Chapter 22 #2
Not to mention, it was largely his fault if their relationship had grown strained.
He’d left town first, without letting her know how he felt about her or even when he meant to return.
For all she’d known, he’d chosen to end their friendship before it became something more.
By the time he’d had the good sense to write Lady Heathbrooke, inviting her and Melody to visit his estate, they’d been gone.
During the months since, his moods had fluctuated in ways that had caused his mother to steer clear of him as much as possible. He’d not been himself. Rather, he’d found himself in a constant state of worry.
Had he lost his chance with Miss Roberts forever, or was there still hope?
The fragile smile on her lips made it hard to tell if she was pleased to see him or not.
“Marsdale,” she said. “What an unexpected surprise.”
Months ago, he’d given her leave to address him as Edward when they were in private. How much time had swept between that moment and now? It felt like an eternity. Perhaps she’d forgotten?
Her voice was slightly breathless though just as lovely as he recalled.
Indeed, she herself was an absolute vision, despite the water that dripped from her bonnet and onto her clothes.
The weather had worsened within the last few minutes, transforming the light drizzle from earlier into steady rain.
It dampened her entire face. Drops even clung to her lashes.
A fierce desire to pull her into his arms and protect her from the chill air overcame him. He swallowed and forced a steady breath into his lungs. “I wasn’t aware you’d returned.”
“We only just arrived a couple of hours ago or so.” She sent a quick glance over her shoulder. “I had a letter to post. That’s why I’m here. On this street, I mean.” She cleared her throat. “I’m on my way home now.”
“I’ll escort you then, if it’s all right with you. Seeing as I’m on my way to Croft House.”
“Oh. You are?” Something like concern flickered within her brown eyes.
Despite the sinking feeling that she preferred to avoid ending up in the same location as he, Edward did what he could to hide his disappointment. “Might I presume you planned to stop there yourself?”
“Yes.” She looked at the street they’d both been heading toward. “I’ve missed Samantha tremendously and was hoping to see her as soon as possible. Provided she’s home.”
“I’m afraid she’s not.”
His tone clearly raised her awareness. Her attention snapped back to him. “What’s happened?”
He offered his arm. “Come with me and I’ll tell you what I know.”
There was nothing hesitant about her now. Concerned for her friend, she grabbed his arm and fell into step beside him. Edward allowed himself a second to savor the moment — the reality of her being here and of having her by his side — before he began.
By the time they reached Portman Square, he’d provided her with the details pertaining to the murder at Moorland House as well as what little he knew about Samantha’s abduction. Miss Roberts listened without interrupting. Even after he’d finished talking, she kept quiet for a few seconds.
When she finally spoke, there was an edge to her voice — a sharpness he’d never heard there before. “I…need to process this. Given what you’ve just told me, it’s best if you go to Croft House alone. Mr. Croft has no need for me at the moment, but I’m sure he could use your friendship.”
Edward wasn’t ready to part ways with her just yet, and besides… “He might appreciate seeing a friend of his wife’s showing concern.”
“Of course. I just…” She shook her head. “He and I aren’t close in the way you are. I’d feel like I was intruding.”
“Melody…”
She pulled her arm away from his. “I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
Another faint smile and then she was turning away. Not thinking, he caught her hand and pulled her toward him. Her lips parted and all he could think of was pressing his mouth to hers. Of kissing her as he’d dreamt of doing for what now felt like forever.
Yes, they were in the middle of a London street. The scandal if anyone saw them would be undeniable. And for the first time in his life, Edward didn’t care. He’d forever worried over the opinion of others, of making mistakes, of not having the woman he cared for reciprocate his affection.
The fear had paralyzed him. And as a result, he’d lost his chance with Evie. He’d lost it again with Melody when he’d failed to act before her departure for Italy. He’d be damned if he was going to lose his chance yet again.
So he pulled her closer still, allowed her every chance to turn from him and walk away. When she didn’t, he dipped his head and did what he should have done months ago. He pressed his lips to hers.
* * *
Melody wasn’t sure what she was doing. Or rather, she wasn’t sure what she was doing was wise.
In fact, it was possibly the most reckless thing she’d done since she’d allowed Alessandro to lead her into a dark secluded corner of a garden at one of the balls she’d attended in Naples.
His kisses had been impassioned. They’d filled her with the kind of need that both terrified her and left her wanting.
This, however, was something else entirely.
It was slow and sensual, the culmination of several months’ worth of longing. She’d thought she’d gotten over him but she was wrong. This proved it. Edward had stripped her bare with this kiss — he’d asked for a silent confession and she could do nothing but tell him the truth.
Yes. This is what I want. This is what I need. You.
He was her entire world in that moment, her only focus for what could have lasted anywhere from a split second to several minutes. She’d no idea, but she knew when he gently released her, when she saw the fire in his gaze, that these last moments changed everything between them.
“I need to go.” She had to think. Her situation, his rank, the people coming toward them now from the opposite end of the street. Heart racing, she stepped back. How could she have allowed this to happen? A relationship between them would never work.
“Melody?” Concern dimmed the heat from before.
Her mouth had gone dry and her brain felt numb as she backed away even farther. “I won’t be your mistress.”
It was all she could think to say before she spun on her heels and hurried from him as fast as she could. Through the rain and back to the safety awaiting her at Number 2 Portman Square.
She heard him call her name, but then she was at the door and escaping into the house where she worked.
Her trembling fingers found the ribbon that held her wet bonnet in place.
She untied it while she climbed the stairs, grateful to make it all the way into her room without anyone noting she had returned.
Best of all, she managed to close the door and lock it before she burst into tears.