“And what of a chaperone?” her uncle demanded.
“My maid will do fine,” she said, hoping it was true.
Finally, her father released a long sigh. He deflated even more in his seat, but when he looked at her, his eyes were clear and strong. “You may take the carriage, my dear. But if you ask me to bless this marriage…” He shook his head. “I cannot.”
“What? But Papa—”
“No, my dear.” He stood then, his movements bizarrely normal. He had his normal strength, his usual crispness in speech. “Go if you must, but I do not approve.”
Then he turned and headed for his laboratory.
Six
Reward him for being solicitous. Once you have his attention, do everything to keep it.
Trevor sat in the most well-appointed carriage he’d ever had the pleasure of traveling inside. The springs were new, the cushions plush, and there were even decorative lamps in case one wished to read after dark. It was the height of modern luxury, and yet he’d never felt more uncomfortable in his life.
He sat alone on his seat. Across from him was Mellie and a sour-faced prune of a maid who obviously took her position as chaperone much too seriously. Every time he tried to touch his fiancée—even the accidental brush of knees—she glared at him as if he’d just tried to lift Mellie’s skirts. Even conversation was stilted as the woman glowered at all discourse, clearly blaming him for her sudden removal to London.
Well, to hell with it. Mellie was his fiancée, and more important, she was clearly suffering. He would talk to her and do what he could to ease the pain of her father’s defection.
But how to start? How to broach the subject when the lady didn’t wish to converse? She sat as still as stone, her gaze vague, and her hands clenched tightly together in her lap. He’d already tried the normal conversation starters. He’d discussed the weather and the length of the drive. Noted various interesting sights, which frankly were nothing more than, “Oh, there’s another handsome cow.” In the end, he decided on direct speech. It had always worked best with her anyway.
“Mellie, you no doubt feel rather unsettled. I know this is sudden—”
“I have made my choice, Mr. Anaedsley, and am well content.”
Her words were spoken in clipped, almost acerbic tones, but he could see the anxiety in her tightened fingers. “I’m sure you are,” he said trying to be soothing, “but that cannot have been an easy conversation with your father.”
For the first time in over an hour, her gaze cut to his and held. It was too dark to see any glisten of tears, but he knew that she’d been on the verge of crying ever since her father had walked out on her. How could she not? It had been just the two of them since she was a child. In many respects, her father was her whole world.
“He will adjust in time,” she said softly. “It is all for the best.”
“Yes, it is, but…” He leaned forward onto his knees. He didn’t dare take her hand because of the damned maid, but at least he could reach toward her without actually connecting. “Mellie, in twenty-four hours you have become engaged and now left your home.” He didn’t mention the viper’s nest called London society. She’d learn the horrors of that soon enough. “Please, ask me questions about what is to come. Or rail at me. Hit me even, if you like. Do something to ease the pain.”
Her lips tightened, but her words came out calm. “Will that help? Will it force my father to forgive me or make the insults to come easier to bear?”
So she did have an idea of what would happen in London. “I have found that women who discuss things find everything easier to bear. Or so they have claimed.”
He could not shake the memory of how white her skin had gone when her father refused his blessing. Or that she became stone while her uncle cut at her some more until Trevor put a stop to it. No more tragic a figure had ever appeared on stage than Mellie standing still while her only family voiced their disgust and walked away.
Meanwhile, she shook her head, keeping her lips resolutely shut.
“You are thinking,” he guessed, “that to speak of such things aloud will surely cause your heart to break in two. That the pain will cripple you, and you will curl up into a ball and sob until you cannot move again. Do I have the right of it?”
Again her gaze locked on his, holding it without wavering. And then she opened her mouth, but not a word came out. She tried twice. He saw her draw breath, but not a sound broke through.
So he reached across and took her hands despite her maid’s angry cough. He could not entwine his fingers with hers because Mellie’s were curled into tight fists, but he could wrap his two hands around hers where they strained in her lap.
“You are not alone, you know. I am here, and I have many friends in London. They will stand by you as well. It is only that it is so sudden that you feel turned around.”
Her mouth was working again, but this time she managed to whisper one question, barely heard, though there was little noise from the carriage. “What if they’re right?”
He frowned. “Who is right? About what?”
She blinked her eyes, clearly fighting the tears. So he squeezed her hands and tried to silently reassure her. In the end, it must have worked because she took a deep breath and spoke, her words louder if not yet steady.
“This has happened so fast. I am never impulsive, and yet here I am. It has only been a day.”