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A.N. It's not exactly great in terms of plot line and such, but it's fairly amusing, I think. Not very practical, either, and the characters didn't comeout exactly liked they were supposed to, but I was just having so much fun typing along, that I couldn't bear to think reasonably about anything.
Ruination
Danielle Night
Melanie Bradford sat on the stone bench outside her sister’s garden shed. Only it wasn’t her sister’s garden shed – not anymore, in any case. Now it was simply ‘the garden shed’, not ‘Anna’s garden shed’. For Anna had been married the week before at her new husband’s family’s country estate, and would probably never even spend the night in the Athmore London house ever again, much less fiddle around with the garden. And why should she want to? The Bradford green thumb – make that the Morey green thumb – now had not only an expansive country garden to oversee, but also two greenhouses and a massive, flowering front drive – not to mention a grand household and a husband.
It really was a sad thing, Melanie thought, when the younger daughter got happily married off on her first season, and the older sister, who everyone expected to make an absolutely fabulous match, was blundering head first towards spinsterhood and a very permanent, very dusty spot on the shelf.
Not that Melanie begrudged Anna any of her happiness. She loved her sister dearly and couldn’t have wished her any better. Still, she had always imagined that they would go through life together. Even after Anna’s engagement, Melanie had thought she would remain in London. Who would have thought that Adrian, Anna’s husband, preferred the life of the country gentleman?
And it wasn’t as if Melanie was so far gone as to be completely without prospects. A few – Melanie didn’t care to think how very few – others had gone unwed far beyond their third Season, and still ended up married in the end. Happily married, even. It was just that…
Melanie sighed and brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. “If only he would just ask,” she muttered.
‘He,’ of course, was the bane of Melanie’s existence, the thorn in her side, and the love of her life. James Fulton, her would-be fiancé. Mr. James Fulton of the sardonic white smile and ever-ruffled chestnut hair. Mr. James Norbert Fulton of the endearingly guileless and aggravatingly leisure nature.
And leisure is putting it mildly. Really, you’d think he planned to wait until we’re both in our dotage to pop the question.
Melanie released a rather unladylike snort. She could just picture them, both grey and bent. Him, wincing as he slowly and jerkily lowered himself on one knee to propose; her, smiling a thin-lipped grin because she was too old and frail to strangle him.
Well, he can just go and hang himself! Melanie declared forcefully – albeit silently. Bradford women do not wait around for men. He should know that from Anna and Adrian’s courtship. For Heaven’s sake, she sent him flowers
Melanie briefly considered taking a page from her sister’s book and sending James a posy, preferably with a meaning somewhere along the lines of ‘What the devil is taking you so long?’ But then she disregarded the idea, as she doubted any flower had a meaning as potent as she would like.
No, flowers were not for her. She needed something else. Something drastic. Something that would make James do something
But what?
There was the obvious answer, of course. The one that any jaded lady of the ton would suggest if she asked. Make him jealous. But Melanie couldn’t do that. It was too vindictive to suit her. Oh, she wouldn’t mind upsetting James a little for making her wait so long, but she couldn’t drag a third party into the whole mess. No, it would have to be something else.
The garden was quiet without Anna’s slightly off-tune humming and Jack – an orphan Anna had taken under her wing – running about. The silence made Melanie feel extremely lonely, and she stood with a sigh. Calling for her maid, she picked up her gloves, and exited the garden, heading for a nearby park.
Perhaps she would be able to think of a solution there.
“Something amiss, sir?”
“No, no.” James waved him off. “Just thinking aloud.”
Averill nodded. “Very good, sir,” he said emotionlessly before withdrawing.
Sighing, James ran a hand over his face. In the room beyond, he could hear Averill and his valet, Ellis, packing his personal belongings into crates to be brought to his new townhouse. The townhouse he now had to convince a certain Melanie Bradford to run – as Melanie Fulton.
