Without a word, James knelt by her side. “A larger pad, I think.”
Meg understood immediately and with a few deft movements made a thick pad out of the wounded worker’s shirt, which she had already torn into strips.
“Now,” James said, “I will hold the pad in place, and you will wrap the bandage.”
They worked together in silence for a few minutes. “There,” Meg said as she tied the bandage. “I think that should slow the bleeding. We can take him to Dr. Sanderson’s in the hay wagon.”
James shook his head decisively. “It would be much quicker if I took him up on Aladdin. You can show us the way on Princess.” He swung into the saddle without waiting for a reply.
Meg’s eyes narrowed for a moment; then she nodded, “Good. Here, you men hand him up to the captain.”
It was a fifteen-minute ride to the doctor’s house and surgery. James could see that the man’s wound was still oozing blood, and his face was growing paler. When the man had been carried inside and the doctor had stitched the cut and sprinkled basillicum powder on the wound, James offered to escort Lady Margaret home.
She shook her head. “No, thank you, Captain. You’ve done more than enough. I must go and tell Tim’s wife of his injury before she hears it from one of the neighboring gossips.” She turned in the saddle and smiled. “I thank you very much for your help. I’m sure we would have succeeded, but you saved us all a great deal of time and worry.”
James bowed. “Not at all, Lady Margaret. I believe I shall have the pleasure of your company this evening?”
“Yes, indeed. Annis and I are looking forward to one of Lady Mattingly’s wonderful meals. Good afternoon, Captain.” And before James could reply, she had turned Princess toward Hedgemere.
He could only shrug. She very clearly did not want his interference, though she welcomed his assistance. Very well then. He would wait a further opportunity to put his future at risk. The odds of a positive outcome from this bustling, managing female did not seem high.
Chapter Six
Meg looked around the drawing room of Mattingly Place and smiled. For the most part, she liked her neighbors. She knew that Captain Sheridan must find them sadly narrow and provincial, as Gerald did, but Meg had no such fault to find. If they were out of the way of the latest news and on dits of the fashionable and political worlds of London, they were by and large kindly and well-intentioned.
She had learned early how necessary her neighbors were to one situated as precariously as she was. When she was sixteen and had assumed the full responsibility for Hedgemere, Meg had realized just how kind her neighbors could be. They might look askance at her situation but advice and help of every kind had been there for her, without a word of unwelcome sympathy for her plight or reproach for her father. She would be forever grateful. The frowns caused by her refusal to act the part of a demure young maiden did not bother her. Even the high sticklers had her best interests at heart.
“Good evening, Lady Margaret.” She recognized that deep voice. Turning to greet the captain, Meg smiled as she extended her hand. “You are none the worse for your experience this afternoon, I see,” he continued.
Meg bristled at his tone. “It was not the first time I have had to bind up a cut, I assure you, Captain. You need not fear that I would have swooned at the sight of blood had you not been there.”
Those bright blue eyes stared unsmilingly down at her. “Indeed, ma’am, such a thought never entered my mind. I have known from our first meeting that you were a most redoubtable female. Not one to faint at the sight of blood.”
Meg recalled her blood-spattered dress and disreputable hat. She gave a rueful laugh. “No, indeed. You must believe me to be delighted at the sight of it. Pray forgive me, Captain, and please accept my thanks for all your help this afternoon.”
“No thanks are required, my lady. I am only glad I was at hand.”
His voice hadn’t warmed up, and his craggy, tanned face was as unapproachable as a glacier. Meg sighed. “Let us not quarrel, Captain, please. Lady Mattingly is already frowning at us.”
He bowed slightly. “I have no wish to quarrel with you, Lady Margaret. I meant what I said. You are courageous and I was pleased to be able to assist you.”
“Thank you. Perhaps I take the huff more easily than I should. I am used to being thought a hoyden and worse because I am my own bailiff.”
“And your own surgeon and apothecary, too, Lady Meg.” Dr. Sanderson had come up to them unnoticed. “I have lost a good deal of business thanks to this lady, Captain.” The doctor’s smile belied his words.
