So it was that she touched Mr. Rausch’s shoulder. She saw a muscle tick in Trevor’s jaw, so she made her intentions very clear.
“Mr. Rausch, would you mind stepping aside? I find I need to have a word with my fiancé. Gentlemen, my apologies. I fear I’m otherwise engaged for this set.”
Fortunately, Mr. Rausch was protective, not stupid. Seeing that she would not be deterred, he slid aside but not before catching her eye.
“If you ever have need of anything, pray do not hesitate to call on me. Day or night, whatever—”
“She has no need of you, Rausch,” cut in Trevor.
Mellie just sighed. What was it about men that they had to push themselves to ridiculous displays to prove they were men? Affairs at dawn, protective statements. Really, she already missed the rational discussion of chemicals. Well, part of her did. The other part worried that something serious had happened in the card room.
So she stepped around Mr. Rausch and took Trevor’s hand. “Let us take a walk in the garden, shall we?”
She made her words especially loud as a way to draw his attention away from staring hard at Mr. Rausch. It worked. Trevor blinked and flashed her a grateful look. It was a small tick of his lips upward and a general lowering of his shoulders, but she had studied his gestures closely. He was grateful for her understanding, and so she set her hand on his arm and maneuvered toward the French doors that led into the tiny back garden.
“What has happened—” she began, but he squeezed her fingers.
“Not yet. Let’s get outside, and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Of course,” she answered, but it was easier said than done. After all, they were the couple of the hour. Everyone wanted to speak with them, and more than a few had watched his dramatic confrontation with Mr. Rausch.
Still, she managed to do it, mostly because Trevor was a master at responding politely before pushing them forward. It took forever, but eventually they crossed to the cooler air outside. She was able to take a deep breath and lift her face to the night sky. She’d never realized how much she relished the simple space to breathe even the fetid London air.
“Finally, Mellie,” said a too familiar voice at her side. “I’ve been waiting an age.”
No, no, no, no, no! Ronnie couldn’t be here. Not in London at her first ball. And yet, the voice was unmistakable. As was Trevor’s response.
“Mr. Ronald Smithson, what an unpleasant surprise.”
“You, sirrah, have no right to speak to me!” Ronnie answered, his tone surly.
Mellie finally located her cousin standing at the edge of the brick porch as it led out to the garden. There were a few others here as well, but her cousin took the whole of her attention. As well as the brunt of her temper. “Ronnie, you’re the one without any rights. You werenoton the guest list. I could have you tossed out—”
“Mellie, please. I came to you with an urgent matter.”
“Every matter is urgent in your mind, and do you know what? Not a one of them is.”
“Your father is sick.”
She swallowed, a queasy feeling twisting in her gut. But this was Ronnie, and she’d been fooled by his dramatic statements before. “How sick?”
“Desperately.”
She waved that aside. “Is he sleeping?”
“Barely a wink. Paces the house all night long. Doesn’t eat. Coughs like the very devil. And all because he’s sick with worry over you.”
“Oh thank God.”
Her relieved pronouncement brought Ronnie up short. It even seemed to surprise Trevor. She felt his forearm twitch beneath her hand, so she squeezed him slightly to reassure him. And then she launched into her own dramatic statements.
“I’ve been trying to kill my pater for years. If I’d known all it took was an impetuous trip to London, I would have done it years ago.”
Ronnie blinked at her, then his expression darkened. “Good God, London has driven you insane! Just like your mother—”
“One more word, Ronnie, and I will stab you with my hairpin. And not in your chest where it won’t do any good. I’ll go for your ability to father children.”
To which Trevor dropped her arm. “I’ll hold him still for you, love.”