Anne smiled at the little girl. ‘Hallo, Tildy. Are you enjoying yourself?’
‘Oh, yes. I am going in one of the races later and Tom is going to bowl for the pig.’
‘Then I hope you both win.’
‘Will you come and watch?’
‘I have to stay here and take the people’s money.’
‘Can’t someone else do it for you?’
‘Yes, Miss Hemingford,’ Justin said with a smile. She was in pale green gingham today, which seemed to heighten the colour of her chestnut hair and amber eyes; she was vibrantly alive. ‘Do shut up shop for a while. I do not think there will be many more coming. It is nearly time for the opening ceremony.’
Everyone was congregating at the end of the field where a platform had been erected and on which were gathered the town dignitaries, Lord and Lady Mancroft, Major Mancroft and Captain Gosforth. ‘You should be with them,’ he murmured, watching as she closed and locked the money box and handed it to the sergeant whom Major Mancroft had detailed to guard her while she had it in her possession. Pickpockets and thieves would view the occasion as a gift from heaven and no one doubted they would take full advantage of it. The sergeant and another soldier, both big strong men, would see off anyone attempting to steal it. ‘Without you, there would have been no hospital project.’
‘Oh, I have no desire to be in the limelight, Doctor,’ she said, retying the green ribbon that secured her straw bonnet. ‘But you should be there. Do not let them crowd you out.’
‘Like you, I would rather work behind the scenes, Miss Hemingford.’
He offered her his arm. She put one hand upon the sleeve of his dove-grey frockcoat and was surprised and pleased when Tildy slipped a small grubby hand into hers on the other side and together they made their way towards the platform to stand at the back and listen to the speeches. There were cheers from the crowd when Justin’s name was mentioned as the doctor whose work with the poor had inspired the project.
‘It is very unfair,’ Anne said, when the speeches had ended and Lady Mancroft had declared the event officially open. ‘No one said a word about you running the hospital when it is ready…’
‘Does it matter who runs it as long as it comes to fruition?’ he queried. ‘I am not indispensable.’
‘Oh.’ She was reminded of Mrs Tremayne’s contention that he would not see it out and wondered if the woman had been right all along. Was he already losing interest?
She had no time to ask him because her aunt was bearing down on them, with Major Mancroft and Captain Gosforth in tow. ‘Come, Anne, I need your help in the refreshment tent,’ she said. And to Tildy, with a look of revulsion, ‘Run along, child. Find your mama.’
‘But you promised…’ the little one appealed to Anne.
‘So I did and I will not break it.’ She turned to her aunt. ‘I promised Tildy I would see her run in her race. Can you not spare me a little longer?’
‘Oh, very well. I will ask Mrs Barry to help me. No doubt the lieutenants will be glad to lose her for a while.’
The Major laughed. ‘I am sure you have the right of it, ma’am, but it is understandable that she would be concerned for her daughters after what happened to Miss Jeanette. I would help you myself, but I have other duties. If you will excuse me.’ He seized the lady’s hand and kissed the back of it before striding away.
‘And I must go too, dear lady,’ Walter said, doing the same, leaving Justin and Anne laughing.
‘Oh, dear, they are fighting for her hand and she does not even know it,’ Anne said, as they wandered among the crowds. ‘She pretends she is promoting my prospects…’
‘Perhaps she is.’
‘No, she is mistaken. I am not looking for a husband.’
‘I am surprised to hear you say that. Doesn’t every young girl hope to be married?’
‘I am not every young girl as you well know, Dr Tremayne. I am a mature woman of seven-and-twenty and I prefer my single state. There! Are you surprised by that?’
‘Yes and no.’ She was too self-assured to be a giddy schoolgirl. She did not giggle, did not flinch at his touch as a seventeen-year-old might, but her looks did not betray her age; she was still very beautiful with a flawless complexion and a slim figure. But he knew, to his cost, that was not enough. If Sophie was anything to go by, there could be venom behind loveliness. And why would she be so against being wed? She was not frigid, he could tell that from her response when he kissed her, so was she more experienced than he had at first thought? The idea of that both repelled and excited him.
