The Heart That Hides (Regency Spies Book 2)

by April Munday

  They sat in silence. Finch had sworn that he would never remind his friend of that terrible day when it had seemed to Meldon that the woman he loved might be engaged to two different men, one a traitor and the other his best friend. Now Finch was uncomfortable at the memory of the meeting that afternoon when Meldon had sworn at him and challenged him to a duel. Finch was not quite sure whether Meldon had chosen not to discuss that afternoon or whether he had simply forgotten everything thanks to his inebriation. Neither of them had mentioned the duel again.

  Meldon laughed.

  “Imagine what I’d be without your good influence.”

  Finch stretched his right arm, as he had had to do so many times that morning. It had borne the brunt of his abuse and was getting its revenge. That, in turn, irritated the wound on his neck and he grimaced in pain. Unable to get to it easily himself, he had had to ask Mary to examine it and redress it this morning, unwilling though he was to remind her that he’d spent the evening with a woman capable of doing such a thing and then come home and fallen asleep on his son’s governess.

  Mary had been gracious, but quiet. He thought he must have slept better than she had, for she was slightly red-eyed, as if she had been awake for most of the night.

  He had considered apologising again, for she was a gentlewoman living in his house, protected only by his reputation, but she seemed so preoccupied with her own thoughts that he decided to speak to her later.

  He regretted that decision as soon as he left her. It was unlike him not to deal with a problem straightaway, even if it was difficult or caused him embarrassment. Resolving to take it up with her when they were alone later in the day, he turned his attention back to Meldon.

  “I take it you had a purpose in coming here other than to insult me.”

  “But insulting you is so much fun.”

  Meldon didn’t smile, which irritated Finch. He knew no one with better control of his features than Meldon. It was one of the things that made him a dangerous opponent in a card game.

  “Then I have work to do, if you’ll excuse me.”

  Finch rose, but Meldon stayed put in his chair, pulling off his gloves to admire his beautiful fingers. In the years since Finch’s own fingers had been broken when he had been tortured, he had never been jealous of his friend’s hands until today. Recently he had been thinking of his hand less as an imperfection than as an impairment. Louise still rejected his attempts to touch her with it. With an effort he pulled himself back to the conversation. Meldon had placed his gloves on the small table beside him.

  “I take it you are performing an errand for Lady Anna, otherwise she would be here as well.”

  Meldon laughed.

  “That’s why insulting you is such a pleasure. You always get your own back.”

  “Usually by mistake,” said Finch, drily. He hadn’t expected his lazy barb to hit home quite so accurately.

  “She told me I had thought about it too much and that direct action was required.”

  “Direct action?”

  “Lady Louise. We don’t know her, so we can't invite her to our ball.”

  “And Lady Anna suggested...?”

  “That you invite all of us here to dine.”

  “You already have the invitation, Meldon,” said Finch lazily. “I sent it round last week. You’ve accepted.”

  “That invitation was for a private meal.”

  “With Louise, the four of us.”

  “Oh.”

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  “What’s she like?”

  “I’m sure Lady Caroline has given you plenty of information.”

  Meldon cleared his throat awkwardly.

  “John has given me more.”

  Finch smiled. John had been too taken up with Sophia to notice anything else, but Meldon seemed to think he knew something.

  “Then you know that she is extremely attractive, dances like a dream and has a laugh like liquid silver.”

  Meldon brought his fist down on the arm of his chair.

  “Don’t be obtuse.”

  Finch laughed.

  “You will know soon enough.”

  “What of her character?”

  “I can find nothing wrong with it.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  There was a knock on the door and Finch was oddly relieved that he didn’t have to answer Meldon’s question just yet.

  The door opened and Mary entered. She sank into a graceful curtsy. Meldon and Finch stood.

  “Lord Meldon, allow me to introduce you to Miss Wilding, Freddie’s governess.”

  Meldon bowed.

  “Miss Wilding.”

  “I am sorry to disturb you, Mr Finch, but we’ve just returned from our walk and Freddie was told that Lord Meldon was here.”

  “Lord and Lady Meldon are dining with us.” He saw Meldon nod acquiescence from the corner of his eye. “You may tell Freddie that he can return to his lessons and join us for dinner.”

  “I shall do so. Thank you.”

  She turned to leave.

  “And, Miss Wilding...”

  “Yes, Mr Finch.”

  “This will not change our usual arrangements. You are to dine with us, unless you wish not to.”

  Mary nodded and left them.

  “Freddie worships the ground she walks on,” said Finch when she was gone.

  “And you?”

  “I hold her in the greatest esteem. She has a gift for teaching. She seems to know exactly what Freddie needs to improve socially and I believe he is already less shy. She is firm and steadfast and his character improves under her guidance. Her interests are broad and her intelligence great. She is always calm and has a strength of character I’ve seen in few women other than your sister.” Finch thought briefly of the sight of her in his library the night before and put it away from him. “She has shown herself to be trustworthy and reliable. Yet she has a sense of humour and allows Freddie, and me, to play.”

  “Make sure my godson isn’t too perfect by the time the two of you have finished with him,” said Meldon drily. “I’m glad her character is to your liking. I have heard some unpleasant rumours about her.”