“Dr. Sanderson has allowed me to be a sort of informal apprentice upon occasion,” Meg said to James. “There is too much sickness and too many accidents for him to deal with alone.”
“We tend to help each other when needed, and Lady Meg is right. There is too much work here for one physician.”
James stepped back a bit, out of the circle of their unspoken mutual esteem and concern. As always, he was a stranger, one who could never learn the casual warmth that existed between neighbors.
Meg turned to welcome Gerald, who had joined them. “I am terribly afraid that I am to take you in to dinner, Meg,” Gerald said with a grin just as his mother bustled up.
“Captain,” she said, “I have seated you at my right.” She looked at his set, disapproving face. “It is no use to frown at me. I am determined to let everyone know about your heroism. I have seated the vicar’s wife on your other side.” She patted his arm, and another smile dimpled her face. “I fear I forgot to tell you, my dear Captain, that you are the guest of honor.”
A lifetime of seeking the shadows on social occasions had not prepared James to be a guest of honor at Lady Mattingly’s dinner table. He was the cynosure of all eyes now, and the topic of most of the table’s conversation. He felt as if those eyes were flaying him alive.
Only the rigid discipline of His Majesty’s Navy got him to the table instead of up the stairs and out of sight at a gallop. Back straight, eyes determinedly meeting all those that sought his out, James got through the first few minutes the way he had his first naval engagement at the age of fourteen. He gritted it out.
To his surprise he found that the vicar’s wife had traveled in Italy as a girl. They passed a pleasant quarter hour reliving the beauties of Florence and Rome. James had visited both cities occasionally, when time and the war permitted. He felt almost relaxed, soothed by Mrs. Grandby’s kindness at calling forth some of his most cherished hours, strolling about those ancient cities, in solitude, seeking out the artistic masterpieces that his fellow officers cared nothing for.
“I went alone to the galleries and churches,” Mrs. Grandby said, “and my aunt and uncle could not for the life of them understand why one would want to look at a picture more than once.” She shook her head reminiscently. “I can see from your smile that you understand perfectly.”
Had he smiled? How very remarkable. “Yes, I understand, ma’am. My shipmates never went at all. They thought I was queer in the attic to go stand in dusty churches admiring frescoes.”
They smiled at each other, and James felt warmth steal over him. He couldn’t identify the feeling, but it had something to do with having found a kindred spirit. He was inside the circle for the first time since his half-sister Claire had held his hand and taken him in to hear the carolers in the great hall of Kettering.
“Now, Captain,” Lady Mattingly’s voice interrupted James’s thoughts. “I am going to claim your attention, and insist that you tell me every particular of Gerald’s rescue. Not one thing is to be omitted, I do not care whether it is embarrassing to you or not. I must know everything!”
James smiled back at his hostess. “Anything I can say that would increase my standing with you, my lady, be assured I will tell you.” It was almost the first time he could remember essaying even a mild joke to a lady. They had always set his teeth on edge. What might they know? What might they say? Easier to remain stiff and formal. He decided to
venture a further sally.
“Well, first of all, I leapt overboard and swam five miles out to sea, where I found Sir Gerald. I held his unconscious body aloft with one hand and swam back to the boat. The cannons were not firing quickly enough, so I picked up the cannonballs and threw them at the enormous pirate ship that threatened us. If it had not been for my exploits, I fear Sir Gerald would have had to rescue himself.”
Lady Mattingly was amused at his farrago of nonsense and placed a warm hand on his arm. “I will not ask you again, Captain. You are right. It is enough that I know what Gerald told me—that you saved his life. I cannot tell you how happy I am that you came to Hampshire, to us.”
James smiled, relieved. He hoped she wouldn’t ask again. He never got used to talking about himself. There were so many questions he didn’t want to answer. But he would have to talk to Lady Margaret. For her he would have to answer all the questions he didn’t want asked. But not yet. Tomorrow. And then he cursed himself for being a coward.
