He blinked. She had spoken the words so calmly that her meaning was nearly lost. But he had understood, and he reared back with appropriate shock. “You are doing it much too brown, Eleanor. I have known her almost as long as I’ve known you, and she was unsettled last night. I was merely…helping.” God, he hoped his words sounded better to Eleanor than they did to his own ears.
Apparently not, because her words were delivered as if he were the blackest roué in the city. “You are charming, Trevor. And because of that, you think you can blind everyone to your faults, and everything will work out in the end. For you, that is mostly true. But someone always pays the piper, and it is usually the woman. And Melinda is more vulnerable than most.”
“We just had a short conversation,” he lied. It wasn’t for his own protection, but for Mellie’s. He could not have Eleanor thinking the worse of his fiancée. And certainly not because of something that was entirely his fault.
Her stare was heavy indeed, but he did not flinch. The secret to holding a lie was total adherence to it. And in the end, she dipped her chin in acknowledgment. “Good. I think better of you then.”
He exhaled, though the guilt seemed ten times worse now. “Thank you—”
“But you are still leaving.”
Damned harridan. “Be reasonable, Eleanor. She needs all of us, myself included.”
It was at that moment that they were interrupted. The door didn’t open. Naturally not. This was an efficient household, but as Eleanor had said: the walls were thin. He heard women coming down the stairs. Three to be exact, if he judged the voices correctly. The duchess’s voice, another woman’s, and then the soft, subtle murmur of Mellie. His entire body went tight, stretching for another sound.
A moment later, Seelye knocked quietly on the door before entering. “The carriage awaits your convenience, my lady.”
Eleanor pushed back from the table. Trevor had already abandoned his runny eggs to rush out to the main hallway. Mellie would be there, and he suddenly had a desperate need to see her. He didn’t question why. He simply acted.
As he suspected, she was coming down the staircase. The duchess was in animated discussion with the other woman, whom he now identified as Lady Redhill, the other owner of A Lady’s Favor dress shop. And trailing behind—though clearly listening closely—was his Mellie. Her skin was pale, her eyes a little wide, but it was unmistakably her. Just as he saw how absolutely beautiful she looked with her hair pinned artlessly back and her brows narrowed in thought. Then she spoke, and his body adjusted to her tone. Like an instrument tuned to her note, he shifted his position to greet her the moment she stepped upon the main floor.
“But crickets aren’t only green. They have lots of different colors.”
He smiled, seeing his entry into the conversation. “Are we determined then to dress you as the Cricket Princess?”
Her eyes locked on his, and he was pleased to see the strain ease around the edges. She said something of which he only heard half. Something about telling the others that she could wear colors beyond just green. He might have had an opinion if he hadn’t been so mesmerized by the way several locks of her hair tumbled out of her pins to bounce onto her shoulders. And when she stepped into the sunlight, the contrast between the auburn strands and her pearly white skin was delightful.
“I shall commission a necklace for you,” he said. “One of a cricket with a crown.”
“Don’t you dare!” she cried. “Not unless you wear a matching one with buggy eyes.”
“Nonsense. On a man, it would need to be a signet ring.”
“I will not wear such a necklace,” she declared.
“Then I will appear decidedly strange with my new ring.” He held out his hand, and she descended the last step with her fingers in his. She felt warm. Much more alive than yesterday when she was more statue than person, but still a far cry from the woman he had brought to completion last night. And yet when he took her fingers to his lips in greeting, he knew the flash of fire in her cheeks—and in his groin.
Damn the thoughts she inspired in him.
And as he kissed her fingers, he saw her pink blush heat to bright red.
He stood there, kissing her hand and watching the shifting colors of her skin. A minute. Maybe more. It didn’t matter. He was fascinated, and his memories were rapidly mixing with fantasies.
It was the duchess who brought him out of his reverie. She chuckled and turned to her friend. “Does your husband greet you in such a way, Helaine?”
“If he did, I doubt I’d ever leave the house.”
“Or the bed.”
The two women laughed, and it took him a moment to realize their meaning. Oh damn. Oh thrice damned. His thoughts were obvious, weren’t they? And even if his weren’t, Mellie’s certainly were.
He straightened and proceeded to greet the other two women with as much charm as he was able. When he was done, he was all but assaulted by Eleanor’s steady regard. It was a moment’s stare. Or perhaps a minute’s. But in that time, he knew what he had to do. As an honorable gentleman he had no choice. If he remained behind, he would have Mellie debauched within a week. With an inward curse, he turned to Seelye.
“Would you call a hack for me? It’s time I returned to my rooms.”
He felt the surprise hit Mellie. They weren’t even touching, but the air around her seemed to jerk. Then she spoke, her voice high and tight. “You’re leaving?”
He nodded and tried to put an apology into his words. “Generally, affianced couples do not reside in the same home. It’s not proper.”