‘An enigmatic answer. Tell me what you mean.’
‘I cannot say that I know what I mean,’ he said carefully. ‘Seven-and-twenty is no great age and it gives you a certain poise when dealing with people, be they high or low, and a measure of independence, which you undoubtedly exploit to the full, but you are certainly not at your last prayers.’
‘You do not think so?’
‘I know it. I am surprised neither of those two gentlemen has offered for you.’
‘They are intent on my aunt, who is a dear lady and should not have to spend the rest of her life in lonely widow’s weeds. The gentlemen concerned are very perspicacious. They have been bowled over by her and I think it is touching.’
‘Listening to you, anyone would think she was the young débutante and you were the aunt.’
Anne laughed. ‘There are not so many years between us and she is young in spirit, do you not think? I love her dearly.’
‘I envy her,’ he murmured, so softly, she thought she had misheard him. ‘To be loved by you must be a pleasurable condition to be in.’
‘Doctor Tremayne, you are putting me to the blush.’
‘What! A mature lady of seven-and-twenty blushing? I do not believe it.’ But he did, because her cheeks were fiery and he regretted teasing her.
‘I wish I had not told you now.’
‘Your secret is safe with me.’
‘It is not a secret. Anyone with any intelligence would soon be able to discover my age; after all, I am my brother’s twin as anyone in society could soon tell you, but that does not mean I should like my age bandied about among the gossips.’
‘I am perfectly able to keep my tongue between my teeth, Miss Hemingford.’
‘Secrets!’ she exclaimed suddenly. ‘How I hate secrets.’
‘Sometimes they are necessary to avoid hurting other people.’
‘I understand that, but surely if one found someone in whom one wanted to confide…’
‘That, Miss Hemingford, would be different.’
Tildy was pulling on her hand in her excitement and could not be ignored. Anne turned to smile at her. ‘What is it, Tildy?’
‘There’s Ma and Tom. Let’s go over to them.’
Anne allowed herself to be led towards Mrs Smith, who was watching her son bowling at a row of skittles. Justin followed, but the moment of intimacy had gone and she wondered if she would ever learn his secret. She wanted him to tell her without having to quiz him directly, which she knew instinctively he would resent, yet though the opportunity had been there, he had not taken it.
‘Good afternoon, miss.’ Mrs Smith gave her a little curtsy.
Anne returned her greeting with a smile. ‘The day looks to be a great success. The money is pouring in.’
‘I wish I could help,’ the woman said. ‘But…’ She shrugged.
‘But you have helped. You paid your entrance fee and I do believe Tom has paid for several tries at the skittles.’
‘It is so little.’
‘Ah, but every little helps. Remember the parable of the widow’s mite? It all adds up.’
‘If I cannot give money, I can give my time, Miss Hemingford. I believe the house needs cleaning…’
‘So it does. If you are offering to help, then I am sure everyone will be most grateful. Is that not so, Doctor?’
‘Yes, of course,’ he agreed. ‘But only if you can spare the time. You have a home
and family to look after and they must come first.’
Tom gave a shout of triumph as he managed to send all the skittles flying and the booth holder offered him the choice of a spotted neckerchief or a small wooden doll. He took the doll and handed it to Tildy, who squeaked with delight.
Anne and Justin left them enjoying the win and strolled on. ‘The hospital will be for them and people like them,’ he said. ‘They should not be denied medical help simply because they are poor.’
‘But you do mean to stay and see it to fruition?’
‘Of course. Did you doubt it?’
‘Mrs Tremayne…’ she began and stopped.
‘She does not know me as well as she thinks she does,’ he said. ‘Pay her no heed.’