Later in the evening, after the gentlemen had joined the ladies in the drawing room, Gerald found himself talking to Annis Fairchild while the Grandbys’ eldest daughter butchered a Haydn sonata on the pianoforte.
“I begin to think that the captain will do very well here, Miss Fairchild,” Gerald said. “He seems at home in his quiet way with all of us after only this short time. Do you not think so?” He waited for her answer, for he valued her opinion, and saw with apprehension the tiny frown that marred her smooth brow.
“Yes,” she answered reluctantly. “But there is something so”—she searched for a word— “so guarded, almost secretive about him. I would like Meg to know more of his family, his background before they become formally betrothed.”
Gerald was used to keeping secrets, but keeping this one from Miss Fairchild bothered him. “I feel sure that there will be several lengthy conversations when Meg’s solicitor arrives. He is very protective of her, you know. I wouldn’t worry about any secrets.” He tried to sound positive.
If Annis noticed that he had not said the captain had no secrets he knew of, she gave no sign. Gerald was about to breathe more easily when Mrs. Headley, one of the inveterate gossips of the area, bustled over to try to worm information out of him.
How long had Sir Gerald known the captain? Had the captain really rescued him from pirates? Was it true naval prize money made him worth more than two hundred thousand pounds? Where did he come from? Who were his family? There were Sheridans everywhere, but surely it was an Irish name. Did Gerald know if the captain was Irish?
Gerald answered the questions he chose to, and avoided the others so adroitly, he was certain Mrs. Headley hardly noticed the omissions. He had been able to avoid M. Talleyrand’s most adroit gambits, and he prided himself that no one at this gathering could best him. But as he looked up and met Annis’s level gaze, he had a sinking feeling that he had not pulled one inch of wool over those clear blue eyes.
Captain James Sheridan had better not delay very much longer, or he might not be the one to reveal his status to his promised bride. And if that occurred, Gerald did not want to be around for the resulting explosion.
He looked over to the settee where Meg and his mother were talking. Their expressions were so serious, Gerald felt a slight sense of unease. His mother might be less than diplomatic, but her methods of extracting information would put Fouché, Napoleon’s master of clandestine information, to shame. He made his way by slow degrees to their sides.
As he approached. Lady Mattingly was saying, “I am so relieved to see the shadows gone from your eyes, my dear. Am I correct in thinking that something has happened recently to ease your financial situation?”
If her silence hadn’t given Meg away, the look of consternation with which she greeted Gerald would have. “I—I,” she began, but got no further.
“What is it, my dear?” said her ladyship. “You can tell me.”
“Mother, dear,” Gerald said, “perhaps Meg does not wish to tell you anything and is too polite to say so.”
Lady Mattingly headed unerringly to the salient point. “Then there is something to tell? Something you do not wish to disclose to me, dear child.”
“I believe Miss Fairchild is feeling a bit fagged,” Gerald said. “She sent me to see if you were perhaps ready to leave?”
Annis had told him no such thing. However, he knew that his mother, scenting a secret and having known and befriended Meg from her childhood, would let nothing deter her from making absolutely sure that Meg was not in need of her advice and counsel. Since his mother was always warmhearted and well-intentioned, her implacable curiosity was almost impossible to withstand.
Meg gave him a grateful smile. “Indeed I am, Gerald. I will go and get Annis, if you will summon Walter with the coach.” She rose and hurried off to find her companion.
“Nicely done, Gerald,” his mother said without the slightest hint of sarcasm. “No wonder Castlereagh found you indispensable.”
“Thank you, Mama.” Gerald inclined his head. “But I am going to be very undiplomatic to you.”
Lady Mattingly sighed. “I know, Gerald, I know. I simply must learn—”
“Not to accost your friends like a terrier scenting a rat whenever they fail to tell you what you want to know.”
“A most disagreeable image, Gerald, as I am sure you know. Meg is hardly a rat, and I am much too large and sedentary to be a terrier.”
“That is neither here nor there, Mama.” Gerald spoke sternly. The long-suffering look on his mother’s face told him that he might as well save his breath to cool his porridge, as his Scots nanny used to say. But he persisted. “If Meg has something to tell us, she will do so in her own time.”