Well, perhaps not convince, per say, so much as…coax. Preferably by some rather grand romantic gesture as his friends, Melvin Knighton and Adrian Morey, had done with their brides. Something to sweep her off her feet and cement her love for him, as well as make up for all the time he had spent ‘beating about the bush and a few trees to boot’ as Melvin had put it.
God, he hoped she wasn’t too upset over the long wait. He’d tried to ask Anna about it last week at the wedding, but she’d only smiled sympathetically and patted his hand, saying that she was sure Melanie would see a year or two didn’t matter in the long run. A year or two! It hadn’t really been that long, had it? James frowned as he realized it had, and that it was already Melanie’s third Season. Bloody hell! He hadn’t meant to take so long. He’d known almost the moment he’d met her that it was Melanie he wanted for his bride. But at twenty-eight, he’d thought himself too young to be wed that first Season she’d been out, and the next year, his sister, Hilary, had made her debut and had needed to be escorted everywhere, and it had occurred to him that Trevalyn House had quite enough women as it was.
Thus he had waited until his uncle had agreed to him getting a town house of his own, where Melanie could be mistress and not have to deal with his mother, sisters, aunt and cousin. It had seemed like a good plan at the time, but now he wasn’t too sure. Melanie was patient and understanding enough, but perhaps he should put a little extra effort into this proposal?
He sighed and scuffed his boot against the carpet as Averill walked through the room with a valise in each hand, Ellis following behind him with a similar load. James knew he should go ahead to his new home, but he was loathe to leave the comfortable familiarity of Trevalyn House. When his attendants had exited, a small, pale face peered around the doorjamb at him and glanced around the room furtively before darting inside. James smiled at his youngest sister, but didn’t bother to stand or even straighten from his slouch.
“What have you done now, Thia?” he asked without censure as she closed the door behind her.
Xanthia Fulton lifted her head proudly and declared, “I think you’re an absolutely awful brother for being able to think any ill of me at all.”
“Indeed. A better brother than I would not know his baby sister well enough to know how prone she is to damage her sisters’ belongings.”
Xanthia indignantly drew herself up to her fully unimpressive height. “I am not –”
“What happened to my slippers?” someone shrieked down the hall, and Xanthia paled even more than was natural.
James chuckled, pushing himself to his feet. He kissed his sister on top of her head, promising, “I’ll take care of it. Just stay out of Yolanda’s closet from now on.”
Xanthia beamed up at him, swearing by their grandmother’s grave that she’d never go anywhere near Yolanda’s footwear again and he truly was a very, very good brother; James thought that it was just as well both his grandmothers were alive and well. After promising Yolanda a new pair of slippers and a bag of bonbons, James arranged to go riding with his cousin the next day, instructed Rosalind not to deplete the family fortune with her shopping, reminded Hilary that he’d escort her to the Gardyner musicale later that evening, kissed both his mother and his aunt on the cheek, shook hands with his uncle and was off.
There really were too many women in the Fulton household, he decided. Melanie would understand. She was very rational, after all – for a woman.
The answer to her dilemma concerning James and matrimony had come to her. The only fly in the ointment was that it went against every aspect of Melanie’s breeding. This scandalous solution had occurred to her whilst conversing to Urban Normanson, Duke of Albinson, a rake of the highest order and a rather charming bounder. He had suggested – in most discreet words that only hinted and never assumed – more in jest than in seriousness, a private rendezvous at the Gardyner musicale that night while everyone else was occupied with maintaining their pained smiles. Melanie had been thinking how this was a rather unfair assumption, as it was the Gardyners’ twins first Season, and no one had ever heard either of them play, when she had been struck by the brilliance of her companion’s proposal.
“Of course!” she had said rather enthusiastically.
Urban had blinked at her in bafflement, suddenly wary, “My lady? Are you… agreeing to, uh, meet with me in private during the musicale?”
Melanie had laughed, unable to contain her excitement. “Not with you. If I may be blunt, sir, I think you are an exceptionally handsome specimen of the male species, which is doubtless why there are so many rumours regarding your powers of seduction.” The duke’s jaw had dropped half way to the ground, but Melanie had ignored him and forged ahead. “If I were a woman of loose virtue and not already emotionally involved with another man, I would have absolutely no qualms with meeting you for a tryst at tonight’s musicale. However, since I hold my virtue in rather high esteem and find myself deeply in love with another man, I cannot bring myself to meet with you tonight, and offer you my deepest regrets for the fact.”
