by April Munday
Slowly Finch smiled, then he burst into laughter.
“Oh, Meldon, I’m sorry, but you really are a fool.”
Meldon was speechless. Finch grabbed one of Meldon’s hands, peeled off his glove and held it before his face.
“I think she must mean these hands, for I know of no man who possesses a pair finer.”
Meldon snatched his hand away and put the glove back on.
“Do not make fun of me, for I love Miss Smith and I will not be mocked.”
“I don’t mock you. I’m only trying to make you see what you refuse to see.”
Meldon wished it were true, but knew it was not, it could not be.
“There is the small matter that she tried to kill me.”
“Only once, Meldon, only once. Now, when can I see her? I have thought much about how she would look as a woman.”
Meldon sighed. Was he to have yet another rival in his friend?
“I thought you wanted to see my mother?”
Finch had the grace to blush.
Meldon stepped out of the door and called for Simpson. “Please tell Miss Smith that Mr Finch is here and that if she wishes to join us, we are here in the billiard room.”
Simpson returned with the news that Miss Smith would join them as soon as she had finished reading to the countess.
Finch and Meldon discussed Finch’s journey from London while they waited.
When Anna entered she was smiling.
“Mr Finch. What a pleasure to meet you again and under such pleasant circumstances.”
Finch bowed.
“The pleasure is mine, Miss Smith. I am happy to see you recovered from your previous ordeal and from your most recent one.”
Anna’s smile broadened at such plain speaking. “Lord Meldon has told all, then?”
“Only that you drank a little more whisky than was good for you.”
“At least I have a better idea of how much is too much now,” she said wryly.
“There are some who would say that even a sip is too much for a lady.”
“And what do you say?”
Finch hesitated, as if sensing for the first time that he might have made a trap for himself.
“I say that there are some women to whom the rules do not apply and you, Miss Smith, are one of them.”
They both laughed like old friends sharing an old joke. Meldon was filled with jealousy. Why couldn’t he make Anna feel this easy? Why couldn’t he make her smile and laugh?
“Come and sit by the fire,” he said. “You look cold.”
“I am warm enough, thank you,” but she allowed him to lead him to the chair nearest the fire.
She smiled at him as she sat, then turned her attention back to Finch.
“How was your journey?”
They continued to discuss Finch’s journey until Simpson came to tell them that the countess was expecting them in the sitting-room and had asked for tea to be brought.
“Then we will join her there,” said Meldon as he stood. “Now, let us go and drink cold tea with Mother.”
The next morning Meldon waited for Anna with Finch in the stable yard. She was later than usual and, although he was impatient to inspect the work on the cottages, his impatience was tempered by the fear that something worse than a hangover had happened to her this time.
Eventually she appeared, hurrying breathlessly from the house.
“I apologise, Lord Meldon. I had not allowed for it to take longer to dress in a habit than in breeches.”
“You look very well in your habit,” said Meldon, before Finch could say anything.
“Thank you, but I find it awkward and I will need your assistance to mount and dismount.”
“That is of no matter,” lied Meldon. Anna so rarely allowed him to assist her that he thought she must find his touch distasteful. He helped her on to her horse. Since the stallion she normally rode was not used to a side saddle, she was riding the mare that Caroline used when she was in Hampshire.
“You look very elegant, Miss Smith,” said Finch and Meldon could not disagree. She looked unhappy, but she sat as naturally as she did when she was astride. Her skill as a horsewoman was impressive.
They rode to the cottages where Meldon inspected the work done in his absence. To his dismay, Anna did not come in with him, but stayed outside with Finch. Occasionally he heard them laugh and he clenched his fists. It took all his willpower not to go and call his friend out.
When he was finished, he walked back to them and was struck by how attractive they were as a couple. Finch was in his early thirties and, although much shorter than Meldon, was better looking. Even if Anna was not swayed by beauty alone, Finch’s character was of the best kind. He was steady and loyal. Meldon knew that he had the ability to love deeply, for he had been devastated by the death of his wife in childbirth five years ago and was devoted to his son. Meldon knew that it was for Freddie’s sake Finch looked for a wife, but how much better for them both would it be if he could love his new wife. And what man could not love Anna?
Finch was, indeed, thoughtful as they returned to the house. Anna and Meldon discussed his plans for the new sheep. Meldon was pleased by her interest and the intelligence of her questions. The purchase of the sheep had been nothing but a ruse to allow him to go to Kent to resolve a problem there, but he had been so impressed by the sheep he had seen in order to give substance to his story that he had bought some and they would be arriving shortly.
When they had arrived back at the house, Anna left them to go and change before breakfast.
“She’s a remarkable woman,” said Finch as they walked into the house. “If you don’t propose before the ball she will have men queuing up to marry her.”
“Will you be one of them?” asked Meldon before he could stop himself.
