The Heart That Hides (Regency Spies Book 2)

by April Munday

  “Everyone else is gone,” he said, as he stepped up behind her.

  “Good.”

  Sophia turned, put her arms round his neck and kissed him.

  This was not the approach Finch was expecting, but he made use of it. Pulling her tight against him, he pressed his mouth against hers. Shock stiffened her body, then pleasure melted it. Finch eased her into a more comfortable position and heard the small sound of satisfaction that she made in her throat.

  Part of him was angry that Sophia had put herself in such a dangerous position. She couldn’t know that he wouldn’t take advantage of her; she could only hope, unless her aim was to trap him into marriage. A kiss was dangerous enough as far as that was concerned, although he doubted that this was her intention.

  Finally he released her.

  “Look at me, Sophia,” he said.

  Slowly she opened her eyes. The small smile on her lips disappeared.

  “You don’t even desire me,” she said flatly and Finch could almost feel the heat of her embarrassment.

  “No, and you are fortunate that I don’t, or I might have ruined you. Please promise that you will never do anything so stupid again.”

  She would have turned away, but he caught her arm and held it.

  “You must think I’m a foolish girl.”

  “No, I think you’re an intelligent, witty charming, graceful, brave and resourceful young woman.”

  Sophia shook her head in disbelief. He could see that her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

  “Have I forfeited your friendship?”

  “No.”

  Finch’s voice was louder than he had intended. This was the last thing he wanted.

  “Thank you.”

  Sophia’s voice was quiet. Finch let go of her arm and was reassured when she didn’t run.

  “Please promise me you won’t do something like this again.”

  “I didn’t mean to compromise you.”

  “I know. But, Sophia, had I given in to the temptation I would have married you and...”

  Sophia interrupted him, “It would not have been the marriage that I wanted. My only wish was to see you look at me the way you look at her.”

  “You will be better off with my friendship,” said Finch gently.

  “I would be better off with both. She might not let you be my friend.”

  This last was an anguished cry.

  “I don’t think the woman exists who can dictate who my friends are.”

  “She might make it impossible for you to have women friends.”

  “Would she keep you away?” wondered Finch aloud. He had not missed Louise’s antipathy towards Sophia.

  “Not if you were still able to enjoy my company.”

  Emily had not played such games. She had known that there was no need. His love for her was deep and uncomplicated; there had not been room for anyone else in his heart. Beautiful though she had been, he had loved her, not her looks, and she had known it.

  “She won’t be beautiful for ever,” said Sophia, as if catching the end of his thought. “And I’m not sure there’s much more to her than that.

  “I’m certain that there is.”

  Finch wasn’t defensive; he knew there was something behind the beauty, he just wasn’t sure what it was or whether it would be enough.

  “There’s something about her that I find... disturbing.”

  Finch hesitated, then gave her comment some real thought. Sophia said nothing and he appreciated her restraint. Fleetingly, he wished he could love her, for they would suit one another well. Sophia was right; there was something disturbing about Louise. He was certain that she was possessed of a fierce intelligence, but only in a small number of strangely diverse areas.

  “She’s beautiful,” he said, knowing it didn’t answer her unspoken question.

  “That’s not enough for you, I know it.”

  Finch smiled. She was right, but he didn’t have to admit it.

  “Come, Sophia, it’s time for you to leave.”

  “Very well.”

  She took his arm and they started back towards the house.

  “Friendship works both ways, Edmund,” she said quietly as they went through the door. “You may call for me if you have need of me.”

  Chapter Three

  Finch was surprised when Lord and Lady Meldon were announced early one afternoon two weeks later. There had been no letter to let him know that they were coming to London. Lady Meldon had written only the week before and there had been no mention that they were thinking of taking up residence in Meldon House. It was true that, before his marriage, Meldon had been able to move around the country or even the Continent at a moment’s notice, but he would surely not expect his wife to do the same. Finch wondered what had brought them here, but his first sight of Lady Meldon drove all questions from his mind.

  “I see that congratulations are in order,” he said by way of greeting.

  Lady Meldon’s smile was broad, Meldon’s more guarded and Finch remembered that there had been many miscarriages and stillbirths between Lady Caroline’s birth and his. As both men knew only too well, not every pregnancy ended with a healthy baby and a happy mother.

  “Thank you,” said Meldon. “I was writing to tell you when I received Caro’s letter… We will talk of that later. First things first. I have brought some presents for my godson.”

  Finch asked for Freddie to be brought down. Meldon was an indulgent honorary godfather and Freddie adored him.

  “You are looking well, considering,” said Meldon.

  “The effects of my exhaustion have been exaggerated.”

  Finch had not shared with his friend all the details of what had happened for fear that he would either leave his wife alone and come to London or bring her away from the joy she had found in Hampshire in order to take care of him.

  “Caro said she was thinking of moving in, to nurse you. She was the only source of news, since you are an indifferent correspondent at best.”

  “Lady Caroline is far too careful of her reputation and mine to have thought such a thing.”

