by Hazel Hunter
“I did not think you would come tonight,” Meredith said, stepping to one side to allow Thorne access to the bowl. He looked exceedingly handsome in his black evening tailcoat and snowy linen cravat, tied as artfully as a Londoner’s over his pale gold waistcoat. Yet all she could do as she looked at him was remember the passion of his mouth on hers. “You did not wear your uniform.”
“I am no longer a soldier.” Once he gave her the punch he ushered her over to a quieter spot opposite the musicians. “I hope you are recovered from yesterday’s incident at the hall. I realized too late that I should never have taken you into that part of the house. The upper floors appear on the verge of collapse.”
“You saved me from harm,” Meredith assured him. If he was going to pretend that the embrace had never happened, then so would she. “That does not happen very often with me before some part of me is bleeding or broken. I am in your debt again.”
“Here you are, Cousin.” Percival abruptly joined them, followed by most of the younger girls at the ball. He regarded Thorne with a frown. “Oh, dear. I had not realized you were engaged. Forgive me if I intrude.”
Meredith introduced the men before she said to her cousin, “I thought you would be occupied with Miss Hardiwick.”
“She promised a dance to Travers, who outranks this lowly lieutenant,” Percival said, making the girls around them giggle. “Colonel, why are you not in uniform? We must rally spirits wherever we go these days, you know. Disheartens the enemy.”
“Indeed.” Thorne’s smile faded as he inspected her cousin’s medals. “You are quite decorated for a lowly lieutenant.”
“Just doing my part, sir.” Percival reached for Meredith’s arm. “It grows so hot in here. Come, Cousin, we will take a turn on the terrace and–”
Thorne stepped between them. “I am not finished speaking to Miss Starling, Lieutenant.”
Meredith saw in his eyes the same passionate heat he’d shown her in the tower.
“I daresay this is the new master of Dredthorne.” Lady Hardiwick arrived with all the pomp and ceremony of a ship sailing into port, her voluminous skirts parting the tittering girls like a sea of ribbon-sashed muslin waves. She regarded Thorne with a scowl. “Well, sir. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Milady,” Percival said quickly, “May I introduce–”
“You certainly may not.” Her ladyship snapped her fan against her palm. “I am not some green girl to be made spellbound by a handsome man with a chest filled with medals. Nor do I require introductions to a person with whom I am not certain I wish to be acquainted.”
“Then, my lady, I should very much like to make your acquaintance,” Thorne said, and bowed. “Colonel Alistair Thorne, at your service.”
“I am Lettice Hardiwick.” She inclined her head a scant inch. “I thought I must send the stablemen out to Dredthorne to drag you from that French monstrosity. Indeed, why have you chosen to grace us with your presence now, when you have lived these three months like a hermit in a cave?”
Meredith closed her eyes briefly. Well, she had wished the colonel to enter society; here was the gatekeeper, demanding her due. People were starting to assemble around them to watch Thorne brace the dragon of Renwick.
“My cave has grown tiresome, my lady, and you demanded my attendance.” Thorne’s gaze shifted as Prudence waded her way through the girls to her mother’s side. “In time I hope we may become friends.”
“Do you now.” Lady Hardiwick gave him a narrow look. “This is my daughter, Prudence.” She hustled the girl forward and nearly sent her sprawling as she was in mid-curtsey. “Stand up straight, girl,” she hissed.
“Miss Hardiwick.” Thorne bowed.
“Oh, Colonel.” Prudence looked all over him as she might a luscious dessert, and then indulged in the only thing she did besides giggle, which was to gush. “You are very welcome here. How do you get on with that terrible house? It is dreadfully neglected. Mama calls it a blight on the neighborhood, and Papa thinks it should be torn down. I hear you are very rich now that you have inherited, so you must spend a great deal–”
“Prudence.” The mention of money made Lady Hardiwick look as if she might explode.
“Excuse me, my lady, but I believe my cousin wished to dance with your daughter,” Meredith said quickly, giving Percival a discreet nudge.