Finch stopped walking. “So that’s why you’ve been as black as thunder all morning.” He paused as if considering the suggestion. “It’s not such a bad idea at that.”
Meldon hit him so hard that he fell.
“Oh God, Finch. What...?” Meldon regretted it immediately.
“You are a fool, Meldon, and right now I’m a better friend than you deserve.” Finch made no effort to get up until Meldon reached down and pulled him to his feet.
“I’m sorry.”
“Accepted. Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Meldon, especially where there’s no cause, but I tell you now that if I see the slightest sign of interest on her part in Carstairs, I will propose myself, if you don’t. She doesn’t deserve a man like that.”
Anna began to worry that she would never finish the gloves she was making for Meldon in time to give them to him before the ball. It had occurred to her whilst he was in Kent that she could give him another present that might mean more to him than her poem and, recalling the excessive care that he took of his hands, thought that gloves might be an appropriate gift. She could not, however, get rid of the idea that it was vanity on Meldon’s part to wear gloves all the time, as if his beautiful hands needed protection. It was only when she heard him playing the piano that she realised it was not affectation; he was protecting his hands so that he might continue to play. The grief that he had caused that same evening was not, in her opinion, a good reason not to show the proper gratitude of a homeless guest to the man who had provided her with shelter all this time, even if that was not how she saw her situation herself.
She had sought out Perkins and explained her plan to him and Perkins had agreed that a pair of gloves would not only be a suitable gift for his lordship, but would also be a welcome one. He had given her a pair of old gloves that she might use as a pattern and, when Meldon had next offered to drive her into the town, she had gone with him into the haberdasher’s and bought some fabric, whilst pretending to be buying trimmings for her gown. As soon as they entered, Mr Thomas had greeted Meldon enthusiastically and led him to the far end of the shop where he kept a stock of good quality gloves for just such an occasion.
“Do you m
ind if I leave you here with Mrs Thomas?” he had asked and, for a moment, Anna had had the impression that if she had said she did mind, he would have given up the pleasure of inspecting Mr Thomas’ new stock for her sake and not out of politeness.
“Not at all,” she had said, wishing that she could have tested her theory.
Mrs Thomas had been extremely helpful when Anna had explained what she was doing and they had decided on a fabric that would lend itself well to the embroidered detail that Anna intended to add to it.
She had started well, sewing in the morning light in the library, when she should have been writing, but now she never knew when he might visit her there. There was no pattern to his visits, except that he never stayed longer than an hour. Then she knew she could sew until she was called away to dine. Asking for another candle for her bedroom would not necessarily give rise to questions, but Meldon would wonder what she was doing that required so much light.
Finally she enlisted Perkins’ help and he found her an additional candle so that she might rise early and sew before she rode out with Meldon in the morning. Now time was running out and there were more demands on her time. Her own clothes had to be made ready for the ball; she was invited to play cards with Finch and Meldon each evening; Simpson continued bringing questions about the ball to her as he had begun during Meldon’s absence in Kent and, as the countess wanted to change all the arrangements, Anna was constantly in demand as a peacemaker between them. She had known that the library could not continue to be her refuge as guests started to arrive, no matter what Meldon might say and now her bedroom was her only private place.
Two days after Finch, Lady Caroline arrived with her husband, some of her children and her father-in-law. Anna welcomed their presence.
For reasons she didn’t understand, her dealings with Meldon were more tense than ever and Finch, from whom she would willingly have taken some advice, seemed to be avoiding her altogether. Lady Caroline’s arrival filled the house with noise and bustle. The general and Arthur Warren found their way to the billiard room with Meldon and Finch and Anna sat with Lady Caroline and the countess.
Lady Caroline brought all the gossip from London. The countess feigned interest, but Anna thought she cared little for what was happening so far away. For her part, Anna was happy to hear about some of the people she had known in London, but her mind was with Meldon and how she might find her way back to the easiness they had come to know in one another’s company more recently.
The ball was only two days away and she must have an answer ready for Carstairs. He had promised to wait until then, but each day since he had visited the house he had sent her a small gift. Anna had found each one an insult and suspected that Meldon had felt the insult as well. For a man who was little more than a stranger to act in such a way was the height of bad manners, but the longer she stayed at Meldon Hall the more difficult it would be to leave and she wondered if she shouldn’t accept the first offer that came, even if it came from Carstairs. Meldon was so rarely in Hampshire that she need not see him much after the marriage. If only Carstairs were a man more to be admired or respected.
“Anna, dear, are you unwell? You seem distracted.”
Lady Caroline’s voice showed her concern.
“I’m sorry, I was thinking about something else.”
The countess smiled indulgently. “Balls always make young women silly.”
“’Silly’ is not a word I should ever use to describe Anna, Mother.” Lady Caroline turned back to the younger woman. “You look worried.”
“In a way I was thinking about the ball. Mr Carstairs, a neighbour of Lord Meldon’s, wishes to marry me and has asked for an answer at the ball.”