For a moment, Urban had stared at her at her as if she had just grown a tail. Then he had swallowed and eked out in an awed voice, “I think it is I who must regret the loss.”
Melanie had left the park feeling supremely confident in her plan, but now the doubts were beginning to cloud her mind. What if it didn’t work? What if it all went terribly wrong? What if James got angry with her for manipulating in such a way and hated her for the rest of their lives on earth?
Even as the fear crossed her mind, another part of her retorted, It serves him right for making me wait so bloody long! Really, I had to go about and suffer the attention of all those suitors and waste their time for two whole Seasons, when he was the only one I wanted.
Well, this time around, she was going to take matters into her own hands. Why should women wait around for men, in any case? She knew what she wanted and she was bloody well going to go after it, etiquette and breeding be damned. And if it didn’t work, she’d just get herself committed to Bedlam. Heaven knew she probably would go mad if James continued to be so damned stubborn for much longer.
Mind set, Melanie took herself up to her room to begin preparing for the evening entertainment.
She was normally a very calm, reserved lady, but James, it seemed, had brought out a predator in her. And everyone knew that what a predator wanted, a predator got.
“Oh, just look at that Backus woman’s gown! Utterly indecent! It’s no surprise her husband can’t stand to be seen anywhere with her. And there’s Hadyn’s gel. Such a pity she isn’t married yet – don’t understand it at all. Do you –”
James heaved a sigh as he ushered the women to a row of empty seats. Women and their gossip. He loved his mother and aunt dearly, but sometimes they could be very petty, indeed. His eyes scanned the crowd for his soon-to-be bethrothed, but Melanie was nowhere in the room, which was strange since she had told him just the day before that she would be attending. Perhaps she was simply late.
The Gardyner twins were a petite, well-mannered pair. They were not particularly remarkable, being neither great beauties nor utterly repulsive and having rather complying dispositions that shielded them from speculation and praise alike. They were not blindingly brilliant or painstakingly simple, could carry on an intelligent conversation and add up figures at a card game. Even their dowries were quite unexceptional, not extravagant or parsimonious. All in all, they would make ideal wives for the sort of men who wanted nothing more than a broodmare, hostess, steward and perhaps some politely pleasant conversation over the dinner table.
Since James had no interest in such a wife, he leaned back in his chair and listened absently as the music began.
A tap on his shoulder made him turn around in his seat. A footman silently handed him a slip of paper with a nod before drawing away. Curious, James unfolded the note.
James,
Meet me in the library.
Melanie.
James smiled, then frowned. The library? Was there something wrong? It wasn’t like Melanie to arrange private meetings in other people’s homes. He excused himself to Hilary and left the room. He’d never been to the Gardyners’ townhouse before, so it took him a moment to find the library. The interior of the room was dimly lit by a stand of candles that stood on the mantel. Still, there was so little light that James didn’t immediately see Melanie seated primly on a chaise at the edge of the shadows.
He smiled at her as he closed the door behind him. God, but she was beautiful. The faint light painted her hair shades bronze and pinky red, and the soft shadow beneath her lower lip made it look even fuller than it already was. With her soft pink gown and her hands clasped in her lap, she looked like an earth-bound angel.
“Why, my lady Melanie,” he murmured. “Whatever are you doing here?”
Her smile flashed in the candlelight, drawing him closer. “Me? Why I’ve been looking for a book to read. And what, pray tell, brings you here, sir?”
“A most ambiguous note from a lady of my acquaintance,” he replied, reaching the place where she sat.
“She sounds like a most intriguing character.”
“Indeed, I’m never sure what to expect of her.” Taking her hand, he placed a lingering kiss on her palm.