“Yes, for I daresay you have the bluest eyes in all of England, Miss Hardiwick.” As she tittered, Percival offered his arm.
“Well done,” Thorne murmured to Meredith as Prudence latched onto her cousin and steered him onto the ballroom floor, also drawing away her mother’s attention.
“I should not get your hopes up, Colonel,” Lady Hardiwick said, the skin around her eyes and nose wrinkling with peevishness. “Young Starling is a military hero, and quite well-liked in Renwick, unlike some gentlemen I could name.” She eyed Meredith. “I am surprised you have never set your cap on your cousin, Miss Starling. For after your parents die, he will be within his rights to put you out. There will be no more cast-off dresses for you then, I daresay.”
Knowing she was being punished now for interfering, Meredith smiled blandly. “I have no such expectations, my lady. Percival has always been like a brother to me.”
“He is not your brother, girl. That is the material point.” The older woman sniffed. “Still, I think it wise that he refrains from this hasty choice. There are many girls of very good fortune here tonight. My Prudence will make her husband a very wealthy man.”
Hasty choice? Meredith had no idea her cousin had formed an attachment to any young lady.
Thorne ignored the arch look Lady Hardiwick gave him and said to Meredith. “Would you do me honor of dancing the quadrille with me, Miss Starling?”
Before Meredith could answer the older woman crowed, “Oh, no, Colonel, you can never take this girl as your partner. She is as ungainly as a cripple, particularly when she involves herself in any activity requiring grace. She could very well break your leg.”
“I have survived some three hundred battles, my lady,” the colonel told her. “I think I may squeak through the dangers of a country dance.”
Without giving her another chance to speak he swept Meredith away to the dance floor.
“She is right, you know,” Meredith murmured as she took her place in the set across from him. “No one ever wishes to partner with me.”
He bowed to her along with the gentlemen in the set. “Then everyone is a fool, my dear.”
For a soldier Thorne danced effortlessly, showing graceful skill that made the other men around him seem clumsy. Meredith soon forgot her nervousness and simply enjoyed the chance to spin and turn with him, clasping his hand as they moved through the steps and wove in and out of the other couples.
“I should tell you I have acquired a housekeeper,” Thorne said as they waited on another couple to complete their set. “Your cousin Lucetta, as it happens.”
After all the terrible questions the older woman had asked her Meredith had felt quite cross with her, but this news proved astonishing. “I do not understand. She is a governess.”
“I must allow her to explain her situation to you, but we are both quite satisfied with the new arrangement.” As the music slowed to an ending, he took her hand and bowed over it. “I will send her with the carriage for you in the morning, if that is acceptable?”
“Yes, of course.” Meredith curtseyed in return and then walked with him from the floor. As they passed through a mass of other dancers also leaving, something caught her twisted foot and wrenched it. The pain sent her hurtling forward, her cry of alarm causing the guests in front of her to scatter in panic.
Thorne caught her before she toppled to the floor. “I have you, my dear.”
Meredith looked at him and knew in that moment that no matter what her misfortunes brought on her, she would always be safe with him.
“It seems you do, sir.” She glanced down at her aching foot, from which her slipper had vanished
. “Only I fear I can dance no more tonight.”
“Cousin.” Percival rushed up, and looked at the arm Thorne had tucked around her waist. “Are you hurt? Come and sit and let me look at your poor foot. It is your foot again, isn’t it? Got tangled up in your skirts?” He grimaced at Thorne. “When we were nippers she was very nearly lamed by a poacher’s trap, but I saved her.”
“Yes, she told me.” The colonel helped Meredith hobble over to a settee, and eased her down before regarding the lieutenant. “Perhaps you would be good enough to find her parents, so they may take her home?”
His flinty tone made Percival nod quickly and retreat. A gentleman came up and offered Meredith her missing slipper. Thorne took it from him and carefully placed it on her foot, causing some watching ladies to gasp out loud.
“This new sprain will prevent you from coming to Dredthorne tomorrow,” Thorne said, and shook his head when she began to protest. “You must stay home and rest, or you will make it worse.”