  Finch clenched his fist. “Doubtless from her previous employer.”

  “Doubtless. Holden wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I heard from Caro that he’s in financial difficulty. Had you heard anything about it?”

  “I’m surprised Lady Caroline repeats such gossip.”

  “She is as struck by Miss Wilding’s character as you are and has taken it upon herself to counter the rumours against her. That’s how she heard about Holden.” He paused. “Finch, have you ruined him?”

  Finch didn’t even think about lying to him.

  “Not entirely. There’s enough left for the children, if the parents are careful.”

  “You do still remember the first time you defended someone who couldn’t defend themselves, don’t you? Did you learn nothing?”

  Meldon’s exasperation was clear.

  “Of course I remember. Your first day at school. We were both beaten senseless. I learned then that the stronger and better prepared opponent gets to walk away from the fight.”

  For a moment Meldon’s expression reminded Finch of the boy the younger man had been on that day, a boy small for his age, almost ugly and strangely innocent. It had not taken long for the bullies to seek him out and he had had no means to defend himself against bigger and more experienced fighters. Up until that moment Finch had lived up to his Quaker beliefs, even when he himself had been beaten, but he had not been able to bear to see the same thing done to his friend and had gone to help. Neither of them had been a fighter, then, and they had been soundly and painfully beaten. When they had recovered, Finch had started to take fencing and boxing lessons and had forced Meldon to accompany him. Finch had, to his disgust, proved to be a good pupil. Later he had learned to shoot and, shortly after he had married, General Warren ha
d come to him and he had learned the other skills that served him and his country still.

  “I acknowledge that as regards wealth you were the stronger opponent. How much of your own money did you risk?”

  “What? Oh, very little. I did not profit from it.”

  “Of course not.” Meldon looked at his friend suspiciously. “Did Caro help you?”

  “Lady Caroline is propriety itself.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I suggest you ask her.”

  “Finch! Damn it! You dragged my sister into your scheme.”

  Finch said nothing. He had already put into action his plan to ruin Holden when Lady Caroline had come to him, incensed by the rumours about the woman he had taken into his house. A short conversation with Miss Wilding had already been enough to convince her of the governess’ good character and she had asked Finch what action they could take to negate the stories. Finch had replied that Holden’s credibility could be removed. Lady Caroline had thought for a while. “Very well. I can destroy his character, but how are we to punish him?” Finch asked her whether the loss of his character wouldn’t be enough. “No, it wouldn’t be for a man like that. I leave his punishment in your hands.”

  No more had been said about it, but Finch had reflected long on how little he knew Lady Caroline.

  “Sometimes you push the limits of our friendship,” said Meldon

  “I thought our friendship had no boundaries.”

  “My sister is a boundary!”

  “Tell her that.”

  Meldon stood abruptly and began to pace until he had calmed down. Eventually he turned back to Finch.

  “She’d do anything for you, you know that.”

  “Which is why I am careful to ask nothing.”

  Finch knew that he sounded pompous, but he was too fond of Lady Caroline to take advantage of her. He didn’t have to tell Meldon that he would do anything for Lady Caroline, regardless of the cost to himself, for his friend already knew it, as did his sister.

  “Very well. I will accept that no boundary was crossed.”

  “Good. Lady Anna, how wonderful to see you.”

  Finch stood as a footman showed Lady Meldon into the room. She nodded to Finch and her husband. Then she looked again at Finch.

  “You look unwell.”

  “He fell asleep in a chair,” explained Meldon. “He says he wasn’t drunk. And he doesn’t need you to look after him.”

  “I wasn’t going to offer. That would, I think, be Lady Louise’s rôle.”

  “You are assuming a great deal,” said Finch.

  “My husband leads me astray.”

  She smiled and Finch wondered again why it had taken his friend so long to propose to her. She was beautiful and as intelligent as he was. They were perfectly matched.

  “I do not think Louise would be much help if I were ill,” he admitted.

  The Meldons exchanged a glance at the familiarity. Finch refused to say any more when they looked back at him. He had interfered in their courtship; he would not let them interfere in his.

  Mary could tell that Freddie wanted to run ahead to meet Lord Meldon and she was proud that he managed to walk sedately down the stairs. She was also excited and afraid. She thought Finch had been asking her to stay away from the dining-room this evening. He couldn’t have meant that he wanted the governess to dine with his friends: an earl and a countess. He didn’t need her to supervise Freddie’s behaviour, for Freddie would not be awkward with Lord Meldon. It was only when Agnes appeared in the schoolroom saying that Finch had sent her to see if she wanted help dressing for dinner that she realised that Finch really did intend her to join them, unless she had her own reasons not to do so. Surely he realised how unusual it was. Even a Quaker would understand that a governess couldn’t dine with an earl. She couldn’t divine his reasons, so accepted that they would remain hidden from her.

  When they entered the dining-room she thought Finch looked relieved.

  Freddie bowed to the woman who must be Lady Meldon while she curtsied, then he turned to Lord Meldon and bowed. Meldon returned the bow and stepped towards Mary.

  “Miss Wilding, I’d like to introduce you to the Countess of Meldon.”

