She moved to her writing table chair, hoping Julia would take the hint and go. Inside the desk was an incomplete letter to her parents. She was supposed to be heaping praise on Julia for being a good wife. For the first time in her life, she couldn’t finish a letter. Julia had surpassed her expectations. However, now that Melanie’s secret was out, that she didn’t wish to be a wife or mother, she no longer knew what to say to anybody, even in a letter.
She didn’t know what to do with herself either, and that was unusual. She should focus on her duty to her family, so she wrenched her mind back to her brother’s interests. “At least Valentine’s swimming hasn’t ever been a bone of contention with the older set. That has always worried me.”
Julia perched on the edge of the bed. “He’s not the only one who goes.”
“True.” All his friends went. Walter went.
Melanie kept her gaze on the fine white curtains shrouding the window. She hadn’t thrown them wide today. The muted light suited her mood better than the clear day outside. “I would not recommend that you try to join them if you ever want to impress other women.”
Julia giggled. “They swim naked, you know.”
A blush swept Melanie’s cheeks. “The less said about that the better, if you don’t mind. I don’t like to imagine my brother’s friends in that fashion.”
“Not even one of them?” Julia discarded her cup and settled herself more fully on the bed, her fingers twisting together in her lap. “I know you say now that you do not wish to marry, but hadn’t you set your cap for Hawke not so long ago?”
Melanie frowned at the change of topic. “Anyone could see he was fondest of Abigail.”
“And Sir Peter,” Julia mused, her brow wrinkling. “Don’t you tell me you were not wildly impressed by his title last year?”
“A baronet deserves respect.”
Julia, clearly unsatisfied by that answer, jumped to her feet and came closer. “I saw you flirt with him when he came back to Brighton.”
Melanie sighed at the memory of that night. “And did you see how well that worked out?”
Julia frowned, her confusion evident. “He asked for Imogen’s hand in marriage a second time not long afterward.”
Melanie had been relieved by that development. “He did indeed.”
“But you couldn’t have known he would ask her again.”
“His heart always resided there. He just needed another push—or a fright, as the case was that night—in her direction.”
“You flirted with him so he wouldn’t consider you? Was that why you were so obvious about it?” Julia slouched untidily, her mouth agape.
She smiled slightly. “Nothing terrifies a man more than a woman who appears hell-bent on marriage.”
“Do you know you might just be the most wretchedly devious woman I’ve ever met?”
She shrugged. “His title, my dowry. Some would have considered that a match made in heaven. Which it would not have been, I assure you. It would not have taken long for some well-meaning person to suggest the match to him, so I made sure the idea was entirely unpalatable to begin with.”
Julia grunted. “Teresa said you kept a list of bachelors.”
“The list is,
was
, merely an amusement to pass a tedious and dull winter in Oxford while my mother urged me to impress other gentlemen.” She eased a folded sheet of paper from between the covers of an older K.L. Brahms book. “I used to try to predict who would make a match before I returned in the summer. I wasn’t often wrong.”
She passed it to Julia and waited while she read it. It was a single page of neat script. An idle fancy of hers. A gentleman’s name, and several potential spouses. Some names had been scratched out, others underlined as she’d settled on her choice for their wife. A few were circled as matches were made.
“Heaven help the man you
do
set your cap for,” Julia whispered. “He would have no chance of escape.”
Melanie’s smile vanished. “I don’t want children, so marriage isn’t an option for me.”
Julia met her gaze. “I’ve seen you with children, too.”
“As I said, I like other people’s children but I don’t have the temperament for my own.”
“How can you be so sure until you have them?”
She thought about her answer a moment. “I can’t. But I won’t be a willing party to neglect.”
“Should I prepare myself for Valentine to be a terrible father to our children?”
“No. My brother will be an exemplary parent.”
“So, despite his father being so unfeeling and unsupportive, Valentine will be an exception to his upbringing.”
“He already is.”
Julia met her gaze. “Then why can’t you be too?”
Melanie smiled sadly, unsurprised by Julia’s persistence. “You cannot convince me so easily. I have never wanted children of my own.”
“I am trying to understand.” Julia sighed and then grabbed her hand in a fierce grip. “I think any child would be lucky to have you for a mother. You would be strict, no doubt about that, but you would not be cruel. You would love them and care for them all.”