  Finch joked, but it was another reminder of how much he had disturbed someone who was dear to him. The only thing that had kept Lady Caroline from visiting him every day when he had first returned was the knowledge that it tired him too much. She had, however, occupied herself with Freddie and Finch was grateful.

  “Her first letter after your return from Ireland almost brought us back to London,” said Lady Meldon. Unlike her husband, Lady Meldon was unaware of his less public activities and had no reason to suspect he had gone abroad for any other reason than to learn more about glass.

  “As you can see, I am well enough.”

  Neither of them believed him, but it was the truth.

  The peace of this house had been good for him. He had socialised little and even Louise had been sympathetic to his need to return home at an early hour and to visit less than she, or he, would wish, for they had met often since the dinner party.

  “Your own letters were far from communicative,” complained Meldon. “And there were few enough of them.”

  It was an old and frequent argument. Meldon could cover two pages of foolscap describing one of his sheep; Finch could describe the events of a fortnight on one. Those parts of Meldon’s letters complaining about the length of Finch’s were longer than the letters that were their subject.

  “I barely left the house for a month. There was very little to communicate.”

  “Then we should have come,” said Lady Meldon, “for you must have been very ill.”

  “It was exhaustion, my lady. I just needed rest.”

  He did not add that he still needed it, for it would not be long before she noticed; she was very perceptive.

  “There was a time when you called me Lady Anna.”

  Freddie’s arrival precluded any further discussion of the matter. The news of his godfather’s arrival had put Freddie into a state of great exciteme
nt and he was about to throw himself at Meldon and had already shouted “Uncle George!” when he caught sight of Lady Meldon. He stopped moving immediately. Then he glanced at his father and walked towards Meldon and bowed. With a serious expression, Meldon returned the bow. Then he lifted the boy and swung him above his head, dropping his cane on the floor to do so.

  Finch stepped forward to pick up the cane, then, as Freddie started to scream with delight, sent the footman for tea. Once Freddie had been lowered to the ground, Meldon introduced him to his wife with the instruction that she should be called Aunt Anna. Finch had expected Freddie to fall in love with Lady Anna immediately, for she was young, beautiful and charming and Freddie was an open-hearted boy. Instead he reached shyly for his father’s hand and looked away from her. Finch made the introduction again and Freddie bowed to Lady Anna, but refused to acknowledge her presence thereafter.

  “Come and see what we’ve brought for you,” said Meldon awkwardly, for he expected everyone to love his wife as he did.

  The presents were given and admired and Freddie’s thanks were polite, but quiet, and he returned shortly to the nursery.

  “I’m sorry,” said Finch to Lady Anna. “He’s usually more friendly.”

  “He doesn’t see enough women,” said Meldon. “I think Caro is the only woman he knows.”

  “He sees my brothers’ wives and your niece.”

  “Rarely.”

  Finch hoped this conversation wasn’t going to end with his friend pressing him to marry.

  “He needs a governess,” said Meldon.

  “A governess! He’s a boy, he needs a tutor.”

  Finch was outraged by the suggestion.

  “He needs a woman.”

  “He has Nurse Adams.”

  “A lovely woman who has done well by him, but he needs a woman who can teach him how to behave in society.”

  “A tutor can do that and be a friend when he’s older.”

  “That didn’t turn out very well for either of us,” Meldon reminded him with some bitterness. “If you’re not going to marry...”

  “George!” Lady Anna placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “Forgive him, Mr Finch. Sometimes he forgets that even friendships as close as yours have boundaries.”

  “True friendship has no boundaries,” said Finch, seeing Meldon nod his head in agreement. “Meldon can say what he wants to me and I won’t mind. His sister expressed the same sentiment only last month.”

  “She won’t give up, you know. She wouldn’t with me. She practically threw Anna at me.”

  Lady Anna stroked her husband’s arm gently. Finch was almost overwhelmed by a pain he thought he had managed to suppress. It had been easy enough to dismiss his own need for female companionship and love while Meldon had been a bachelor, but now that he was married, Finch knew that there would be constant reminders of what he lacked. Thank God for Lady Louise.

  “I’m sure Lady Caroline won’t give up.” He hoped his voice sounded steadier than it seemed to him. “Even though she disapproves of Lady Louise.”

  The Meldons exchanged glances.

  “Lady Louise?” asked Meldon.

  “I’m surprised your sister didn’t tell you about her.” Finch paused. They would have seen Lady Caroline before they came to him. If they had not discussed Louise, something must have happened to the Warrens. “Tell me why you’ve come to London.”

  Meldon brought his fist down on the arm of his chair with such force that Finch thought it would break.

  “John, my nephew John, has left Oxford and joined the army.”

  Meldon’s anger and disappointment were clear.

  “Following your bad example,” said Finch, recalling Meldon’s sudden departure to join the army when he was younger than his nephew was now.

  “That’s not funny,” shouted Meldon. “Oxford couldn’t teach me anything about managing my estates. And I joined as an officer.”

  “He’s a private soldier?”