Her head was full of questions. Why was his sister-in-law so determined to undermine him? Had he really broken an engagement? Had he loved the woman, whoever she was? Did he still love her? Could it be Mrs Tremayne herself? The thought shocked her. The woman was his brother’s wife; if he went off with her, it would cause a scandal of monumental proportions. He would be banished from society and would have to live in obscurity. But was he not doing that already until she had dragged him out of it over this hospital idea? What had she done to him?
She did not voice any of her questions, not only because she feared a rebuff, but because they had reached a large open area which had been roped off for a curricle race and Mrs Tremayne was there, standing beside a curricle in which Captain Smollett, resplendent in his blue and gold uniform, was sitting with the reins in his hand. The young horse was skittish and it was taking considerable skill to hold him in check at the starting line.
Anne felt Justin stiffen beside her and risked a glance up at his face. His jaw was rigid and his eyes held that hard, glittering look she had seen in them when she first met him. Whatever had happened between him and his sister-in-law, the sight of her still had a very powerful effect on him
‘Justin,’ Mrs Tremayne called out to him. ‘Where have you been? You promised to be my escort today.’
‘I have been otherwise engaged,’ he said.
‘So I see.’ She looked Anne up and down with ill-disguised contempt and only the pressure of Anne’s hand on his arm prevented Justin responding. ‘But no matter, Captain Smollett has been so kind as to escort me.’
She turned to look up at the Captain and whispered something that made him laugh and then she stood back as the three curricles in the first heat moved to the start line. The starter lowered his flag and they were off, rushing down the course wheel to wheel. It was a rectangular course with obstacles set at the corners round which they were obliged to go to prevent anyone from taking a short cut.
As they thundered past Anne found herself remembering her first day in Brighton. She saw again the flying curricle and the officer driving it as it almost ran Tildy down and she knew with certainty that she was looking at the same vehicle and the same man. That was why she thought she had seen Captain Smollett before. She had.
‘Captain Smollett is the man who ran Tildy down,’ she said quietly, setting aside her fury at Mrs Tremayne’s insult and the doubts the woman had put in her mind about Justin promising to escort her. Such things could wait for a more propitious time. ‘I did not realise it until now when I saw him driving his curricle. He was the one.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘What do you want to do about it?’
‘Tell Major Mancroft. He said if he knew who the man was he would see him punished.’
‘What will that achieve?’
‘It will stop him and others like him driving through the streets as if they were a race track. It will stop children like Tildy being killed.’
The heat ended with Smollett the winner by a carriage length, which meant he would go forward to the next round. While the vehicles for the next heat were lined up, Anne hurried across to where Major Mancroft stood, together with Mrs Tremayne, congratulating his fellow officer. The skittish pony was being rubbed down by a soldier groom.
‘Major Mancroft, a word, if you please,’ she said.
He excused himself and turned towards her. ‘Miss Hemingford, what can I do for you?’
‘You can punish that man.’ She pointed to Captain Smollett. ‘He is the one who ran the little girl down and left her for dead.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I will swear to it. You told me there were rules about not racing in the streets, I want them enforced.’
‘I did that as soon as you told me about it, but no one admitted to doing such a thing.’
‘They would not, would they?’
‘I say, Charles, you are not going to take the word of that filly against me, are you?’ Smollett was smiling easily, sure of himself, but he could not have said anything more calculated to raise the Major’s ire.
‘You will apologise to Miss Hemingford for that remark,’ he said coldly.
The Captain looked taken aback and then he laughed. ‘Oh, I see the way the wind is blowing, but you should not let your personal feelings cloud your judgement. The accusations of a demi-rep will never stand against the word of a gentleman.’
Justin sprang forward, his fists raised, but Anne tugged on his arm. ‘He is not worth it.’
The Major took a step forward too, but, knowing he could not strike a junior officer, he stayed his hand. ‘Captain Smollett, Miss Hemingford is a lady of rank, the sister of the Earl of Bostock, and you will offer your apology at once…’
Anne heard Mrs Tremayne’s sharp intake of breath and then a tinkling, embarrassed laugh, but she did not turn towards her. She remained resolutely facing Captain Smollett. He could do nothing but make the apology, though he did it with an ill grace. ‘That is not enough,’ she said calmly. ‘I want recompense, not for me, but for that little girl. You left her lying unconscious in the road…’
‘I did not know I had hit anyone.’
