Miss Merton's Last Hope Read online

  Walter wrapped both arms about her and held her against him, suspecting what she would say next if she could bring herself to that point. He’d seen a corpse or two, his parents’ faces in death were still with him, but he’d been older when they had died and had been able to distract himself with the arrangements for their burials and in comforting Imogen. But a child of Melanie’s age then might not have been able to push it from her mind so easily.

  At last she said, “I fell asleep there in her arms and she died holding me.”

  Walter closed his eyes briefly, heart breaking for her. Valentine had never spoken of the servant’s death. Did he even realize what had happened to Melanie that night? “That must have been a shock when you woke.”

  She shuddered and jerked back out of reach. Her lashes were wet with tears and she looked about to fall to pieces. It took a long time before she spoke again and her words were raw, hard with pain. “I couldn’t get free of her grip, she held me so tightly.”

  And so now she lets no one close at all. She can’t bear to let anyone comfort her.

  He brushed a tear from her cheek carefully. Her soft skin was hot and he struggled against the urge to pull her back into his arms. He’d found the reason for her withdrawal and at last he understood what had begun the change. “I am so sorry.”

  “I thought at first she was playing a game and begged her to let me go before anyone found me and, and…when fought free, I turned. I did not recognize her.” Melanie sobbed the last words and she began to shake again. “Her eyes were open and…I was so terrified that I fled to the nursery without telling anyone she had passed away. I didn’t want to get in trouble. I didn’t know everyone expected her to die.”

  “You did nothing wrong,” he assured her.

  Fresh sobs shook her and he inched closer. “She loved you very much. I remember that. I can understand that you didn’t want her to be alone when she was ill.”

  “I wasn’t allowed to love her, but I did.” She sniffed. “She was the only one who dared to risk my parents’ ire. If a servant was too familiar with us, they were dismissed without a reference. They couldn’t be bothered with me except when they had guests to present me to.”

  “‘They’ being your parents?” Walter was fast learning to detest them. He stroked the backs of his fingers down her hot cheek once more. “There is no harm in loving the people who look after us. Those brave souls who live with us every day, expecting no more gratitude than the coin they are paid. For good or ill, they shape our lives in ways our parents could not ever imagine sometimes.”

  He moved his hand to rest lightly on her shoulder. “You were only a child and what you saw of Andy’s death must have been horrifying to you. Her last moments on earth were spent with you. She would have died happy.”

  “Perhaps.” She wiped at her eyes. “But I cannot forget.”

  “Then don’t try to.”

  Her face lifted to his and the expression there broke his heart. “If only I had been good and done as my parents had told me, if I had remembered my station, then I would never have to remember her like that. I did not mourn her,” she whispered. “I huddled in my room and hated her for not sending me away.”

  Walter took a risk and bent his head to rest against hers. What she had witnessed, what she had suffered in silence, guilt and horror and mourning all confused about in a child’s mind, had changed this woman from the happy girl she’d been once. She had loved deeply and mourned still. It was no wonder even friends were rebuffed. Melanie simply couldn’t bear to let anyone that close again.

  He sighed at the pain she’d hidden behind excessive propriety. “Then honor her memory but don’t let her passing torment you. She was a wonderful woman and you were always a good girl, always her favorite.”

  He did not say she was good now because, to be brutally truthful, Melanie often spoke harshly of other women when they failed to meet her high standards. Was that too a result of her grief? Her terror of letting anyone close again? Hiding how lonely she must be behind a strict adherence to rules and propriety?

  Her head twisted a little against his, brushing her soft hair against his skin. “I am not that girl anymore. I don’t feel as other women do and I’m not sure I even know how to be any different than I am.”

  “At least you know you have faults,” Walter murmured. “Most people live oblivious to their mistakes.”

  “And I have made so many.” Melanie sobbed again but beneath the whimpers, the sound of the front door shutting reached him. He drew back, assuming her brother had returned.