Melanie smiled in response, though inside she was frowning. He never knew what to expect of her? What nonsense! She hadn’t done one unpredictable thing since the day she was born. But then he looked at her with that puppy dog smile, and she sighed. She never had been able to stay mad at him, no matter how much drivel he spewed out, the darling man.
She patted the seat beside her. “Come and sit with me while you wait, sir.”
He did so without qualm, and Melanie licked her lips nervously. Was she really going to do this? Well, of course she was. She was fed up with waiting; men never had to wait, why should women? She was going to take matters into her own hands, and if James didn’t like it, he had only himself to blame.
Inwardly steeling herself, Melanie reached out and dragged James’ mouth to hers. Her breath left her as it always did when they kissed, and it was a struggle to keep her objective when he started to kiss her back, caressing her tongue with his own and eliciting shudders of excitement. They’d kissed before – in sheltered alcoves and shaded gardens, where prying eyes couldn’t see them – but never had they done what Melanie intended for them to do tonight.
Slowly, she leaned back, her hands still placed at the back of his neck. He pulled away slightly, looking down at her worriedly.
“Are you feeling faint, darling?”
Melanie wanted to roll her eyes. Really! He’d bent her over his arm dozens of times while they were kissing, and she had never asked if he was feeling faint.
“I’m perfectly well, James,” she assured him and leaned up for another kiss. A tickling shiver rolled through her when he gently stroked the base of her spine, and she crowded away from the touch, which only brought her pressed up against James’ chest. And such a delightfully warm, solid chest it was. No false padding for her James. Some might think it a bit slight, but Melanie was of the opinion that it was quite perfect.
Her hands clenched in his hair, as his fingers continued to tease that sensitive part of her back. Oh, but she could do this all night.
Well, you had better not! some part of her mind reminded her. You’ve only two hours to complete this seduction.
Seduction. Yes, of course. She still had to do that, didn’t she? Perhaps another night? He was doing such a delightful job of turning her into a puddle at the moment; it would surely be a shame to ruin it all.
Tonight! It must be tonight or you’ll just dither again and it’ll never get done.
That was true. Melanie sighed as James moved to nibble at her ear. She really should do this tonight. When they were married, she could enjoy James’ kisses at leisure all she wanted.
James wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but suddenly he found himself lying on his back on the chaise, with Melanie sprawled on top of him, looking a bit out of breath. Rising on his elbows, he frowned.
“Mellie? Is something the matter?”
“The matter? Of course not, darling. Why would anything be the matter?” James thought he heard something of a sarcastic edge in her voice, but before he could wonder further over that, she had her lips against his once more. His arms came around her instinctively, pulling her closer. By God, but she always tasted so damn good. When her hands pushed his shoulders down to rest on the chaise, he barely noticed. He didn’t notice her undoing his jacket buttons or cravat, either, until she tugged the cravat away entirely.
“What the devil? Mellie –”
“Shh.”
She kissed him again, with such blatant and innocent passion that James momentarily gave in. Then reason won out over the pounding in his blood, and he turned away, only to find Melanie’s attention had turned to his throat. Bloody hell, had she learned that from him? Well, it better not have been anyone else.
His waistcoat undone, she started to tug his shirt free from his breeches, and James snatched up her wrists.
“Melanie, what in God’s name do you think you’re you doing?” The ferocity of this statement was somewhat outweighed by the fact that he was nigh on breathless.
Melanie pulled a face, not pleased that he obviously wasn’t as senseless with passion as she was when he kissed her. “I was seducing you. If you would kindly release me, I can continue.”
James closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “You were going to…seduce me?”
“I am going to seduce you.”
Letting his legs fall to either side of the chaise to give him leverage, James sat up and looked her in the eye. She was in a rare mood indeed, her eyes bright with annoyance and her lips pursed. James savoured the look for a moment, for even irritated, she was beautiful.
“Melanie, love,” he said gently and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “not tonight.”
“Why the bloody hell not?”