“That impatient fop!” said the countess. “You should have given him his answer there and then.”
“I did not understand his relationship with Lord Meldon and the damage a refusal might cause.”
“Does George know about this?” asked Lady Caroline.
“Yes, he offered to investigate Mr Carstairs’ character.”
“Oh.” Lady Caroline’s disappointment was obvious. “George’s understanding of what is and is not acceptable in his own house seems somewhat lacking. But you will at least have the satisfaction of sending him away at the ball.”
“But I must marry,” said Anna quietly.
“You would marry a man who has the bad manners to propose marriage the first time you met him?” The countess was outraged.
“I cannot rely on Lord Meldon’s generosity forever.” Anna knew that she had said too much, for Lady Caroline’s lips became thin as she controlled her anger. She stood.
“Excuse me, Mother, Anna. I must walk for a while to consider what to do.”
“Please, do nothing, Caro.”
“Anna, you can’t just marry the first man who asks you.”
“There might not be a second.”
“Then stay here with me. Anna, you have filled a space I didn’t even know was empty.” The countess’ voice was gentle and persuasive. For a moment Anna allowed herself to consider the offer.
“Thank you, Lady Meldon, you are very generous, but...”
“Say no more, Anna. I believe I understand your difficulty.”
“I doubt it, Caro, but I do not believe that you can change things.”
Lady Caroline sat again, her face angry. “You are right, of course. I do not understand the difficulty.”
If Anna understood the look on her friend’s face, it would not be long before she did, one way or the other.
Chapter Seven
Meldon was working in his office when his sister found him. The general had indicated that he wanted to talk to him, but they could not do so in the house, for Meldon could not say with certainty that no one in his household was a spy for the French. Meldon was trying to manufacture a reason to leave the house with the general, but without his brother-in-law. If the sheep arrived today they might provide the reason.
“So this is where you’re hiding.”
Caro’s passion surprised him. She was usually self-controlled, but now she was so furious that she was shaking.
“I am not hiding. I am working.”
“Why do you think I allowed you to act with such impropriety and danger to her health in bringing Anna here?”
Meldon flinched under the force of her anger.
“I believe you hoped I would propose to her.” Meldon’s calm seemed to have the opposite effect to what he had hoped.
“Why haven’t you?”
Meldon began to fear that the servants would hear her raised voice.
“That is of no concern to you.” He opened the ledger on his desk in the hope that she would leave.
“I am her friend. I practically forced her to come here with you. Do you not love her? Was I mistaken in that?” She closed the ledger with a sudden movement that almost trapped his hand between its pages. Now he looked up at her.
“You are on dangerous ground, Caro.”
“You will lose her to your neighbour Carstairs.”
“I believe he has indicated that he wishes to marry her.” Meldon noticed that his hands were shaking in his effort to control his own anger, whether with himself or with Carstairs he did not know.
“Why haven’t you proposed to her, George?” Meldon recognised this tone. Caro felt her responsibility as his older sister, but she was always careful to let him know that she loved him even during their most violent arguments. Usually he responded in kind, but today he could not. He could not share Anna’s story with her, no matter how much she provoked him.
“I told you that this is not your concern.”
“You’re not proud and you don’t care what others think, so it’s not the difference in station that bothers you. Although I should tell you that I believe she’s not a gentleman’s daughter.” As Meldon started to object, she said, “She’s a lady, George, don’t pretend you don’t think so, too.” Meldon refused to be drawn and he did not point out the er
ror in her logic, but Caro continued. “She’s not already married otherwise she would not be considering Mr Carstairs’ offer.”
Meldon sank back into his chair.
“So, she is considering his offer.”
Caro said nothing for a moment as she looked at her brother. She stroked the back of the hand closest to her.
“It seems you have made it quite clear that she must leave here. Mr Carstairs is the first to make that possible. George, I don’t know Mr Carstairs, but I don’t think Anna would be happy with him. I don’t think she would be happy with anyone but...”
“Miss Smith will receive another offer,” interrupted Meldon as if he had not heard her, “from Finch.”
Caro sank into the other chair in the office. “Finch? Why would he...? I know that you hold him in high regard, but would you stand aside for him? Could you?”
No! Meldon wanted to shout that he would kill any man before he’d let him touch Anna, even Finch.
“I told you you were on dangerous ground.”
“So you did. Why did you bring her here, George? Why did you let her...”
“You wouldn’t take her, Caro. Who else could I leave her with?”
The lie came easily, anything to make her stop this.
“How will I ever make this up to her?”
Meldon was surprised by the depth of his sister’s sorrow.
“She will be happy with Finch.”
“Oh, you are such a fool. If you spent less time thinking about Anna and more time talking to her... Please, George, do that for her at least.”
“I spend a lot of time with Miss Smith.”
“Mother says you play cards together with Perkins in attendance.”
“I am mindful of her reputation.”