“I know. I did warn you this would happen,” Meredith said, feeling decidedly glum. “But at least I did not tread on your feet while we were dancing.”
“You did not do this,” Thorn said, his voice low. “There is a tear and a scuff mark on your skirt hem, and it did not come from those white slippers. I think you were tripped. Was it that Hardiwick girl?”
“No, I caught my foot on something. The silk must have become damaged when I did.” She saw her mother, father and cousin approaching and tried to rise. “I must introduce you to my parents.”
“Sit down.” Thorne raised an eyebrow at Percival, who quickly introduced his aunt and uncle. “A pleasure. Your daughter has been hurt.”
“Yes, I see. Stumbled again, my dear? That bad foot does you ill every time. Take my walking stick.” Meredith’s father offered her his cane. “Are you ready to go home, my dear?”
“Yes, this night is ruined.” Lady Starling looked disgusted as she adjusted her wrap. “Do enjoy yourself while you can, Colonel. Percival, give your mother our regrets, and do call on us tomorrow evening.”
Meredith tried to smile at Thorne before she hobbled away after her parents, her heart throbbing as madly as her foot.
Chapter 8
Spending the day confined to her bedchamber allowed Meredith ample time to relive the wonderful moments she had spent dancing with Alistair Thorne. He had transformed an ever-dreaded activity into a new and exciting delight, and for once gave her a chance to be like other young ladies. If only she hadn’t been so clumsy and tripped, she might have spent the evening in his company. But at least she had the memory of their one dance to cherish—and the kisses they had shared in the tower before disaster struck.
Annie brought her meals on trays, and promised to do what she could to repair the jade silk gown.
“This looks like boot blacking, Miss,” the maid said, showing her the scuff mark. “You must have kicked a gentleman jolly hard to make that mark.”
“I suppose I did that as I fell,” Meredith told her.
As the day dragged on she thought on everything that had happened over and over. She’d felt her foot catch on something hard, something that had jerked it back and sent her off-balance. She hadn’t seen what; it might have been a boot. Perhaps her foot had collided with a man’s boot as he had been taking a step, but then it wouldn’t have jerked backward unless he was walking past her. Everyone around her had been leaving the dance floor, moving in the same direction Meredith had been walking.
In the end she had to agree with Thorne’s claim that someone had tripped her: a man, for ladies did not wear boots. But who would be so spiteful?
During her afternoon tea Meredith tested her weight on her foot, which felt much improved, and decided to go downstairs for dinner. She asked Annie to walk with her. The last thing she needed to do was take another tumble down the stairs. But when she reached the dining room she found it empty. From there she followed the sound of her mother’s voice into the sitting room.
Her mother and aunt and cousin were having a very late tea, while her father sat reading a book. All of them looked up as she came in as if expecting her.
“Mama.” Meredith smiled at her cousin and aunt. “Why is everyone here?”
“I was just going to send the maid to fetch you.” Lady Starling gestured for Meredith to sit beside her, a favored spot usually reserved for Percival.
“Should we not be having dinner, Mama?” she asked, feeling confused.
“We have come together for a special purpose, my dear, and had to discuss the particulars. Everything has been decided to our satisfaction.” Her mother beamed happily at Percival. “Very well, my dear boy. You may proceed.”
Meredith glanced up at her cousin, whom she just now realized was wearing his finest tailcoat and cravat, and then at his mother, who looked absolutely bilious. “Has something happened, Cousin?”
“Meredith, my dear girl,” Percival said, placing his hands behind his back and clearing his throat several times. “You know that since we were nippers I have had much affection for you. All these years your excellent parents…” He smiled at Lady Starling. “…have treated me like a beloved son. I think I have also been of great service to you in your times of trouble.”
Meredith felt a little impatient now. “Yes, I’ve always regarded you like a brother, Percival. I’m grateful for your many kindnesses to me.” Did she have to express her gratitude every time they were together?
