Dreaming of You (27 page)

“All three of my children had a great fondness for sweets, but I do believe Gavin was the worst of the lot.”  The duchess smiled at Gavin affectionately.  “As a boy he was repeatedly caught sneaking into the kitchens in search of Mrs. Potter’s delicious confections.  Though I daresay she hardly minded, for the dear woman spoiled Gavin shamelessly, and still does for that matter.  In fact, I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that a batch of his favorite apple tarts was cooling in the kitchen as we speak.”
 

The mention of apple tarts immediately reminded Melody of her and Gavin’s afternoons at the cottage.  His love of cinnamon-sugared apple tarts was one of the few things she had been able to learn about him at the time.  She couldn’t help casting a quick glance in his direction, wondering if his mother’s comment had reminded him of that long ago time as well.  
 

From the corner of his eye, Gavin noted Melody’s side-long glance.  He recalled instantly the time he’d told her of his fondness for apple tarts, when she had jokingly asked him what his favorite flower was and he’d told her of his favorite tree instead.  He’d thought her interest genuine at the time, but now he knew better.  It had just been another part of her act.
 

“I like apple tarts too,” William said enthusiastically, as he licked the last trace of sugar from his lips.
 

“Me too,” Emma added.
 

“Well then, if she hasn’t already, I shall personally see to it that Mrs. Potter prepares a great lot for all of us during our visit,” Gavin assured them.
 

A short while later, when it became clear that the children were becoming restless, Gavin rose from his chair and offered to take William and Emma outside in search of the hounds as he’d promised.  Although William was eager and more than willing to accompany him, bounding from his seat and moving to Gavin’s side at once, Emma appeared somewhat hesitant.  Recalling her fascination with the white pony that she had admired in her book, he quickly suggested they pay a visit to the stables to see the horses as well.  
 

Glancing toward her mother, Emma noted Melody’s encouraging nod.  Turning back to Gavin, she hesitated for only a moment before sliding from her seat on the settee and joining her brother at the duke’s side.
 

“We won’t be long,” Gavin said, as he steered the children toward the door, and then purposefully pulled it closed behind them.
 

Once she and the duchess were alone, Melody felt her apprehension escalate once again.  Jane Montrose’s manner had been warm and friendly in the presence of Gavin and the children, but she couldn’t help wondering if that was about to change now that it was just the two of them in the room.  She met the older woman’s gaze and silently waited for her to speak.
 

The duchess eyed Melody thoughtfully for a time.  “Were you in love with my son when William and Emma were conceived?” she finally asked.
 

The sudden intensity of the duchess’ expression combined with the bluntness of her inquiry took Melody completely by surprise.  She faltered for a moment, but then answered the question honestly.  “Yes, I was,” she admitted, though her own expression was somber as she held the duchess’ gaze.
 

“And are you still?”
 

She swallowed, her mouth going dry as she glanced down at her lap for a moment.  “Yes.”
 

Jane nodded, as if she’d assumed as much.  “I must admit that my son was not entirely forthcoming when we spoke earlier,” she began.  “In fact, his account of your prior relationship was rather vague.  And although I can well-understand his desire not to provide me with the intimate details of your…
liaison
, I cannot help but wonder if there isn’t a great deal more to the story than he chose to tell me.”
 

As she’d feared, the duchess was far more perceptive than Gavin had let on.  “I…that is…the basis of our relationship…is rather complicated,” Melody stammered uneasily.  The duchess was clearly waiting for her to continue, but unless Gavin decided otherwise, there was little more she could say by means of explanation.
 

Jane tipped her head to the side in a contemplative manner.  “And like my son, you choose not to elaborate?”
 

Melody shook her head.  “I’m sorry, I-”
 

“No no,” the duchess said, raising her hand.  “You need not apologize.  I understand.  Whatever the previous relationship was between you and my son is clearly none of my affair, and we shall leave it at that.”
 

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Melody replied softly.
 

“However, I
am
curious as to why you waited so long to inform Gavin about the children,” she said, tilting her head to the side once again as she studied Melody’s face.  “Your late husband passed nearly five years ago, did he not?”
 

“Yes, he did,” Melody acknowledged, “though I’m afraid that my reason for waiting is rather complicated as well.  “I
can
tell you, however, that I
deeply
regret that Gavin has not been a part of William and Emma’s lives until now.  It wasn’t fair to him, or to them.”  Holding the duchess’ steady gaze, she could only hope that her words conveyed the sincerity that she felt.  “Or to you, Your Grace.  And for that, I am truly sorry.”
 

Surprisingly, the duchess accepted her apology with unexpected benevolence, and Melody couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of relief at the woman’s magnanimity.  She also realized that she owed Gavin a great deal of gratitude, for he could have easily painted a very unpleasant picture of her to his mother, which clearly he hadn’t.  It was just another indication of the kind of man he was.  He had protected her, in spite of his anger.
 

Fortunately, Jane did not press her for additional information, and for the next twenty minutes, she and the duchess managed to carry on a surprisingly pleasant conversation.
 

Later that afternoon, shortly after Gavin and the children had returned from their outing, Melody, William and Emma had been shown upstairs by the Montrose family’s cheery, rosy-cheeked housekeeper Mrs. Dashwood.  And now, as the children napped in the nursery under the watchful eye of a delightful young housemaid named Charlotte, Melody stood quietly before the window in the bedchamber she’d been assigned just a short distance away, staring pensively at the expansive rear gardens as she contemplated the day’s events thus far.  Her thoughts were soon interrupted however by a light knock upon the door.
 

“Just a moment,” she called, turning toward the door.  Crossing the room, she opened it to find one of Rutherford Park’s footmen standing outside.
 

“Yes.”
 

