Chapter 22
The carriage that brought Melody and Lady Heathbrooke back to London slowed as it entered the city.
The familiar sight of Vauxhall Garden as they drove past on their way to Westminster Bridge no longer beckoned to Melody as it once had.
The lack of vibrancy, accentuated in daylight, made it pale when compared with palace gardens she’d strolled through in Naples.
The Italian seaside town had taken a little over a month to reach.
Since they’d departed for it in late September, they’d managed to make the journey before winter made travel difficult.
Melody had enjoyed their lovely retreat but Lady Heathbrooke had grown increasingly restless since Christmas and claimed she’d no wish to miss the start of the new London Season.
Despite Melody’s concerns about heading north before spring arrived, her employer had been determined to leave at the beginning of February.
Thankfully, they’d made their return without incident, though Melody wasn’t sure she was glad to be back. She breathed a sigh of relief as the carriage rolled onward
Dressed in a velvet gown Lady Heathbrooke had ordered for her, she stared out the window and found herself deflated by the dull weather and uninspiring streets. Even when it rained, Italy was somehow brighter by contrast. The atmosphere had been livelier. Less oppressive.
It was strange to think back on how much she’d missed England when she’d left.
France had been horrendous. She’d hated every second of her journey through that country where mass executions had taken place only twenty-five years before.
There was a good chance many of the people they had encountered had played some part in the atrocities.
Which was simply more than Melody could stomach.
But then they’d reached Naples and it was as though a happier sun illuminated the world.
Color was everywhere, bursting across the dazzling blue of the Mediterranean Sea and splashing onto hillsides in lush shades of green.
Brightly painted houses tucked against the hillside above the harbor matched the spirit of the people who lived there.
The city was a place unlike any other. An oasis where it was impossible not to be happy.
By comparison, London seemed like a bucket of dirty dishwater.
For although it had been winter, rainy days had been few and far between in Naples, the temperatures as mild as a late summer day in England.
Melody had spent hours strolling through the narrow streets together with Bianca, the maid Lady Heathbrooke’s friend, Contessa Louisa, insisted she take along on every excursion.
Lazy days had been spent on the terrace where bougainvillea continued to bloom in a wide array of pinks and purples. She’d read an assortment of books while Lady Heathbrooke napped. But she’d also attended a number of soirees and balls. During one, she’d met Alessandro Marino.
Her flirtation with him had been so very different from what she’d experienced with Edward.
Unlike Edward with his British reserve, Alessandro made no attempt to hide his interest. He’d been so blunt about it, her cheeks had burned on several occasions.
But he’d made her feel beautiful and desired.
He’d made her forget. And he’d shown her what it meant to let go and simply exist in the moment.
She’d carry the memory of their impassioned encounters with her forever.
“Any regrets?” Lady Heathbrooke murmured.
Melody blinked and turned from the window to face her employer. “About coming home?”
The dowager marchioness smiled. “You could have remained behind.”
“I know.”
Alessandro had asked for her hand. Perhaps she’d been a fool to refuse.
Lady Heathbrooke and her friend both thought so.
After all, it was very unlikely that Melody would ever receive such an offer again.
In Italy, no one had wondered about her parentage.
Here in England, however, the information was easy to come by.
It was the very reason why Edward Pryce, the Earl of Marsdale, would never consider marrying her.
She’d come to accept this during her absence. Lady Heathbrooke had been right to whisk her away for a while. It had done her good. Allowed her to cast aside all lingering dreams of a future with Marsdale.
“I returned because staying away without having said a proper goodbye would make me feel as though I’d failed to tie up loose ends.
Not with Marsdale,” she added when Lady Heathbrooke raised a brow, “but with my friends and with Harlowe. I needed to come back and see them in person. Once that’s done, I may ask Alessandro if he will still have me. ”
There were also personal effects she wanted to collect — things she’d not thought to take along since she’d known she’d return here.
Lady Heathbrooke smiled. “You have changed your mind then.”
