She had danced a great deal tonight. Her feet should hurt. Her feet did hurt.
The sheets were cold.
Trevor.
Trevor.
Trevor.
* * *
The morning was not better, which was why she rolled over and went back to sleep.
The afternoon was not better, but she had to face it as Eleanor was standing in her bedroom and waving a cup of hot chocolate at her.
She didn’t want chocolate, but she thought it would be rude to refuse. Then she did want the chocolate because if she couldn’t have Trevor, she could have chocolate.
And then Eleanor began to speak. An endless stream of words and plans and possibilities, none of which fully entered her mind, but some of it helped drown out his name. So she encouraged Eleanor to keep talking, to keep planning, and eventually, she began to focus.
The afternoon callers would be here soon. She had to dress and be charming. Eleanor suggested she not say much. After all, she was supposed to be a heartbroken former fiancée, though the official break would happen at the ball that evening. Their hostess was a friend of Eleanor’s and beyond thrilled to provide the location for the dramatic scene-to-be.
Mellie agreed that she could manage a stoic look of dignified misery.
It all went off exactly as Eleanor planned. The steady stream of afternoon callers talked around her, often patting her hand in sympathy. The gentlemen were especially gentle as they kissed her hand once upon arrival and again on departure.
It was as if she were Eleanor’s doll. She ate when Eleanor said, she dressed as Eleanor bid, and she even memorized a cluster of phrases to say. It was the easiest thing in the world to bring them out at random, speaking only when someone expected an answer. She had no idea if she made sense or not, but every time she caught Eleanor’s eye, the woman was smiling encouragingly at her. And several times, she even whispered, “You’re doing splendidly. Hold out just a little bit longer.”
So she did. She held out. She dressed in her most sedate ball gown: dark blue velvet with gold trim. It settled on her shoulders like a shroud and cut off what little breath she had. Except, she still managed to move to the carriage and smile blankly at the milling crowd. She accepted dance requests with a smile then mutely held out her dance card.
And then he was here. She felt every cell in her body jolt painfully awake. He had just been announced, and her gaze found his figure before her ears registered why she’d turned to the ballroom entrance. He looked regal, she thought. His hat had casually crushed his hair, but the curls about his eyes were as charming as ever. His shoulders were pulled back, and his movements were slow. In truth, she’d never seen him with so little animation. But rather than making him appear wooden, it made him seem refined. Arrogant.
Ducal.
This, she thought, was the man who would become a duke, and truthfully, she didn’t like him at all. There was no life in him. Not compared to the man who had kissed her so deeply. Not when she thought of how he’d looked as he stroked her or teased her or…anything.
And then he saw her.
She watched as he swallowed and nodded. A slow dip of his chin, which could have been for anyone, but she knew it was aimed at her. And then a slight curve to the right side of his mouth as he headed in her direction. It was a quick movement—that lift of his lips—but he might as well as written it on a sign above his head.Let’s get this over with.She didn’t need Eleanor’s quick rasp in her ear to know what to do.
“Do it fast. That’s the easiest way.”
The crowd parted. The chatter died away. Or perhaps she simply couldn’t hear over the noise in her head. It didn’t matter. He was standing in front of her and bowing before she found the strength to draw breath.
“Lady Eleanor, Miss Smithson. Good evening.”
Beside her, Eleanor was elegant perfection. She arched a sculpted brow, lifted her chin, and then turned her back on Trevor. It was all done in a single fluid move, and her words carried easily through the quiet ballroom.
“What a strange noise I’ve just heard,” she said to the nearest person. “I think it’s the sound of cruelty.”
Trevor winced at that, but his gaze didn’t waver. He’d been focused on her from the moment he’d entered the ballroom.
And now it was her turn. A simple shift of her body, a pivot on her toes, a twist of her head. Anything.Move!She stood frozen in place.
Trevor’s eyes widened, and he seemed to lean slightly forward. Toward her. She should back away, but she didn’t. From the side, Eleanor touched her elbow, tugging slightly.
“Melinda, I’m feeling parched. Would you join me in a stroll?”
She was supposed to nod. She was supposed to go with Eleanor, but she couldn’t force herself.