a dramatic wave of her hand. “It is too late for me, but save yourself,” she declared, her tone exaggeratedly grave.
Melody dropped her hand from Wesley’s arm, her brows knitting in concern. “What is wrong?”
Elodie began to stride down the garden path. “Lord Belview has arrived and he is as vexing as ever. I am leaving, and I might never return.”
“Where will you go?” Melody asked, her tone half-amused, half-concerned.
“Does it matter?” Elodie asked, speaking over her shoulder. “I will create a new life for myself in the woodlands, where only the creatures will be my friends.”
Wesley turned to Melody, his voice low as he inquired, “Dare I ask what this is about?”
Melody’s lips quirked. “Elodie has quite the aversion to Lord Belview?—”
“An aversion?” Elodie interrupted, spinning around to face them. “No, it is far more than that. Lord Belview used to torment me relentlessly when we were younger. Do you remember when we played hide and seek?”
“We were young—” Melody started.
Elodie threw her hands up in the air, her expression one of exasperation. “I would hide, but Lord Belview would never ‘seek.’ Once, I was up in a tree for hours until my nursemaid found me.”
Wesley chuckled, the image of a young Elodie stranded in a tree amusing him more than it should have. “I do believe Lord Belview has changed his ways. We studied at Oxford together and never once played hide and seek.”
“A cheetah cannot change its spots,” Elodie stated.
A deep, familiar chuckle came from the doorway, and Wesley turned to see Lord Belview leaning against the door frame, a smile playing on his lips. “What nonsense are you spouting, Elodie?”
Elodie tilted her chin, meeting his gaze with defiance. “I am only telling the truth.”
“ Your truth,” Lord Belview corrected, “is a slightly different version of the actual truth.”
Wesley approached his friend, extending a hand in greeting. “Belview, it is good to see you. It has been far too long since we last saw one another.”
“It has,” Lord Belview agreed, his tone more serious. “My father is in poor health, and I have been running the estate in his place.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Wesley acknowledged.
Melody stepped forward, her voice gentle. “Were your parents able to accompany you on the journey?”
Lord Belview shook his head. “No, but they insisted I come. I hope that is not an inconvenience.”
“Not at all—” Melody began to assure him, only to be cut off by Elodie muttering, “Yes.”
Lord Belview’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he turned his gaze back to Elodie. “Please don’t say that. I came all this way to see you, Elodie. I wouldn’t dare deny you the pleasure of my company.”
“Well, you have seen me. You may go home now,” Elodie said.
Melody shot her sister a pointed look. “You are being rude to Anthony. He must be tired after his long journey.”
“Thank you for your concern, but the journey was rather uneventful,” Lord Belview said. “However, I could use a drink.”
Wesley seized the opportunity to lighten the mood. “I could use a drink, as well.”
“There is a drink cart in the drawing room,” Melody offered. “I would show you there, but Elodie and I need to start dressing for dinner.”
“No, I am running away to start a new life with woodland creatures,” Elodie huffed.
Melody grinned, clearly used to her sister’s dramatics. “Yes, but if you run away, there won’t be any biscuits for you to eat.”
Elodie paused, considering her sister’s words. After a moment, she sighed dramatically. “I suppose I could stay for a little while longer.”
After the ladies disappeared into the manor, Wesley lifted his brow at Lord Belview. “Should I even ask what is happening between you and Lady Elodie?”
Lord Belview held up his hands defensively. “Absolutely nothing, I assure you. But Elodie seems to find my mere presence to be insulting.”
“Well, if it is any consolation, Lady Melody feels the same way about me,” Wesley confessed with a wry smile.
“At least I am in good company, then,” Lord Belview quipped. “Let us get that drink, shall we?”
As they strolled down the corridor, Wesley glanced at his friend and asked, “How is your brother?”
Lord Belview sighed heavily, his frustration evident. “Stephen is still as useless as ever. I honestly don’t know if he will ever grow up.”
