A Monstrous Secret: A Tangled Hearts Romance by Rebecca Ward

Author:Rebecca Ward [Ward, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: White Glove
Published: 2014-02-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

To Melinda’s astonishment, Dr. Gildfish did not veto Zenobie’s request for a dinner party. “A change may be what you need to raise your spirits,” he said. “You can have your dinner party as long as you practice moderation.”

Zenobie made a face. “ ‘Moderation’ is such an odious word, but I will obey you, dear Dr. Gildfish. And may I attend Mrs. Pennodie’s morning party? I must see this wonderful garden with my own eyes.”

The prospect of her dinner, set for the night before Mrs. Pennodie’s party, restored Zenobie’s spirits and much of her health. “That is, if she ever lost it,” the irrepressible Miss Poll sniffed to Melinda as she helped her dress on the night of the party. “I tell you, Miss Mel, the Rooshan’s a sly one, and her servants aren’t any better. Useless lot, if you ask my opinion, and Mr. Russtin’s too old and soft to control them proper.”

Since Melinda had dealt with Zenobie’s staff during her illness, she was inclined to agree. She had tried to explain her servants’ inadequacies to her cousin, who promised to take matters into her hands but did nothing. “I don’t think she is happy, Polly,” Melinda said slowly. “Yesterday I found her in tears. It isn’t like Zenobie to be in the mopes.”

A grim little smile hovered on Miss Poll’s lips. “Perhaps she’s in love again,” she suggested. “Sure as my name’s Jane Poll, she’s got her mind set on being Lady Blyminster.”

But Sir Rupert did not smoke cigars. Speculation about the man Zenobie had met at the lake followed Melinda downstairs into the as yet silent Green Room, where the guests were to gather before dinner. Here she discovered that the French windows had not been shut properly, and that a breeze, softened by earlier showers, was ruffling an arrangement of spring flowers. As she rearranged these blooms, Melinda remained deep in thought.

Whom had Zenobie met so secretively that night? Why did she pretend to be so full of spirits and then weep unobserved? Why?

“Why what?” a familiar male voice inquired behind her. “Was that a question to the world at large, or where you just thinking out loud?”

By now Melinda had become accustomed to Lord Hartford’s silent tread. She gave him her hand, saying, “I did not know you had arrived. Is Sir Rupert with you?”

“He went down to the lake, mumbling something about water temperature.” Hartford looked around the room. “This looks very pleasant. Your doing?”

The room lacked the opulent touches of which Lady Darlington was so fond. The heavier furniture had been banished, and comfortable, leather-upholstered chairs had been rearranged so as to welcome rather than impress. Instead of masses of flamboyant hothouse blooms, simple garden flowers filled the vases.

And in her simple gray crepe vertical gown Melinda was as lovely as the flowers. Hartford felt his heart lighten, as it always seemed to do when she was near. “Charming,” he said.

The heartfelt approval in his voice made her ridiculously happy. “Zenobie is not yet feeling quite the thing,” she explained, “so I have been trying to help.

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