He frowned a little, as if she had made him lose his place in a well-rehearsed speech. “Yes, well. I know you have endured much suffering, which I find admirable. Unhappily your misfortunes have prevented any suitable man from forming an attachment to you. This has made me very sad on your behalf. Indeed, I have often wondered what I might do to assuage your pain.”
“You have been a constant companion.” One Meredith often wished she could avoid, truth be told. Her cousin’s vanity often grew tiresome. “I daresay your brotherly affection has never wavered.”
Percival pressed a hand over his heart. “Indeed, with me at your side I know I may be able to deflect future tragedy, and fill your life with new meaning and purpose.”
Lavinia made a mournful sound and propped her brow against her hand.
He meant to offer for her, Meredith suddenly realized. The very notion sent a shudder of revulsion through her. Marry Percival? Allow him to kiss her and touch her and whatever more happened in a marriage?
She had to escape this before it was too late.
“I thank you for your kind words, cousin. I am feeling rather tired, so I must go back to my room now,” Meredith said, rising quickly to her feet.
“Do not be ridiculous.” Lady Starling tugged her back down. “You were meant to hear this last night. That was the whole reason for attending Lady Hardiwick’s ball. We intended to announce it there, before all our friends, but you spoiled that. Now permit Percival to finish what he wishes to tell you.” She made an encouraging gesture to her nephew.
“I know you are in pain, dear girl, but I bring joy to you this night,” her cousin assured her. “All I have ever wanted is your happiness, Meredith, and I know you feel the same. So, I have come here to ask you to join with me in the endeavor for the rest of our lives and do me the honor.” He went down on one knee.
Meredith stared at his toothy smile. He really had done it. “You wish to marry me.”
“Of course, he does,” Lady Starling hissed.
“I am not in favor of the match,” Lavinia said to no one in particular.
She looked from her cousin to her father, who seemed oblivious to what was happening. “Papa?”
Her father glanced up from his book and squinted at her. “What? Oh, yes, Percival has spoken with me, and I have given my permission.” He waved a hand. “You may accept, my dear.”
“I am so happy,” Lady Starling said before Meredith could reply. “I never dared hope this day would come for you, and now it is here. You will remain at Starling House,
and have the very best of husbands.”
“Forgive me, but I will not marry Percival.” As everyone stared at her, Meredith rose again. “Thank you for your offer, Cousin. I am quite conscious of the honor you do me. Yet my heart insists I speak truthfully. I am not in love with you. I absolutely cannot accept.”
“What?” Lady Starling's face reddened as if slapped on both cheeks. “You may not refuse him. Tell him yes, Meredith, this very instant.”
“Mama.” She felt exasperated. “You cannot force me to marry.”
“I am your mother, and you are very nearly a spinster. Of course, I can.” Her eyes narrowed, and her jaw set. “What is the matter with you, girl? Is this how you show gratitude to a fine gentleman who has protected you, and shown you great regard, and even saved your life on more than one occasion?”
“Marriage is not about gratitude, Mama,” Meredith said quietly. “It is about sharing a life, and providing companionship, and having children together. When, or if, I do that, it will be with a man that I love.”
“You need not concern yourself, my dear,” her father said. “I think you still young enough to begin a family.”
“I will become a grandmother.” Lavinia made it sound the same as being wrapped in a shroud.
“Be quiet, Sister,” her mother snapped before leaning closer to whisper to Meredith, “You are behaving disgracefully. Stop embarrassing us and accept your cousin's offer. Now, Meredith.”
“Calm yourself, Aunt.” Percival gave Meredith a narrow look, “I confess, I expected you would be more amenable to my proposal. Of course, you need time to think on it. I will call on you in a few days. Aunt, Uncle.” He helped his mother to her feet and guided her out of the room, his back stiff with resentment.
Meredith felt frozen, barely hearing her mother's sharp litany of outraged rebukes. Eventually her father made a disgusted sound, closed his book and walked out, leaving her alone with Lady Starling.
“Do you care nothing for me?” she finally asked her mother, stopping her in mid-tirade. “I know I have been a trial to you and Papa, but I am your daughter. Do you truly wish me to marry a man I do not love?”