“Give him time,” Wesley suggested, hoping to offer encouragement.
“That is all I have given him, and he never fails to disappoint,” Lord Belview shared with a pained expression. “I do worry he will drive my father into an early grave if he doesn’t change his ways.”
Entering the drawing room, Wesley made his way to the drink cart. He picked up a crystal decanter and poured two generous glasses of brandy. “Your father is a good man,” he said, handing one of the glasses to Lord Belview.
“He is,” Lord Belview agreed, taking a sip. “And he doesn’t deserve the heartache Stephen is causing him.”
“I truly hope things improve,” Wesley offered sincerely.
“You and me both, my friend,” Lord Belview replied.
A tall, brown-haired woman entered the room but halted abruptly when she saw them. “Pardon me,” she murmured, turning to leave.
Before she could exit, Lord Dallington strode into the room, his face lighting up with delight. “Sarah, you came,” he exclaimed, his arms outstretched in welcome.
Sarah smoothed her hands nervously over her simple blue gown. “I do not know why you insisted I come. I hardly have anything suitable to wear.”
“Nonsense, you look perfect,” Lord Dallington reassured her. He then turned to the other men in the room. “Gentlemen, let me introduce you to my sister, Lady Sarah.”
Wesley bowed respectfully. “A pleasure, my lady,” he greeted.
“It is an honor to meet you,” Lord Belview said.
Sarah dropped into a curtsy, her eyes flickering towards the door as if searching for an escape.
Lord Dallington walked over to the drink cart and poured himself a drink. “The ladies should be down shortly.”
Sensing Sarah’s discomfort, Wesley tried to put her at ease. “How are you finding Brockhall Manor, Lady Sarah?”
“It is slightly overwhelming,” Sarah responded, her tone reserved, making it clear she wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
Lord Dallington picked up his glass. “You will have to excuse my sister. She tends to avoid these types of social gatherings.”
“It is true,” Sarah admitted.
The dinner bell rang, echoing through the manor and summoning everyone to the drawing room.
Lady Dallington glided into the room, and her eyes lit up when she saw Lord Belview. “Anthony,” she said warmly. “I am so pleased that you decided to come.”
Lord Belview bowed slightly. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“You are always welcome in our home, you know that,” Lady Dallington declared with a smile. “I trust Elodie has been behaving herself?”
A smile came to Lord Belview’s lips. “She behaved exactly as I anticipated.”
Lady Dallington’s smile faltered slightly, concern creasing her brow. “Oh, dear. That does not sound very promising.”
“I assure you, Lady Elodie is a delight,” Lord Belview responded.
“I think you are being far too generous in your assessment of my daughter, but thank you nonetheless,” Lady Dallington said.
As the other guests filtered into the room, Wesley’s attention remained fixed on the doorway. He was waiting for Melody, driven by a sense of duty more than anything else—or so he told himself.
What felt like an eternity passed, though it was likely only moments before Melody finally appeared. She entered the drawing room, dressed in a deep, rich green gown accentuating her graceful figure. Her hair was arranged into an elegant chignon, and she looked nothing short of beautiful.
Lord Belview leaned closer to Wesley and whispered, “You are staring.”
Wesley quickly averted his gaze and turned to his friend. “I was just lost in thought for a moment.”
“Did those thoughts involve the lovely Lady Melody?” Lord Belview teased.
Wesley’s grip tightened around his glass, his voice firm. “No. Lady Melody and I are merely acquaintances.”
“Acquaintances that go on rides together,” Lord Belview remarked with a knowing look.
“I would not read anything into that,” Wesley insisted.
Lord Belview smirked. “Very well. I shall take you at your word.”
“Thank you,” Wesley said, hoping that would end the conversation.
But Lord Belview wasn’t quite finished. He added in a low voice, “You could do much worse than Lady Melody. And I suspect she won’t have trouble securing a suitor this Season.”
“That is the least of my concerns,” Wesley said, feigning indifference. But he did care, and that is what irked him the most.