‘That is no excuse. You were driving recklessly. I was witness to it.’
‘Pay up, man, and look good about it,’ the Major said.
‘I don’t want him to pay me,’ she said, then turned to Justin. ‘Will you fetch Mrs Smith and Tildy? This calls for a personal apology…’
The doctor hurried away, while the protagonists stood facing each other without speaking. Anne hoped no one would see how much she was shaking. The Major, determined to keep his word to Anne, delayed the start of the next heat until the Captain had been dealt with. Time seemed to stand still, although the chattering and laughing of the crowd, the calling of the vendors from their booths, and the neighing of impatient horses, all the sounds of the success of the day still went on around them.
Justin returned, accompanied by Mrs Smith and Tildy, still clutching her new doll. Anne bent to put her arm across the child’s shoulder. ‘Tildy, this is the man who ran you down when you went to see the monster…’
‘She ran into the road,’ Smollett said. ‘Didn’t even look where she was going.’
‘I thought you said you did not see her,’ Anne said.
‘Well, she must have done. How else could she have been hit?’
‘Your curricle went on to the walkway, I saw it myself. You were going too fast. Tildy could have been killed. You must tell her you are sorry…’
‘Oh, Miss Hemingford, we don’t want to make a fuss,’ Mrs Smith said.
Justin touched the woman’s arm. ‘Leave it to Miss Hemingford,’ he said quietly. ‘Do not give the man a chance to wriggle out of it.’
She lapsed into silence as did everyone else. What Anne was asking was unheard of. For an officer in the Regent’s own regiment, used to lording it over everyone not his senior, to be forced to make an apology to a peasant child was asking too much and the bystanders were agog to see what he would do.
‘I am waiting,’ Anne said imperiously. ‘Do as I ask or I will personally put your conduct before the Regent. And do not think I cannot.’
‘She can,’ the Major
assured him.
With a very red face, the Captain took a step towards the child. Tildy cringed a little as he loomed over her, but Anne held her steady. ‘If I knocked you down, then I am sorry for it,’ he said with an ill grace. ‘No harm done, I trust.’
‘She has recovered,’ Anne said. ‘But she still bears the scars and they are worth a hundred guineas of your money.’
There was a concerted gasp at the amount she suggested. What would a child of her class do with a hundred guineas? It was outlandish to suggest it. ‘It is too much,’ he said.
‘Would it still have been too much had you killed her?’
‘But I didn’t.’
‘How fortunate, or you would be looking at a charge of murder.’
He went from turkey-cock red to pale as a sheet in a few seconds. ‘Oh, very well, have it your own way. But I do not carry that amount on me.’
‘We will wait while you fetch it,’ Major Mancroft said.
‘But I am in the next heat.’
‘You have been disqualified.’
He continued to bluster, but, knowing he was beaten, went to obey. The Major strode over to set off the curricles in the next heat and the little crowd began to disperse. All except the little group involved. And Mrs Tremayne.
‘I hope you are satisfied,’ she hissed at Anne. ‘You have brought a good man down. If you had not been who you are, he would not have succumbed. It was a barbarous way to treat an officer and a gentleman.’
Anne ignored her and turned to speak to Mrs Smith, who was shaking with nerves. ‘I know you meant it for the best, Miss Hemingford,’ she said. ‘But I didn’t want a fuss and perhaps it was Tildy’s fault…’
‘No, it was not. I saw it and the Captain as good as admitted it, so think no more about it. Think instead of what you will do with the money…’
‘Oh, that’s easy, miss, I’ll give it to the doctor’s hospital.’
‘That is more than generous of you, but surely there is something you want?’
‘I have all I want. A good husband, a home…’
Marrying Miss Hemingford Page 19