Twenty-one
Use every tool in your arsenal, fair or fowl.
She didn’t see him at all that day. That was in part her choice. She declared herself ill, refused to go downstairs for afternoon callers, and barely made an appearance at that evening’s ball. She kept hoping that Trevor would storm down her door and demand to see her. Or he would simply appear with a minister and a special license. Anything dramatic that would prove he wanted her as much as she wanted him. She needed that declaration because he hadn’t made one last night. And she was afraid that she had thrown everything away on a ridiculous ploy to win him back.
She was a fool. A damned fool.
So it was that on the next day, she dressed herself in her best gown for an afternoon garden party. This was a green silk stitched with silver filigree meant to reflect the sunlight. It was her favorite gown, and she wore it as if the design weren’t supposed to suggest veins. Veins in a cricket. She’d tried to explain to the duchess that crickets did not have veins as in a human, but the lady would have none of it. So she wore it and prayed everyone thought it an interesting design and not a scientific mistake.
Eleanor tried to talk to her as she stepped into the carriage. Mellie could easily believe that the woman had guessed the reason for her illness yesterday. She might have heard Mellie return early in the morning. She’d definitely seen Mellie’s red-rimmed eyes. Fortunately, the woman didn’t judge her. And in an uncharacteristic show of warmth, she had even patted Mellie’s hand in the carriage.
“Are you sure you are feeling well enough for this?”
What she was really asking was, do you feel well enough to face society? The answer was obvious.
“Absolutely.”
Eleanor gave an approving nod. “And you are in fine looks. Never fear, we shall find you a husband soon. A few more gentlemen have made inquiries into your financials. Radley told me he heard it from…” Eleanor chatted on, but Mellie stopped listening. She had no interest in any man except Trevor—only to scratch his eyes out.
Good Lord, didn’t he know she could be pregnant? Didn’t he realize…
While Eleanor prattled on about potential husbands, Mellie’s mind circled with the same thoughts that had been spinning there for the last thirty-six hours: on all the ways Trevor had failed her. In truth, it wasn’t a lot. It was simply that he didn’t love her when she loved him. He had allowed her to stumble headlong in love with him while he remained damnably aloof.
By the time they arrived at the party, Mellie had worked herself into a fine temper.
As was typical these days, a group of her scientific friends greeted her immediately. She made her schedule known—or Eleanor did—and so those who wished to find her could. These gentlemen were among her possible husbands, and she found them pleasant but not especially stimulating.
She heard about one’s newest anatomical drawing of a toad, another’s unfortunate experiment with fireworks. She reassured him his eyebrows would grow back better than ever. And then there was the last man to bow over her hand: Mr. Rausch. He greeted her as warmly as ever, but there was a tightness about his face that was new.
He began talking, giving her some effusive compliment about how she’d styled her hair, which was especially annoying because she’d barely styled it all. The bulk of her hair was braided to the base of her skull before being allowed to fall free. So she held up her hand, stopping him mid-word.
“Pray, forgive me for interrupting, but what has you looking so pinched?”
She watched his eyes focus intently upon her face, and he abruptly frowned. “Pinched? I am never pinched.”
She laughed and did as bold a move as an unwed girl could do in society. She stretched up on her toes and pressed her gloved thumb against the lines between his brows, smoothing away the tightness there.
“I meant pinched in terms of anxious. Not that your funds are lacking. I believe we are all aware of your wealth.”
He frowned all the darker, but she did not flinch. They were the same in their wealth. Newly minted as rich, they were not casual about their coin even as they relished every stitch of gold filigree in their attire. It declared to the world that they had something of worth.
So when he frowned, she merely shrugged. She could tease him about his coin, and he would tolerate it, or she would cut him. Such was her mood this day.
In the end, he was the one who relented. He took her gloved hand and pressed a kiss to it, holding her fingers overlong. “You make me laugh, Melinda.”
“I have not given you leave to use my Christian name, Mr. Rausch.”
“I know, but I am going to take a liberty before this afternoon is over, and I thought to ease the surprise with boldness.”
“You are ever bold, sir,” she retorted, but there was no rancor in her words. In truth, she liked a man who knew what he wanted and grabbed it no matter the consequences. “I intend to follow your example today,” she said blithely. She was done with this prancing about for a husband. She would select one today and be done with it.
His brows shot up and a gleam entered his eye. It was his greedy look, and she was well used to it by now. “Miss Smithson, would you care to explain that last comment?”
“I do not believe so, Mr. Rausch.”
“Then perhaps we should walk in the garden so I may pester you until you reveal your secrets.”
She looked at him then. She thought of Trevor and her fury at him. And she thought of all the other gentlemen of her acquaintance. Mr. Rausch was the one who most intrigued her. Her heart might long for Trevor, but at least Mr. Rausch stimulated her mind. That was something when Trevor gave her nothing.