“I’ve had a long journey in which to reflect on my choices.”
The carriage turned onto Westminster Bridge. “Do you love Marino?”
“I enjoy his company and know that he will be good to me. We can be happy together, of that I am certain.” And wasn’t that more important than anything else?
There had been a time, only six months ago, when she’d thought she was falling in love with Marsdale. And perhaps she had been, but what was the point in directing such forceful emotion toward a man with whom there could be no future? To pine after him indefinitely would only result in misery.
Best then to walk away, put him behind her, and move on.
The carriage drove onto Upper Seymour Street, rattling over cobblestones and swaying slightly while turning a corner. Tiny raindrops clung to the window, blurring the view of the buildings they passed. Melody watched a row of white townhouses slide by as they entered Portman Square.
A little farther and they finally came to a stop in front of Number 2. Melody blew out a breath and relaxed. They’d arrived.
She waited while a footmen helped Lady Heathbrooke alight.
Her butler, alerted to their arrival, had also come to greet her.
The pair proceeded toward the front door while Melody climbed from the carriage.
Once on the pavement, she sent a look toward Number 5, her thoughts on Samantha.
It would be lovely to see her again and to actually talk to her for a change.
The few letters they had exchanged these past months had provided them with a link to each other, but it wasn’t the same.
Melody hadn’t even told her about Alessandro since this was the sort of thing she preferred to share in person.
Soon.
First, she had to unpack. Then she had to write to Harlowe and tell him of her return. Once this was done, she’d call on Samantha.
She climbed the stairs to Heathbrooke House and greeted the servants she met in the foyer. When Lady Heathbrooke told her she planned on taking a nap and that Melody wouldn’t be needed until it was time for supper, she went to find her own room.
It was precisely as she’d left it, though perhaps a bit stuffy. She crossed to one of the windows and pushed it open, allowing the rainy March air to spill inside. A couple of footmen brought her traveling trunk, which they left at the foot of her bed.
One hour later, after freshening up and changing her clothes, Melody had both unpacked and written her missive to Harlowe, which she decided to send express. She’d also enjoyed a light snack of two sandwiches: ham and cheese plus butter and cucumber.
With her letter placed in her pelisse pocket to protect it from the light rain, Melody set off. Her bonnet would stop her hair from getting wet while her kidskin gloves and the shawl tied around her shoulders would help keep her warm.
The post office wasn’t far. She’d go there first, finish her business, then visit Croft House before returning home.
In her estimation, it took no more than twenty minutes before she was heading back toward Portman Square. She strode along Henrietta Street and was almost at the next turn when she spotted the one person she would have liked to avoid a while longer.
Marsdale.
* * *
Edward had gone to see Adrian yesterday, as soon as he’d learned of Samantha’s abduction.
He’d been at White’s when Eldridge arrived to deliver the news.
The duke himself had learned of it when he’d gone to check on the Moorlands.
According to Eldridge, the family remained stricken.
It would likely be a while before they were seen in public again.
A few hasty words had extricated Edward from the conversation. He’d hastened to Adrian’s home, only to have Elks inform him that Adrian slept.
Edward had asked the butler to mention his visit. He’d also left a message, asking Adrian to let him know when they could meet. He wanted to help, to lend whatever support he might offer, and he wanted to be apprised of any developments.
Aware that Adrian would be busy hunting the villain who’d taken his wife, Edward hadn’t expected to hear from him right away. But when most of the day went by without word, he decided to call on him once more.
Ordinarily, he’d have taken his carriage. Especially in this miserable weather. But with his nerves and muscles an agitated mess, he’d elected to walk in the hope of expelling the tension.
Which was how he happened upon the one person he’d not expected to see.
Miss Melody Roberts.
His stomach instantly tightened. Awareness rippled through him. He noted her wide-eyed look of surprise, the hasty sideways glance that followed, as though she sought an escape.
None existed, and besides, they’d both spotted each other. To avoid the inevitable encounter would only make matters worse. More awkward.