  The two women curtsied to one another. Mary felt even plainer than usual; Lady Meldon was beautiful. Her gown was elegant and the few pieces of jewellery she wore were exquisite.

  Agnes had done a good job, however. As she had helped Mary dress, she had chattered about the countess’ beauty and asked if she could dress Mary’s hair as she wished. Mary trusted Agnes’ taste and knew that she looked her best. She found herself sitting next to the countess, who began to talk about poetry. Like Finch, she enjoyed modern poetry and they had both read Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage recently. Mary needed little encouragement to join in the conversation; Lord Meldon and Freddie were entertaining one another, so she was not needed there. Lady Meldon seemed to be genuinely interested in her opinions. Mary was already used to the idea that Finch enjoyed these types of discussions with her and it did not seem strange that he should enjoy it with the countess, whose taste was just as educated as his own.

  Since she was supposed to be teaching Freddie how to behave in society, Mary watched his behaviour closely. He had told her a great deal about Uncle George, so she was not surprised by the ease that Freddie exhibited in Meldon’s company. What did surprise her was Freddie’s attitude towards the countess. He couldn’t quite be rude enough to pretend that she wasn’t there, but he managed to make it clear that her presence was unwelcome. He spoke to her only when he had to.

  Mary watched for Finch’s reaction to this and saw that it distressed him. It was obvious that he himself was very fond of Lady Meldon and was at a loss to understand his son’s coldness. Mary drew her own conclusions quickly enough. Freddie, too young to understand the nature of love, saw in Lady Meldon a rival for his godfather’s affections. She smiled as she saw how this misapprehension might be corrected.

  The meal was over too soon for her, as it always was when she dined with Finch. Finch and Meldon took Freddie into the garden to play cricket and Mary was left alone with Lady Meldon. They sat in the drawing-room to drink their coffee.

  “Freddie is a lovely boy,” said Lady Meldon.

  “Yes, he is a pleasure to teach. I was very lucky to get the place here.”

  “Mr Finch thinks he is the lucky one.”

  Mary smiled.

  “That can’t be true,” she said.

  “It is good for him to have an intelligent woman in the house.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I don’t know if you’re aware that he was very ill in the spring, so ill that he had to delay his return from Ireland. He is still not quite himself.”

  Finch had told her as much and she nodded.

  Lady Meldon sighed and Mary began to wonder what it was she wasn’t saying.

  “He is not as careful as he used to be,” Lady Meldon continued, “nor does he see as much as he used to see.”

  Mary’s gentle smile disappeared as she saw that Lady Meldon knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was in love with her employer. Finch had told her that the other woman was perceptive. For a while neither woman said anything and it was this that decided Mary to speak. If Lady Meldon had asked the question, she would not have answered.

  “He’s a man who loves much. It’s easy to love him.”

  Mary was torn between a desire to talk intimately about Finch with a woman who was his friend and utter embarrassment at having this beautiful woman know that she loved without hope.

  “But he loves someone else.” Lady Meldon was gentle.

  “He doesn’t have to know that I love him.”

  Mary was confident that she hadn’t given herself away to him, even if other people could guess her feelings for him. Lady Meldon was correct that Finch was strangely unobservant. For an intelligent man, he saw little.

  “But won’t you be miserable living here w
ith him, if ... when..?”

  “When he marries her? No, I am content to be near him.”

  Mary hoped this was true. She had never seen that woman and Finch had never even mentioned her name. She knew that the woman had dined here with Finch on a couple of occasions, but Mary had not even been tempted to loiter in the hall to see her arrive.

  Lady Meldon was silent, as if she, too, had once also known a hopeless love.

  “But when Freddie is grown and goes to school?”

  “That is five or six years away and then I must leave. Mr Finch will give me a good character and I shall never see him again.”

  Mary looked away so that the countess wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes, for she had also considered the possibility that there would be more children, that woman’s children. Could she love and teach them as she loved Freddie? She didn’t know.

  “I wish I could help you,” said Lady Meldon.

  “There is no need, my lady. I am perfectly happy.”

  “Are you, though? Would it be better to go now?”

  Mary shook her head, unable to speak.

  She could not admit that it was the thought of never seeing Finch again that kept her here. However painful the future would be, and she knew that it would be painful, the idea that she might live somewhere where he was not was unbearable.

  Lady Meldon closed her eyes and her pallor indicated that, once again, hers was a more than intellectual understanding of Mary’s situation.

  “There are so few options for a young woman without friends. Promise me that you will come to me if you can bear it no longer. Our child will need a governess eventually, but I could take you as a companion, if you need to come to us sooner.”

  “You are very kind, Lady Meldon.”

  Lady Meldon smiled. “I used to say that to my husband before we... before we were married. It always made him angry, although it was true.”

  “I do not mean to anger you. I will come to you if I have need. The alternative...” She took a deep breath, “The alternative is unthinkable.”

  “You’re Catholic, aren’t you?”

  Now Mary smiled.

  “I see that you understand my situation perfectly.”

  “I wish I did not. I was once poor and friendless, as I thought. My lord was a true friend, as was Mr Finch, had I but known it.”