  “There is no reason you cannot overcome this,” he promised her. “When you turned away from Imogen, she thought it was her doing. She loved you so very much once. You could have her friendship back if you just try. We all liked Andy a great deal. If you explain, talk about how tortured your feelings were by her passing, Imogen would understand. Andy was a kind woman and she spoiled you as if you were her own daughter.”

  “She was the only one who ever loved me.”

  “Everyone loved you,” he insisted. “You should tell your brother what happened with Andy. He needs to understand why you spurn your suitors and don’t like to be touched. He could help you overcome your fear.”

  “Perhaps one day, but I don’t think now is the time. He’s likely to be more concerned with smoothing over this latest curfuffle with Mr. Radley than digging up the past when it no longer matters to anyone but me.”

  “Oh, Melanie. Radley can go to hell before I’d ever place his happiness above yours.”

  Valentine’s voice jerked Melanie away from Walter and her gaze darted to the door where Valentine stood, tears slipping down his cheeks. “There’s nothing more important than you.”

  Walter glanced away to pretend he’d not seen his friend’s raw emotions.

  “I did not know you had come back.”

  Melanie’s usually firm voice trembled and Walter wanted nothing more than to reach for her hand again but couldn’t. However, he was glad Valentine had eavesdropped. It was important that he know what drove his sister to the extreme desire to be proper every moment of her day. She was not the heartless tease Linus claimed. She was not cold, nor unfeeling. She was in many ways still that little girl and clearly still grieving for the mother she never really had.

  “That was intentional, and I am glad I waited to hear it all before interrupting what on first glance seemed an entirely different situation.” Valentine sent a pointed glance his way and stepped toward his sister. He tilted her face to his, his touch gentle and slow, and wiped away another of her tears. “You should have told me long ago about Andy. We could have talked about it and maybe things could have been easier for you.”

  Melanie said nothing to that and he appreciated that Val didn’t push her to agree with him. It was time for Melanie to stop pretending everything was all right.

  He glanced at the doorway to find Julia standing there frozen, just out of Melanie’s line of sight. Her face was contorted with upset. She slipped her hand over her mouth and edged away silently. Walter applauded her decision because he didn’t believe Melanie would appreciate the fuss. Not everyone was lucky enough to have the warm and loving childhood they’d experienced.

  He glanced back at Valentine in time to see him raise his arms to embrace Melanie then think better of it. He patted her shoulder instead. “I was coming to tell you that Julia and I could not find her brother and we’ve decided not to bother. He was rude to you in a way that is unforgivable. I held back out of concern for Julia’s feelings for him, but as it happens, she rather wished she’d had a chance to thump him as our Walter here did on your behalf.”

  Walter laughed and earned a disapproving frown from Melanie. It had been a rash act on his part but entirely satisfying. He flexed his fingers, noticing a slight ache in them.

  “I don’t need to be cossetted, Valentine, nor to have my spurned suitors beaten up by interfering neighbors.” Melanie straightened her spine, once again trying to ap
pear unaffected. Walter saw through the act. “This thing with Mr. Radley will blow over in time and as to Andy, it was a long time ago.”

  “But not for me. We have a great deal to talk about. You were not the only one who loved Andy. I missed her too. She was the only one we had when we were young. We should have talked about her instead of pretending we didn’t miss her.”

  Melanie nodded slowly, though she didn’t seem altogether pleased. “If you wish.”

  Walter took that as his cue to make himself scarce. “I’ll be on my way.”

  Valentine faced him. “I would appreciate your discretion.”

  “You don’t even have to ask.” He nodded to Melanie. “Good day, Miss Merton.”

  “Good day, Mr. George.”

  Valentine showed him to the door with a steady pressure to his back. It was hard to ignore the feeling he was being forcibly removed from the house. He supposed he deserved it, since he had been sticking his nose into Merton family secrets. He collected his hat, gloves and damp towel.

  “Do you wish to speak to me about your interest in my sister?” Valentine asked once they were out of earshot and the front door stood open.

