Dreaming of You (22 page)

Melody smiled understandingly.  “I have only one brother, and although he is much younger than I, we have always had a special bond, though our interests were often quite different.  While I held tea parties for my dolls, Adam was obsessed with becoming a pirate and sailing the seas like Blackbeard.”  
 

“That is the ambition of all young boys is it not, to take to the sea, pillaging and plundering in the quest for notoriety and riches?”    
 

“I suppose it is,” Melody agreed.  “And of course there is always the added lure of battle, the thrill of sword fighting and the like.”  She paused and took a sip of tea, wondering how long she could possibly keep the conversation centered on pirates without Natalie thinking that she was dreadfully peculiar.  “I remember my father once carved a wooden sword for Adam and for weeks he played with nothing else.  He even slept with it under his pillow.”
 

Natalie smiled, but didn’t offer any stories of her own as she picked up one of the iced petits fours from the silver tray lying on the table before them.
 

Melody gave it one last try.  “He begged our father for a real one of course, but our mother wouldn’t allow it for fear that he would accidently injure himself in one of his mock battles.”
 

Natalie popped the small confectionery into her mouth and nodded.  “She was right to be concerned,” she said a moment later.  “Poor Gavin still bears the scar from when he and Richard snuck two of Papa’s swords into the woods and staged a make believe battle of their own.”
 

Melody’s mouth went dry.  Had her plan actually succeeded?  It seemed too good to be true.  “Oh dear, was he…badly injured?”  
 

“As luck would have it no, though based on Mother’s reaction you would have thought he’d been slit from ear to ear.  It was only a small cut though.”  Natalie laughed, shaking her head.  “Despite Mama’s anger, I believe he was quite proud of it at the time.”
 

He’d said he and a friend.  Had it actually been his brother?  She focused on keeping her voice even.  “And he still bears the scar?”
 

“Yes, right here,” Natalie said, pressing her fingers to a spot along the underside of her jaw.  “It’s nearly invisible unless you look closely.  Mercifully the blade just missed his face.”
 

Melody wasn’t exactly sure how she’d made it through the remainder of their tea, but now, as she escorted Natalie to the door and bid her farewell, she knew that she would be hard pressed to recall a single thing that had been said between them during the past thirty minutes.
 

“Mr. Burke,” she said to the ever-accommodating butler, “could you please inform Miss Tibbs and the children that I have a headache and will be resting in my room for a while.”
 

“Of course, My Lady.  Shall I have Mrs. Beechum prepare you a headache powder?”
 

“No, that won’t be necessary.  It is mild, and I am fairly certain that it will soon pass.”
 

Mr. Burke nodded.  “As you wish, My Lady.  In the meantime I will see that you are not disturbed.”
 

“Thank you, Mr. Burke.”
 

As she climbed the stairs to her second floor bedchamber, Melody no longer had any doubt that Gavin Montrose was the man Charles had abducted nearly five years ago.  As implausible as it seemed she had discovered his identity, and within a fortnight of her arrival in London.  
 

Closeting herself in her chamber, Melody moved to the upholstered chaise that occupied the far corner of the room and sat down heavily upon the cushioned seat.  Sliding backward, she drew her legs up onto the chaise, and then bending forward she wrapped her arms around her lower limbs, resting her forehead against her knees.  It was then that she finally allowed her tears to fall.  She had no idea how much time passed as she sat there, once again replaying each and every memory of their days at the cottage, the glorious afternoons she’d spent with
him
, with Gavin, the man who’d stolen heart, the man who held it still.
 

When at last she raised her head and wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks, Melody felt as if every last drop of moisture had been wrung from her body.  “Oh, My Love,” she whispered to the empty room.  “What am I to do now?”
 

A few short blocks away, Gavin looked up from the accounts he’d been studying for the past half hour as the door to his study swung open and his sister swept unannounced into the room.
 

“Are you busy?”
 

“Would it matter?” he asked with a slight frown, already setting the account sheets aside.
 

Natalie chose to ignore his not so subtle rebuke as she purposefully settled herself into one of the two leather chairs that sat before his desk.  “I hope you haven’t made plans for the night of the Markham’s masquerade, for poor Alfred’s return has unfortunately been delayed.”
 

Poor Alfred indeed
, Gavin thought to himself.  His brother-in-law was probably enjoying every minute of his blessed freedom from London’s never-ending social whirl.  “And now you expect me to accompany you?”
 

“You haven’t any prior commitments have you?”  For a moment Natalie almost looked concerned, but only for a moment.
 

“And if I did?”
 

“Do you?” Natalie challenged.
 

He hadn’t planned on attending the Markham’s affair, for he’d had more than his fill of the
ton’s
rather tiresome social gatherings of late, but apparently his plans were about to change.  He regarded his sister, his expression deliberately ambiguous, for several long moments before he finally gave in and told her what she wanted to hear.  “Fine, I’ll go.  But I am
not
wearing a costume.”
 

Natalie grinned, clapping her hands together in excitement.   
 

As they entered the Markham’s grand foyer and then made their way slowly to the ballroom, Melody glanced about from behind the beautifully embroidered crimson and gold mask that disguised the upper portion of her face.  She doubted that her identity would remain a secret however, since she had arrived with Penny and Henry, both of whom were costumed, but unmasked.  
 

The crowd was immense, numbering well into the hundreds, and with every direction she turned her gaze encountered men and women dressed as famous monarchs, armored knights, Greek gods and goddesses, court jesters, scantily clad milkmaids and a wide variety of other characters.  At Penny’s suggestion, she was garbed as the legendary Queen
Guinevere,
while her cousin and her husband were costumed as the infamous Antony and Cleopatra.
 

