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Charlotte’s head appeared around the door. “David asked me to inform you he will be leaving shortly,” she announced.
Mélisande looked askance at Alessandro. At his almost imperceptible nod, she turned back to Charlotte. “Please ask him to stay a moment longer and join us here, and you may join us as well, Charlotte.”
She was calmly pouring tea with the aid of a servant when they entered.
“Well?” said David, lifting a brow as he came to stand in front of her, his gaze flicking over to Gravina, who stood by the windows looking out over the gardens.
Mélisande offered him a cup, telling him with her eyes to stop being rude.
He declined with a curt shake of his head.
She put the cup down and folded her hands in her lap. “We have some news to share,” she began, turning to signal Alessandro.
On cue, he moved forward to stand beside her chair. Placing a warm hand on her shoulder, he announced in a clear voice, “Lady Wilmington has agreed to become my wife.”
The delicate sound of china shattering on parquet startled them all as a carafe of cream slipped from the serving girl’s fingers. Liquid ran in translucent rivulets across the polished floor as everyone drew in an astonished breath.
Quickly, Mélisande forced her lips to form a placid smile. She had intended to announce that they were officially courting, not that they were engaged to be married! Perhaps he hadn’t quite understood what it was she’d wanted him to do?
It didn’t matter. Now that Charlotte and a servant had borne witness to his announcement, there was no way to rectify the situation without an unacceptable amount of embarrassment.
DAMAGE CONTROL
PERHAPS IT WAS a rash impulse, but it didn’t feel like a mistake. Alessandro waited, his stomach as tight as the head of a drum. He hadn’t planned for things to unfold in quite this manner, but when the opportunity had presented itself, he hadn’t hesitated.
For five long years, Mélisande had lived in his thoughts and dreams. Though they’d met only once, he’d never forgotten her. And he knew that for those same five years, she’d searched fruitlessly for another man to reignite the flame he’d set. If, as she’d said, Fate had delivered to her exactly what she desired, then it had done the same for him.
He’d original
ly planned to make her his mistress, but he’d grown tired of shallow things that didn’t last. He wanted more than just an affaire.
Pelham finally broke the awkward silence. “Leave us,” he commanded the stunned servant. “Now.” Though he’d spoken softly, the girl dropped her cloth and ran from the room as though chased by the devil. Shutting the door behind her, Pelham walked over to Mélisande, carefully avoiding the half-mopped pool of cream on the floor. He flicked the sheets in his hand into her lap. “I’m certainly glad to hear of His Grace’s honorable intentions, considering what the papers had to say this morning.”
Alessandro watched as she spread them flat and began to read. Over her shoulder, he saw amid the social columns a grossly exaggerated caricature. He was depicted wearing the leering face and fangs of a slavering wolf, and she was garbed in nothing more than an artfully draped banner that read “Folie Jolie.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She sighed, dismissing it with a wave. “We knew when we planned the waltz that it would likely result in just this sort of rubbish.” She wadded up the paper and pitched it into the hearth, where it was quickly consumed in the crackling flames.
“Yes, but that was before you unexpectedly switched dance partners!” Pelham snapped, going to the window.
“Let us remain calm,” she replied with cool dignity. “Once all the fuss has died down, we’ll simply—” She paused as her eye fell upon Charlotte, who was hanging on her every word. “...begin making the arrangements,” she finished, looking rather pale.
Alessandro knew she’d been about to say call it off and make the appropriate excuses.
“Well then, allow me to be the first to congratulate you,” said Pelham. He made a short bow before them. “When will you make the official announcement?”
Mélisande’s pale cheeks now reddened. “Not for some time, obviously. People know he only just arrived here. We’ll need to let the uproar die down a bit, lest people think the wrong thing. Perhaps a party next month?”
“Ahh, but they already think the wrong thing,” Pelham countered. “And the papers have already condemned you. You know as well as I that news of your engagement will get out no matter how you threaten or bribe the servants. The entire household knows by now, if not the street entire. You really should make an announcement sooner rather than later, if only for Charlie’s sake.”
“I will post an announcement in the papers at the end of the week.”
“And when will the happy day be?” Pelham prodded, ignoring her venomous glare. He was obviously enjoying her discomfiture.
Alessandro smiled and answered for her. “Why not early autumn?”
Mélisande wondered if he had lost his mind, but he appeared quite serious. In fact, he seemed almost merry. Just then, he caught her eye and winked at her, as if to say, I’ve got everything under control.
Charlotte piped up at last, clearly unable to contain herself any longer. “Shall we not at least have a small party to celebrate?” she suggested.