His mother looked at him as if he were a well-loved but dull-witted little boy. “Of course Meg has something to tell us—or rather, to tell me. Something you already know. If it will make you happy, I will not ask her about it.” Her gaze flitted around the room.
“Nor are you going to try to worm information out of Miss Fairchild.”
“Yes, dear. I do hope you never spoke to the czar or any of the other allies in that tone. The Congress of Vienna would have come to a vastly different end if you had. Fortunately,” she said with a saintly smile, “a mother knows how to endure these slights.”
Her undutiful son burst into laughter. “Wonderful, Mama. You are better than a play. Unsubtle, perhaps, but very affecting.”
With complete disregard for her son’s unseemly amusement, Lady Mattingly rose as majestically as a short, plump, good-natured woman could and left him without a word.
Chapter Seven
His mouth set in a grim line, James set forth for Hedgemere. He was determined that this very morning he would reveal his past to Meg. Suddenly he was hailed by a cheerful voice. Turning, he saw it was Mrs. Headley, with two plump young ladies in sprigged muslin sitting beside her in a landau. He remembered her from last night’s dinner. The one who had asked Gerald all sorts of questions about him. Now he knew why. The two young ladies were very shy and very plain. Even a retired sea captain of no discernible distinction, he thought sardonically, would do for one of them.
“Oh, Captain Sheridan, how lucky to have run into you!” Mrs. Headley said, her face wreathed in a smile. “These are my daughters, Susan and Mellicent. We are planning a little dance—nothing formal, mind, since Sukie and Mellie are not out yet—this Saturday evening. I have only just come from Mattingly Place. Lady Mattingly assured me that I might expect all three of you. The girls were so disappointed that they were not included in last night’s festivities, I could not deny them a treat.” She looked at him hopefully.
James could only be grateful mat he had headed for the stable before the Headley ladies had arrived at the Mattinglys’. He bowed while his heart quailed within him at the mere idea of being considered an eligible parti. The sooner he could become publicly affianced to Lady Meg, the better. She, at least, had no romantic notions about sea captains and
their fortunes.
At last he said, “I shall be delighted to attend, of course.”
Mrs. Headley smiled yet again and told the coachman to proceed. Her daughters had turned alternately white and red and had said not a word after mumbling a polite greeting. James had no choice but to continue to jog along at the side of their carriage. Mrs. Headley turned to speak to him once again. This time he thought her smile was a little sly.
“So, Captain, you are on your way to Hedgemere, as we are?”
“Yes. I am thinking of purchasing a property now that I am retired. Lady Margaret seems very knowledgeable, and Hedgemere is a property of the size I am considering.” James knew that he sounded stiff and pompous. He always did when he was caught unawares.
Childhood loneliness had fostered shyness, and early command had added the tone of chilly aloofness. He tried from time to time to adopt a friendlier tone, but it seldom answered. Today, faced with Mrs. Headley and her two daughters, he had all he could do not to bolt.
“Yes, she is a most knowledgeable landowner, I will give her that.” Mrs. Headley shook her head. “A very strange upbringing she’s had—what there’s been of it. More often left to her own devices by that governess of hers. No wonder Lady Margaret is as independent and outspoken as she is. Who was there to teach her how to go on?”
James longed to tell the woman that Lady Meg was twice the woman with four times the charm of both the Headley girls combined! How dare Mrs. Headley find fault with her? Shouldn’t she rather be helping Meg, if indeed she needed any lessons in how to go on in society! If her own daughters were anything to judge by, Mrs. Headley didn’t have much of use to say on the subject!
Though he of course kept his thoughts to himself, James’s frown must have communicated his lack of sympathy with her strictures, for Mrs. Headley tried an ingratiating laugh and said, “But I can see that you’re already enlisted in the ranks of her friends and admirers. Most of the men seem to be. Oh, not that she flirts or anything of the kind!”
Martha Schroeder Page 5