“His Grace is requesting your company in the rose drawing room, My Lady,” the young man informed her.
 

“Oh.”  Unconsciously she bit down upon her lower lip.  She and Gavin hadn’t been alone together since his initial visit to her London home, but she’d known the time would come eventually.
 

“If you would care to follow me, I shall direct you to its location.”
 

“Yes of course,” she replied as she stepped out into the hall.  Following a few steps behind the uniformed servant, Melody’s pulse began to race.  And when they finally reached the afore-mentioned room a few minutes later, her heart felt as if it might beat right out of her chest.
 

“Here you are, My Lady.”
 

Stepping across the threshold, Melody struggled to calm her rioting nerves as the well-mannered footman retreated, pulling the wide double-doors closed as he exited the room.  She saw Gavin then, standing with his back to her as he gazed out of one of the large windows that lined the south wall of the room.  She stood there, hesitant and unsure for several long moments before he finally turned.
 

With his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, Gavin regarded her in silence.  She stood just inside the door, hands clasped tightly in front of her, the set of her delicate features revealing her obvious apprehension.  When he spoke, his tone was deliberately devoid of emotion.  “Why me?”
 

Held immobile by his penetrating gaze, Melody was caught momentarily off guard by the sudden question.  She shook her head slowly from side to side.  “I don’t know,” she managed after a few seconds had passed.
 

“You don’t know?” Gavin asked dubiously.
 

Unlocking her frozen limbs, Melody moved further into the room.  Walking toward a rose-colored settee, she sat down, her hands smoothing indiscernible wrinkles from her full skirt as she struggled with how to respond.  “I do not know why Charles chose
you
in particular,” she began slowly.  “I only know that he wanted the child to be of impeccable lineage, fathered by an aristocrat.”
 

So it
was
Charles who had chosen him.  After thinking it through, he’d assumed as much.  If the son of a bitch was willing to pass another man’s child off as his own, surely some random commoner’s bastard wouldn’t have sufficed.  And of course, the lengths to which his and Melody’s identities had been concealed now made perfect sense.  It had all been to protect the earl’s damnable ego, no doubt.  How fortunate he thought once again, that Charles Cavendish was already dead.
 

“Did you of know my identity, even then?”
 

Melody’s eyes widened at the notion that he thought she might have known who he was all along.  “No.  Charles never told me your name, I swear.”  Her voice was steady, her expression earnest.  “I realized who you were only after my arrival in London.”
 

“How?”
 

“Your voice,” she admitted softly.  “I…wasn’t certain at first, but then something your sister said…well…it confirmed my suspicions.”
 

Gavin tensed, his eyes narrowing.  “What
exactly
did she say?”
 

Melody swallowed hard.  “I was speaking with her about my brother, and how as a child he used to fantasize about growing up and becoming a pirate.”
 

He eyed her curiously then, his expression bewildered.
 

“She mentioned the scar.”  Her eyes drifted to his jaw.  “The one you received when you and your brother staged the mock battle with your father’s swords.”  
 

“Oh.”  He recalled telling her about the scar.  Unfortunately, thinking back to that day, to the memory of her fingers as they’d lightly traced the line of his jaw, moving softly over the faint raised line, brought up feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge, causing his jaw to tighten in aggravation.
 

Melody noticed.  “Your Grace, I know you may not believe me, but I
was
going to tell you.   I just didn’t know how to-”
 

Gavin snorted, arresting her words.  “Considering the intimate nature of our past relationship, the use of titles at this point seems a bit nonsensical, wouldn’t you agree?” he said, deliberately ignoring her assertion.  Whether or not she was telling the truth hardly mattered at this point.
 

The unmistakable derision in his tone caused Melody to drop her gaze to her lap in desolation.  It didn’t matter if he believed her, for clearly he despised her, and likely always would.  She expected nothing less, but the reminder was still painful.  When she raised her eyes once again, her expression was subdued, her voice hollow.  “I’m sorry.  If I could undo what was done I would, but unfortunately I cannot change the past.”
 

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that?” he scoffed in disbelief.  “That given another chance, you would have done anything differently?”
 

“I…”  She faltered.  If given another chance, knowing then what she knew now,
would
she have been willing to put her family at risk, allowing Charles to follow through on his threats?  In all honestly, it was a question she couldn’t answer.
 

Gavin detected the flicker of doubt in her eyes, and then the resignation.  “That’s what I thought.”
 

Sighing in defeat, Melody dropped her gaze, realizing that there was nothing more she could say, nothing she could do that would change what could not be changed.  “What is it that you intend to do?” she asked solemnly.
 

His intentions?
  That was something he’d been struggling with for the past twenty-four hours.  In truth, the trip to Rutherford Park had been an impulsive decision, an impetuous reaction to the sudden and unexpected confirmation that Melody Cavendish was the mystery woman from the cottage, and that he had both a son and a daughter whom he had never once laid eyes upon.  But now, having spent the day with his children, he knew with utter certainty that he couldn’t lose them, not again.  William and Emma were a part of his life now, a part of his future, and thus, unfortunately so was their mother.  And so, as much as he desired retribution for what Melody had done, for the sake of the children he knew he had to set those feelings aside, as difficult as it may be.  
 

Exactly how to proceed, however, was another matter entirely.  To claim William and Emma publically would be to reveal their illegitimacy to the harsh and oft times ruthless nature of Society, and undeniably stigmatize them for life.  And how in good conscience could he do that to his own children?  But what other options did he have?  To suddenly involve himself in the lives of the Countess of Edgington’s children would hardly go unnoticed, and then it would only be a matter of time before their secret was exposed.  So, as objectionable as the decision might be, he understood that there was only one acceptable option. “What I intend, is to announce our engagement within the course of the next few weeks.”