Minor Indiscretions
it in her wool muffler—with an I-dare-you look to Nanny—and carried it back to the carriage, where the pup had food and water from the hamper before falling asleep in its savior's lap. Melody promptly named her new friend Angel, then proceeded to dampen the poor beast with her tears.
Chapter Six
    « ^ »
     
    "You brought home another charity case? For heaven's sake, Melody,
we
are a charity case! How could any child of mine be such a skitterwitted ninnyhammer? Where's my hartshorn? I need my salts. Perhaps a cordial."
    Lady Jessamyn Ashton was reclining on the lounge in her bedroom, exhausted from the effort of offering her cheek to be kissed. She was interestingly pale, dressed in lavender gauze, and she fluttered a square of silk between her watery eyes and her ample bosom. With an air of die-away frailty, she asked, "Was ever a woman so beset?"
    Melody poured out a tonic from the tray nearby. "Come, Mama, things cannot be as bad as all that. You sent me money for new clothes, remember?"
    "A lady has to keep up appearances no matter what. Do you think I would let that harpy in Bath discover we are in Dun Territory? The woman has a wider correspondence than I do. Did, alas. I could not bear it if everyone in the ton knew we were below hatches. Could you sprinkle some rosewater on my handkerchief, dear?"
    Melody did, and placed it tenderly across her mother's forehead. "But are we?" she persisted. "Are we below hatches?"
    Lady Ashton tossed the cloth on the floor, dropping the role of tragedy queen with it. "Don't be such a gudgeon. We've been punting on tick for years. Now there's almost no income at all."
    "But, Mama, the way you live, all the clothes and traveling, and my schooling, my allowance. I do not understand."
    "Then you are a paperskull, Melody. The only hope we ever had was to find you a wealthy
parti
. The breeding was there, along with a modest dowry, thanks to Judith, and we made sure you had the education the highest sticklers demand in a wife. We encouraged the necessary connections, all those well-born girls at your so-fashionable school, all my so-called friends. Friends, hah! Where are they now, I wonder."
    "Do you mean everything was for me to make an advantageous marriage? I thought I was to have a love match."
    Lady Jessamyn gave that the consideration it deserved, none. "I researched the prospects for years before settling on Dickie Pendleton, whom I have been cultivating for ages now. He's an earl, and as rich as Croesus, they say, and needing an heir before he's too old to—before much longer at any rate. He wouldn't commit himself till your, come out, of course, but we did talk settlements over Christmas at Sally Jersey's."
    "Without… without even asking me?" Melody choked out.
    "Of course, the man's the most sanctimonious Methodist in town, and I should have known he'd shab off at the first hint of gossip."
    Gossip? Melody's head was already reeling, and for a moment she wondered if there was talk of her indiscretion—indiscretions—at that inn. Rumor could not possibly have reached Copley-Whitmore, not if Nanny hadn't brought it, and there would have been a rare trimming indeed, in that case. Nothing was making sense! Setting aside the question of Lord Pendleton, forever, she hoped, Melody asked, "What gossip, Mama?"
    Lady Jessamyn recalled her persona. She sniffled and dabbed at her eyes. "Ah, if only I knew. Not that it would have mattered either way. With no new money coming in, there isn't enough blunt left for a proper Season: renting a suitable address, throwing a ball, presentation gowns, you know. Mr. Hadley says no one will extend me credit." She pounded her fist on the table. "I should have made the stiff-rumped prig put an offer in writing! No, not Hadley, you twit," Lady Ashton scolded at Melody's gasp. Mr. Hadley was the family's aging man of business. "That twiddlepoop Pendleton. Not that Hadley was any big help. And stop pacing, it is wearing on my delicate

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