Though the silver tray in the foyer at Cavendish House had been flooded with invitations and calling cards since her arrival in London, this would be her first outing since her attendance at the opera.  Unwilling to risk an encounter with the duke, she’d pled a minor indisposition to excuse herself from Society’s midst as she’d struggled night and day with what to do with the knowledge she now possessed.  Though terrified of what his reaction might be, she knew that she had to tell him the truth.  Now it was simply a matter of when and how she would enlighten him as to her identity, and in turn divulge the truth of her late husband’s treachery, as well as her own unwilling part in it.  She could only hope that he wouldn’t despise her for it, for she didn’t think she could bear it if he did, for she loved him still and knew that she always would.
 

“It appears that I made a very fortuitous choice when selecting my costume,” said a male voice from over her shoulder.
 

Spinning around, Melody’s attention was diverted as her gaze landed upon a medieval knight garbed in an elaborate suit of armor, complete with a jeweled scabbard and sword strapped to his side.  The visor of his silver helm was raised, revealing the gentleman’s smiling countenance.
 

“Why, Mr. Darby, how splendid you look,” Melody said, returning his smile as she admired his costume.
 

“Mr. Darby?”  He eyed her curiously.  “Queen Guinevere, do you not recognize me?  It is I, Sir Lancelot.”
 

“But of course, how silly of me.”  She murmured apologetically, playing along with the charming gentlemen she’d met at the Middleton’s ball.  “Do forgive me, Sir Lancelot, for a moment I fear that I had you confused with someone else.”  
 

“Indeed, you are forgiven, My Lady.”  His jovial smile returned immediately.  “However, if it were not for this rather bulky attire, I would most certainly have requested a dance in recompense for my bruised ego.”  
 

She couldn’t help but grin.  “Perhaps another time then, when you are less…
bulky
.”
 

“I shall hold you to it, dearest Guinevere.”  With a deep bow, he turned and moved off into the crowd.
 

“Another admirer?” Penny asked, coming up beside her.
 

“Admirer?”  Melody shook her head slightly.  “Goodness no.  Mr. Darby was merely noting the correlation of our costumes.”
 

Penny’s expression was skeptical.  “My dear, when are you going to accept the fact that you are a beautiful young woman and extremely desirable to members of the opposite gender?”
 

Melody felt her cheeks grow warm, for she was woefully unaccustomed to male admiration and she still found it somewhat difficult to believe that anyone would consider her an object of desire.  However, she wasn’t entirely naive.  She was well aware that the money Charles had left her might prove enticing to the unsavory fortune hunters she’d been advised to look out for.
 

Penny drew closer, looping her arm through Melody’s.  “It simply cannot have escaped your notice that Mr. Darby, as well as nearly every other eligible gentlemen of our acquaintance has displayed a marked interest in you.”
 

“Oh Penny, you are exaggerating.”
 

“Did you not tell me yourself that Cavendish House has been overrun with flower arrangements in every shade and hue since the Middleton’s affair?”
 

“Yes, but-”
 

“But nothing.  Face the facts, my dear.  You are an unparalled success and you are simply going to have to accept it.”  Penny grinned and squeezed her arm.  “And if I were you, I would be enjoying every single minute of it.”
 

Unfortunately, what her cousin didn’t know was that Melody had no desire to garner the affections of any man, that is, any man other than the one who was more likely to despise her than naught, once he learned the truth about her.   
 

“Honestly Gavin, I did not think you were serious when you said you wouldn’t wear a costume,” Natalie bemoaned once again, casting her eyes around the assemblage of brilliantly dressed characters.
 

“I am wearing this deuced mask you forced upon me Nattie,” he said, unmoved by his sister’s pique.  “You should be thankful that I didn’t toss it out the coach window along the way.”  The simple black velvet domino, tied with a narrow satin ribbon around his head, was as much as he’d been willing to allow when his sister had attempted to coerce him into donning a costume.
 

“But you would have made such a dashing buccaneer.”
 

As it was, he was dressed entirely in black, with the exception of his pristine white shirt, which gave the only touch of color to his otherwise dark ensemble.  Natalie however, had gone all out, garbing herself in an opulent burgundy-colored gown, of which the wide skirt had occupied nearly the entire width of the coach, an intricately folded lace ruff that framed her entire face, and a matching jeweled headpiece, in her portrayal of Mary, Queen of Scots.
 

Ignoring his sister’s last comment, Gavin scanned the crowd, though it was nearly impossible to recognize anyone as the majority of those present were masked.
 

“Oh, there is my dear friend Lady Cecelia,” Natalie said brightly, motioning to her left.  “At least… I think it is Lady Cecelia.”  
 

“Perhaps you should take a closer look,” Gavin said as Natalie was about to signal to the lady in question, “just to be sure.  And in the meantime, I shall see to procuring us something to drink.”
 

 “Yes, alright,” she nodded, and then quickly moved off in the direction of the woman in the long, hooded cloak.
 

Navigating the throng in search of refreshment, Gavin was hailed time and again by friends and acquaintances, as his simple mask unfortunately did little to disguise his identity.  
 

“Be thankful that you are still unwed, Rutherford,” the Earl of Hastings was saying to him at present, his expression dour.  “When I informed my wife that I wouldn’t be the Romeo to her Juliette, she burst into tears and locked herself in her bedchamber for an entire day.”
 

“Which is why you are now clad in satin knee britches and tights?” Gavin chuckled.
 

“Precisely.”
 

“You have my sympathies, Hastings.”
 

“Thank you, but I imagine you will be joining the ranks soon enough yourself.”
 

“If my mother and sister had their way I would already be long-wed, with my wife expecting our second child by now.”    
 

“It is inevitable, my friend,” he said, patting Gavin’s shoulder good-naturedly.  “So prepare yourself, and by all means, be sure to enjoy every blessed moment of your freedom while it lasts.”