  Walter turned. “I don’t have any interest in her.”

  “Then remember the sisters rule still applies to mine and keep a distance,” Valentine warned. “I don’t wish her reputation ruined and the pair of you miserable.”

  The door shut in his face slowly and Walter stood there a moment in shock.

  Good God, had the world gone mad? He wasn’t interested in Melanie Merton in that way. She’d tolerated his questions today because her guard had been lowered by other events, but things would return to normal. Tomorrow she would ignore his existence. There was nothing of which he was more certain.

  Four

  Melanie slept beyond her usual rising hour the next day. She felt drained of all feeling but strangely better about her life. She hadn’t dreamed; not one nightmare about Andy to wake her in a cold sweat while others slept peacefully.

  She had told her brother everything that she remembered about the day their governess had died. The coldness of Andy’s skin, the scent and stillness of her quarters, her anguish over the loss of the servant who had mothered her every day of her life.

  Her heart had grown lighter as they’d spoken and when she glanced across her room to the marks on the old wood-framed door, notations of how tall she’d grown each summer, the longing for Andy had faded to regret.

  Like so many small comforts, the marking of her height each summer had stopped with Andy’s death.

  Mother and Father had immediately replaced Andy with a stern spinster who’d never shown her any affection. Melanie had been forced to smile even with her broken heart, and soon enough she’d learned not to react to the pain of Andy’s loss.

  But she had never forgotten the love she’d had wrenched away so suddenly.

  After Andy’s death, her parents had insisted her toys be packed away and, at Mother’s insistence, Melanie had concentrated on learning how to run a home from then till now. She’d been thirteen when she’d played hostess at her first dinner party for the chancellor of Oxford in the place of her absent mother. She’d been so anxious about the seating arrangements she’d made herself ill.

  Valentine had wept over what she’d endured in Andy’s room and made her promise not to tease him about it later.

  She would never tease him. Not when he held her future in his hands. He alone had the final say on when and if she had to return to their parents’ cold home. When she was there, her nightmares, memories of Andy’s passing, were strongest and worst.

  She uncurled herself from her bed and began to dress, knowing the maid would most likely be with Julia at this hour. When she was presentable, she stepped out into the hall in search of her breakfast.

  She paused at the top of the stairs when she heard Julia groan. Since Julia had married her brother, Melanie had discovered sounds of that nature could occur for any number of reasons. She just hoped Julia wasn’t stuck half in, half out of a window again.

  After determining the sound had indeed come from her brother’s bedchamber, a room the newlywed pair now shared, she reconsidered investigating. At this time of day, her brother should already be out at his shop, but it never hurt to be cautious. The pair often enjoyed a leisurely affectionate farewell most mornings, or a test of strength that involved a great deal of huffing and puffing. She’d peeked into their bedchamber once to her own peril, to find Julia pinning her brother down, and then she’d kissed him so passionately that Melanie had been embarrassed and fled silently all the way outside the house. After that, she’d done her best to give them every chance for privacy.

  However, given the doorway was open wide, Melanie considered it safe enough to take a chance. She tapped on the wall as she moved along the hall, just loud enough to give warning of her approach.

  “Come in, Melanie dearest, and good morning,” Julia sang out.

  She took a few steps in and glanced around, relieved not to find her brother lurking about the bed. That bed was covered in Julia’s gowns and several had been tossed aside very carelessly. Julia herself was sitting at her dressing table twisting her head this way and that to see herself in the mirror, but her hair…

  Melanie moved toward her new sister. “What have you done to yourself?”

  “I wanted to try something new.” Julia had at last tamed every strand of her bright-red hair, forcing it back into the tightest of styles that could be managed. “Do you like it?”

  The style was very similar to the way Melanie wore her own straight hair but it didn’t suit Julia one bit. It was too severe and, with her fair complexion, she appeared so much older than her actual years. It was simply awful. She could not be seen like this.