James’ hand froze in its stroking of her hair, and he stared at her. Melanie never swore. He cleared his throat nervously. Perhaps there was something more to this than he knew? “Because, uh… Because we’re sure to be missed in the music room. You had better go ahead. I’ll fix my clothing and…”
He trailed off when her expression turned into a full-fledge scowl. He truly, truly must have done something wrong. “Or not?”
She outright glared at him. Raising a finger, she poked him in the chest. “You, James Norbert Fulton, are impossible.”
And with that, she stood and stormed out of the room, leaving a completely baffled James behind her.
“What is it?” she asked, in no mood to mince words.
He raised his eyebrows at her. “What is what, my lady?”
“What is the cause of that oh-so-smug expression on your face?” she elaborated.
“Well…”
“Your Grace, I can assure you I am in no mood for ‘well’s or ‘um’s or eloquently long pauses or even very long sentences at the moment.”
Urban chuckled. “Well, my lady,” – he paused purposely, grinning down at her – “I noticed that you and Mister Fulton were absent from the entertainment at overlapping intervals last night.”
“I congratulate you on your powers of observations, Your Grace.”
“And they told me you were a perfect lady.”
“I am. As long as –” She stopped short at the sight of a familiar chest-nut brown horse with a distinctive mottled sock on his front right leg heading their way. “Your Grace, would you mind if we turned back the other way?”
The duke glanced the same way as she had knowingly. “Not at all. Matters did not go as planned last night, then?” he inquired.
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Your Grace.”
James pulled his mount to a stop when Melanie and Albinson abruptly turned to walk the other way.
Niamh pulled up beside him, gazing quizzically at the couple. Then she turned to James with a chiding look. “What did you do?”
James flushed brightly. He most definitely was not going to discuss that with his cousin. “Nothing you need to know about.”
She made a face at that, but refrained from comment. James turned back to watch Melanie and the duke continue to stroll calmly along.
“Albinson,” he muttered disgustedly. “What could she possibly have to say to him?”
What Melanie had to say to Urban, in fact, concerned James. “He is so stubborn,” she hissed.
“If it would please my lady, I would be happy to be much more obliging.”
She snorted. It was a rather bad habit she was picking up from Anna’s friend, Lorraine. “You’ll propose to me, then?”
“Propose!” He looked so utterly horrified that Melanie had to laugh. After a moment, he managed to regain composure and adjusted his jacket absently. “I thought you were referring to indiscretions committed in private during tedious social functions.”
Melanie cast him a reproving look. “Come now, Your Grace. Surely you can mask words better than that. But no, I was referring to a proposal. The aim of committing any ‘indiscretions’ was to illicit a proposal from James.”
“That’s rather conniving of you, my lady.”
She smiled innocently. “I’m only tired of waiting. It’s not as if he doesn’t intend to propose at some point in time – at least, that’s what his sisters and cousins, my sister and his friends have heard from him. Do you know he even carries the ring about in his jacket pocket?”
“No. I must admit I’ve never cared to familiarize myself with Mister Fulton’s jacket.”
“Well, he does.” Melanie fell silent for awhile, looking out over the fields and hills of Hyde Park. This was a popular spots for nannies to take young children, and Melanie’s heart ached at the sight of the little ones running every which way. She’d heard that even the most fertile women could no longer bear children after reaching a certain age. Should James wait that long before proposing, she’d surely take a gun to him.
Devil take it, there had to be something she could do. Seducing James was still her best bet. He would be wary now, but there must be some way she could make it work. After all, now that she had experienced failure once, she could learn from that. Couldn’t she? What had she done wrong last night? She frowned, trying to think of the exact moment everything had gone awry. It had been when she had tried to take off his shirt. Obviously, he hadn’t been distracted enough by her kisses. What more could one do to distract a man during such proceedings? Melanie didn’t have any idea at all. Very well. She would have to ask somebody. Who?
Anna was married and surely knew of such things, but she was all the way out in Wiltshire. James’ friend, Melvin Knighton, had recently married as well. His wife was had seemed friendly enough on the few occasions that Melanie had met her, but then again, perhaps it was best to avoid asking such things of total strangers. Surely not her mother. A servant? But they might get suspicious and tattle to her parents.