  This news seemed somehow worse than the first. John could not be a private soldier; he would find it unbearable. The Warrens had not spoiled their children, but John was used to a more comfortable life than the private soldiers in whose company he now lived.

  “Caro’s beside herself. What was he thinking? He’s always been such a considerate boy. He’s supposed be a diplomat.”

  “I doubt he’s done it to spite any of you.”

  “Of course not, but why?”

  Finch smiled. His friend did not lack imagination, except where those he loved were concerned.

  “What does he say?”

  “That it’s time for him to grow up and be a man.”

  Meldon’s disgust at such an idea was clear.

  “Why did you join the army so suddenly?”

  Despite their close friendship, Meldon had never told him and it had almost caused a rift between them. Finch had had to assume that his friend had done something dishonourable, which was unlike him. Since Non-conformists were not permitted to attend university, Finch had not been there to watch over his younger friend and he had always thought that Meldon must have done something terrible and run away from it. Even in those days Meldon’s quiet reserve had hidden a very passionate nature.

  “None of your damn business.” Meldon took a deep breath and began a close inspection of his gloved hand. When he spoke again he wasn’t looking at Finch and his voice was no more than a whisper. “One of the fellows in my college thought I’d been dallying with his mistress. I hadn’t, but he called me out. I refused to fight him. It would have been murder; he barely knew how to hold a sword and I, well, you know how good I am and was with a sword.”

  Finch did know. It had been the subject of many discussions as to which of them would win a duel between the two of them. They had practised together and Finch thought that he was just fast enough to beat Meldon, but he wasn’t sure. Finch hoped they wouldn’t have to resolve the question in a duel over John and Sophia and his own relationship with the latter.

  Meldon continued, “He called me a coward and soon it was everywhere I went. It would have been simpler to have accepted his challenge, but I just joined the army earlier than intended. It was months before I realised that he had known I would not accept his challenge.”

  “Does he still live?”

  Finch thought he knew the answer, but guessed that Lady Anna might not.

  Meldon’s smile was humourless.

  “After I got back from Spain I accepted his challenge, although he had lost all enthusiasm for it. We were equal then. I could barely walk and he hardly knew which end of a sword was which. It cost me a month’s worth of healing, but no, he no longer lives.”

  “Please promise not to be quite so exacting on the person who upset your nephew.”

  Meldon took matters of honour very seriously.

  “You know who it is?”

  “I observe, as you used to do. I believe the young lady turned him down.”

  “Oh.”

  “Indeed.”

  “That’s her prerogative of course, but what’s wrong with him?”

  “Nothing, except that he asked at the wrong time and in the wrong way. It can’t be so hard for you to put yourself in his place.”

  This last was cruel, for Meldon had thought that Lady Anna would not accept him if he asked. He had despaired of ever winning her hand. John, however, had, according to Sophia, been overly confident. She had come to visit Finch the morning after John had proposed. Finch had not expected her to call on their friendship quite so soon, but John’s behaviour at supper had warned him that the young man might be about to do something rash. Sophia had not cried, but it was obvious that she had been crying before she came. Although Finch had known that John and Sophia had known one another since they were young children, he had not appreciated the depth of their friendship. Sophia mourned the loss of that friendship and Finch saw that she didn’t understand her own heart. He also began to see that his own part in this was greater than he h
ad assumed at first.

  “So he’s given up and gone off to get himself killed,” said Meldon, hitting the arm of the chair once more.

  “George, don’t.”

  Lady Anna placed a hand on his arm again. Distractedly, Meldon patted it. He looked wretched. Of the three of them only Meldon had experienced battle and knew what was coming for John. This was something else of which he had never really spoken, but Finch had seen the change in him when he had returned from war with his leg so damaged that he would never walk without a limp again. It was something else they didn’t share.

  “Perhaps she’ll relent when she knows what he’s done,” he said, half-heartedly, for it would take Sophia time to understand her real feelings for John.

  “Then they would both be miserable,” said Lady Anna, who had herself contemplated marriage to a man she hadn’t loved.

  “I’m going to go and bring him back. I’d like you to keep an eye on Anna whilst I’m gone.”

  Finch glanced at Lady Anna and saw that she disapproved of this plan.

  “Of course,” he said. “Shall you be gone long?”

  “No more than two weeks. He’s stubborn, so it will take a while to talk him round. Do you know the woman? Might she be induced to write to him?”

  Finch thought for a moment.

  “I do and she might, but I shall be the one to ask her.”

  “You wish her to remain anonymous. I appreciate your discretion, but John will tell me who she is.”

  “I doubt it, he loves her.”

  “Is she worthy of his love?” Meldon’s question wasn’t motivated by pride, but by love for his nephew.

  “Yes.” Finch didn’t hesitate. He didn’t add that he also believed John to be worthy of Sophia’s love, despite his stupidity in running away; Meldon would be insulted. “She is a fine young woman. They’re well-suited.”

  He hadn’t really thought of this before, since he had been occupied with keeping a distance between himself and Sophia, but now he saw, too late, that he might have helped them more. Finch thought that he should have taken more of an interest in the boy for his mother’s sake.