The Pursuit by Johanna Lindsey Page B

feelings for her. I haven’t seen her but a few times since.”
    Melissa looked stricken, sympathy for him pouring out of her. Bloody hell, he shouldn’t have been so blunt about that either. Not that he meant to keep it a secret from her, nor would he have been able to, but he needn’t have mentioned it quite this soon.
    He tried to shrug it off, didn’t want her feeling sorry for him. “It matters little now after all these years,” he said. “Don’t give it another thought.”
    Melissa’s look was now doubtful, but he wasn’t very adept at lying, so he added, “In any case, she doesn’t live with me and will be returning to Scotland soon, where she still resides.”
    “What o’ yer da?” Ian wanted to know. “Had he nae say in yer being abandoned?”
    “He had died a few years previously when a mine he was inspecting collapsed.”
    Ian went rather still upon hearing that. He was probably experiencing some sympathy as well but was hesitant to mention it. The visit ended soon after. They had errands to see to before dinner and the theater that night. Melissa gave Lincoln the name of the play in case he thought to attend. They were scheduled for a four-day gathering in the country that would last the rest of the week, to which she promised to secure an invitation for him.
    Lincoln left the St. James residence feeling very light of heart, with no idea that his hopes for the future were about to come tumbling down.

Thirteen
    L INCOLN arrived at the theater that night very eager to see Melissa again. It made no difference that he had seen her only hours earlier. That wasn’t enough.
    It didn’t take much to realize that he didn’t like being parted from her at all, nor that he couldn’t see her whenever he liked. Just visiting wasn’t enough either—only marriage was going to give him the access to her that he found himself craving. He would have to ask his aunt exactly how long a courtship should last, and he would be asking Melissa to marry him the moment that time was reached.
    She didn’t show up.
    If Lincoln hadn’t brought Edith along with him, he could have left to find out why. But he was Edith’s only chaperon that night, and he didn’t have the heart to ask her to forgo the outing, when she was receiving a good deal of unexpected attention.
    Apparently having someone like Justin St. James take to the floor with her last night had been precisely the sort of thing to give her that thrust forward she’d been needing. Several men came forward to introduce themselves to her before they found their seats, several more during the intermission, and one approached her twice and even asked if he could call on her the next day.
    Edith was bubbling over with excitement on the way home that night. Lincoln made an effort not to dampen her mood, even though his own was filled with worry. Of course, any number of things could have happened to cause Melissa to cancel going to the theater. It wasn’t as if she were missing an actual event she’d been invited to, one that would require formal regrets sent to the inviter if she couldn’t attend. And he’d find out soon enough what had happened to change her plans when he called on her tomorrow.
    So he thought. But he found out different when he arrived at the ducal town house the next afternoon, at precisely the same time as the previous day, only to be denied entry again, though this time simply because the duchess and her young guest were out of town. They had already departed for the country gathering that Melissa had mentioned to him and weren’t likely to be back before the end of the week.
    “Whose gathering were they attending?” Lincoln thought to ask, since it might be one he or his aunt had already been invited to.
    The man, eager to get the door closed, said simply, “I’ve no idea, sir.”
    Lincoln found that doubtful, when most butlers made it their business to know everything involving their employers. But rather than making accusations