“Penny for your thoughts,” the duke said, startling her out of her frustrated thoughts.
She turned to him and realization hit her sharply. Gracious, but she was standing beside one of London’s most notorious rakes, who already knew the general gist of her plans.
Melanie smiled, and saw his eyes grow wary. “Your Grace, I wonder, would you mind giving me a few pointers about seducing a man?”
Suddenly, someone flung himself into the chair across from James. Blinking in surprise, James realized it was Albinson – the bastard who’d been with Melanie that afternoon at the park. James scowled fiercely and took a swig of his brandy, only to realize it was empty and there was no waiter in sight. Bloody hell.
“You’ve got to stop her,” Albinson all but cried in panic.
James frowned at him. “Who?”
“That – that creature.”
“Eh?”
“Melanie Bradford.” He hissed the words like they threatened to bring a curse down on him. “She – she wants me to… teach her how to seduce you.”
“What?” James jumped to his feet, ready and willing to call Albinson out for that alone, duke or no duke.
Albinson reached out and yanked him back down into his chair. “Don’t look at me like that. This is all your fault, after all”
“My fault?”
“Yes, your fault. If you had just asked her to marry you sooner, she wouldn’t have gotten this hair brained idea that she has to seduce you in order to get a proposal.”
“She thinks that?”
“Yes, she thinks that, you dimwit!”
James pondered this for a minute, then slid a wary look at Albinson. “So you didn’t agree to teach how to, uh, seduce me?”
“Are you insane?” Albinson demanded, and James breathed a sigh of relief. “Of course I agreed! I have a reputation to uphold!”
James stared at him, slack jawed. He was sputtering, trying to decide what manner of death Albinson deserved, when the duke sighed and took pity on him. “I’m due to meet her at a private house in Chelsea –”
“Chelsea!” James exclaimed, horrified at the thought of his Melanie with a rake in a place well-known for housing the mistresses of the ton.
Urban ignored him and continued, “At ten this evening. All you have to do is go there in my stead and work this all out yourself.”
James let go of his outrage long enough to frown at the duke. “That’s it? You don’t even intend on going? I thought you wanted to ‘uphold’ your reputation.”
“I do. Which is why I accepted to avoid having her going about whispering to all the ladies at court that I’m not the god of carnal pleasures they always thought I was.” James rolled his eyes, but Urban ignored him once again. “As long as you don’t make a complete muddle of things tonight, she’ll be so overjoyed that she won’t give a second thought to ruining me.”
“Ruining you?” James repeated, sagging back into his chair. “I rather thought it was the other way around.”
Do this for James, she told herself. For the both of you.
Drawing in a deep breath, she stepped down from the hackney and handed the driver his pay. Though the hood of her midnight blue cloak was pulled well over her face, she still kept her head down as she climbed the front steps of the house and knocked on the door. A quiet maid answer and directed Melanie upstairs to one of the bedchambers. Her heart thudding inside her, Melanie cursed herself for a thousand different kinds of fool for agreeing to this. It was Albinson, for Heaven’s sake. He probably intended to seduce her than to teach her how to seduce another man. And here, of all places?
She almost turned around and left, but then she was at the door of the chamber, turning the knob slowly. The room was lit by nothing more than a small fire in the brazier. Albinson sat in a chair with his back to the light, leaving his face and most of his body in complete shadow.
“Your Grace,” she greeted him in an unsteady voice.
“My lady.” There was a smile in his voice, and the hairs on the back of Melanie’s neck stood up. He truly did plan on seducing her. Well, she’d show him. Melanie Bradford was not a woman to be toyed with.
“Remove your cloak,” he instructed. Melanie fancied that his voice sounded a bit odd, but decided he must be trying for a seductive tone. Thought she didn’t much care for his commanding demeanour, Melanie reasoned that it probably wasn’t practical to leave her cloak on, so she removed it and folded it nearly on the bed. It wasn’t as if they would be needing that, after all.