  Julia had always been sensitive about her appearance though, even more so since the scandal, so she chose her words carefully. “What made you change styles?”

  Julia glanced up quickly and caught her hand in a quick squeeze. “I was thinking of the bargain we made with your parents. They expect me to be as ladylike as you, an asset to the family, and I thought I should make an effort.”

  The gown she wore was very plain and if memory served, was a gown rarely worn. It was a dowdy gown and all wrong for the vivacious Julia. Melanie had to stop this before the girl had no pride in herself left.

  Melanie smiled softly. “Ladylike behavior is what they expect, but how you style your hair and clothes are a completely personal matter, in my opinion. The way you’ve always worn your hair and dressed suits you better. Might I change you back?”

  Julia’s gaze dropped, but she eventually nodded. “That is very kind of you.”

  No doubt Julia was disappointed that her decisions had been unsupported, but in the long-term it would be for the best.

  Melanie made short work of releasing Julia’s hair from confinement then spent some time brushing the snarls created by her earlier treatment. Her sister-in-law had hair as independent as its owner, and the curls soon bounced back into place with a bit of effort. Then she twisted and pinned Julia’s hair into a loose chignon, noticing the immediate improvement to her beauty.

  When she was satisfied with her work, she lightly pressed her hands on Julia’s shoulders. “There. Back to your usual pretty self, the way my brother loves you best. Are you headed for the shop today?”

  “No.” A tinge of color swept over Julia’s cheeks at the mention of Valentine and his obvious affection, so Melanie rang the bell and then made a fuss of straightening her dresser into order again until the moment passed. “Mr. Faraday is expected to visit so Valentine suggested I could stay at home and allow them to talk freely.”

  “Stand up and let me help you out of that rag then.” She ran her gaze over the bed and picked out a pretty gown accented in pink ribbon and delicate lace. She would look very fine in that for morning calls.

  Their maid appeared and Melanie stepped aside so Julia could be changed. When Julia wa
s free of the plain gown, Melanie requested it and rolled it into a ball. “Never wear this again. I cannot bear it.”

  “Yes, Melanie.”

  The maid suppressed a relieved smile and took the gown away when Melanie handed it over. When they were alone again, she caught Julia’s chin gently. “Beautiful. You have such a lovely figure and you should always wear the clothes that accentuate your beauty rather than hide it.”

  Julia’s fingers crept into hers and squeezed. “I am very glad to have you as a sister, Melanie.”

  “I am glad too. No one could love my brother more.” Melanie moved back a bit and found the pocket watch that Valentine had given Julia on their engagement. She pinned it to her waist and slipped it into the hidden pocket they’d fashioned for the purpose of holding it securely. “I was on my way downstairs.”

  Enthusiastic as always, Julia snatched up a light shawl. “What were you going to do today?”

  She had little to do, in truth. Julia’s presence denied her many responsibilities and she was finding it hard to fill the hours of her days. “After breakfast, I was going to read today’s paper if Valentine did not take it with him. And, if there are no callers, I will resume my embroidery.”

  Melanie hoped no one came today.

  Julia slumped against the bedpost. “Embroidery again? Please, please don’t suggest I join you in that.”

  Melanie chuckled softly. Sitting still for the morning was not Julia’s favorite activity. And when she did turn her attention to her embroidery, Julia often ended up stabbing her needle into her finger more times than into the piece she’d been assaulting. The complaints were endless. “I would never suggest it. Perhaps we could convince Valentine to take you for a stroll along the shore when he comes back.”

  “We have not decided on Lady Watson’s birthday gift as yet. Last year she was a miss and now she’s a baroness. I have no idea what to give her this year. Her party is the day after tomorrow.”

  “Yes, I remember.” That was a party she wasn’t invited to, not that she didn’t understand why Imogen would exclude her. She didn’t deserve an invitation, not after the way she’d behaved. Walter might have suggested making up for past mistakes would be easy, but in her experience, it was terribly hard. She didn’t know how to even start with Imogen.