“Let your hair down.”
Melanie turned to glare at him. “If I’m not mistaken, sir, you’re supposed to be instructing me in the art of seduction, not using it on me.”
Again, the smile in his voice. “Indeed, you are right, my lady. I am telling you exactly what you need to do in order to seduce a man.”
Wishing she could ignore the logic in that, Melanie stripped off her gloves and tossed them on top of her cloak before plucking the pins from her hair. “Couldn’t you have simply given me a few suggestions while we were walking in the park?”
He grumbled something incomprehensible.
“Beg pardon?”
“Don’t move so quickly. Pull the pins out slowly – very slowly – one at a time. It will intrigue m– Mister Fulton.”
“Goodness, for a man like you to stutter at a moment like this!” Nonetheless, Melanie slowed her movements. To move without firm efficiency or ladylike grace felt strange, but exciting, too, in some strange way. How unfortunate he had to ruin it.
“I did not stutter!”
Melanie rolled her eyes. “Of course not, Your Grace.”
The last pin came free, leaving her hair tumbled about her shoulders in gilded gold waves.
There was a choked sound from the shadows of his face. “Must we use titles for this?”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to start calling you by your Christian name.”
He shifted, pulling something out from his coat pocket, his head bent to look at it. He wasn’t even paying any attention to her! The nerve.
Melanie put her fists on her hips and glared at him. “Well? Aren’t you going to give me any more instructions?”
“Marry me.”
For a long moment, Melanie could only stare at him in complete astonishment. Then he rose from his seat and started towards, and that’s when she saw his face. A blush ran up her neck and flooded her face.
“You!”
“Melanie –”
“Men!” she raged. “You can’t be trusted to keep anything from each other, can you? You can’t be trusted with anything at all! I can’t believe I – Oh!” Snatching up her cloak, she stormed out of the room. She could hear James’ footsteps following her.
“Melanie, wait. I didn’t mean to upset you. I simply – ”
“Didn’t mean to upset me?” she repeated. “Would you think I wouldn’t be upset when you purposely deceived me like that?”
“And you haven’t done any wrong? Bloody hell, Mellie, you tried to seduce me into giving you a proposal!”
“And I was wrong, I admit it! I was wrong and Lorraine was right and there is no happiness to be found in tying oneself to a man for the remaining entirety of one’s life!”
James stopped in the entryway and watched her slam the door in his face. God, he had mucked it up. Albinson was going to kill him.
“Mister Fulton.”
He had gotten to his feet when she came in and now walked up to her to take her hand. “Mellie, I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t do anything right a’tall, and I’m sorry for that. I meant what I said last night when I asked you to marry me, but you deserve a far better proposal than that.”
Melanie couldn’t help it. She threw her arms about his neck and kissed him soundly. “Oh, James, I don’t need a fancy proposal. It was just that it was just a shock last night when I realized it was you and –” She reached inside his jacket pocket and withdrew the ring. “I’m keeping this, now, if you don’t mind. I’m quite tired of waiting for you to give it to me.”
“You knew about that?”
“Of course I knew about it. Even the Duke of Albinson knows.”
“Of course he does,” James said wryly.
Melanie smiled at him. “You’re never going to get around to saying it, are you?”
“Saying what?”
She heaved a deep sigh. “I suppose I’ll have to say it for you then, but out of sight of the doorway. I don’t want my mother to see us, or she’ll faint.” She dragged him to a corner of the room that couldn’t be seen from the hallway.
“Mellie, what –”
With a mischievous smile, Melanie got down on one knee, though it was a bit awkward with her skirts encumbering her legs. “James Norbert Fulton, will you be my husband?”
James stared at her for a very long pause. The corners of his mouth twitched, then curved, and finally he laughed and pulled her to her feet. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Melanie,” he told her, brushing his nose against hers.
“And will you teach me how to seduce you for real?” she asked between scattered kisses.
“Not until we’re married, love, or you’ll be ruined.”
She smiled against him. “My dear Mister Fulton, ruination would be well worth the cost of having you.”