“All?” She shook her head at the idea of having many. She glanced at her trapped hand, and discovered the compulsion to pull back had dimmed a great deal. “Don’t trouble yourself over my spinster state. I think the best course of action is to concentrate on you and my brother.”
“No more dares.” A grin tugged at Julia’s lips as she sat back. “Well, not until
after
we’ve conquered Scafell Pike together next summer.”
Melanie dropped her head into her hands. The pair were hell-bent on unconventionality. “Heaven help me.”
Julia laughed and then asked the question Melanie had been dreading all week. “Why was Walter George so angry with you?”
Melanie’s heart lurched but she’d practiced an answer well. “I suppose the idea of a woman unwilling to have children offended his sensibilities.”
“It was more than that.”
Melanie bit her tongue, struggling to find a reasonable explanation for Walter’s outburst that could satisfy Julia. “He was also defending his sister, as is his right.”
“He must have been hiding that anger for a very long time,” Julia said, staring at her pointedly. “He’s never shown a hint of it before.”
She had no answer to that. His emotions had been very high that night. She’d never known his thoughts so clearly until now and still felt the pain of his disappointment. The break in their friendship had been inevitable. “He was entitled to speak his mind, and I did ask him to.”
Julia frowned but before she could continue, Valentine burst into the room. “There’s been an accident.”
Walter.
Heart in her throat, she managed to croak out a steadier question instead. “Who is it?”
“Francis Clemens was struck by a carriage at sunrise. He’s dead.”
“Oh, poor Jane and the children!” Melanie reeled. Relief that her first fear—that Walter had been hurt—was acute, but now sadness gripped her because she knew the family. She reached for her reticule and found additional handkerchiefs in a nearby drawer. She stuffed them inside. “I must go.”
“Do you know them well?” Julia asked.
“They are older acquaintances of mine.” Andy’s former friends in Brighton. Melanie had continued to seek out the family long after there was a reason. “Good and decent people, but poor. Mr. Clemens’s passing will be devastating to his wife. I must pay my respects.”
“We’ll come with you,” Julia volunteered quickly.
“No. Please, if you don’t mind, I should like to go alone.” She glanced between husband and wife. “Mrs. Clemens is unlikely to wish for strangers to see her and the children on such a terrible day. I will, of course, pass along your condolences.”
Valentine nodded. “We will expect your return before dinner.”
Melanie struggled into her blue pelisse. “I will do my best not to be too late.”
Ten
“Mr. George, I cannot thank you enough for your generosity,” Vicar Pease enthused as they shook hands across his oak desk.
“Think nothing of it.” Walter set his hat to his head, eager to be on his way to make preparations for moving the Clemens widow and children into their new home since they were set to be evicted by day’s end. It had been a devastating week for them.
With Clemens gone and no surety of income ahead, their landlord had given the widow notice she’d be evicted by today. He’d been horrified when he’d learned of it this morning. “I am happy to help a family in need. If all goes well, Mrs. Clemens should be settled in her new home in a few hours. I had planned visiting her myself and passing along the news. But would you care to visit her new home with me now? I’m on my way there directly.”
“I think that’s a fine idea. I will meet you outside in a moment.” The vicar tugged on his coat. “I’ll just inform my wife that I’m going out.”
The vicar stepped from the room and Walter strolled out to the street frontage, taking a moment to glance around him.
Unfortunately, his gaze caught on Melanie Merton a moment later.
They had not spoken for a week by his design, but he’d not needed to expend much effort to avoid her. According to Julia, she’d largely kept to the house.
He hadn’t wanted to see her. He’d been moments away from humiliating himself by suggesting himself as her husband. When she’d revealed the extent of her indifference to men and marriage and children, he’d lost his temper entirely because it made no sense.
She hurried toward him now though, a determined expression on her pale face. He was surprised to see she was alone, when she’d always been so particular about her maid accompanying her everywhere in the past. He prepared himself to be polite as she drew near. “Miss Merton.”
“Mr. George.” She glanced about, her gaze lingering on the vicar’s front door. “What an unexpected surprise to see you here.”
“I am waiting on the vicar to join me.”
Her shoulders sank and she glanced past him. “I wished to speak to him too.”
“I expect him at any moment.”
True to his word, Pease bowled out of the front door and rushed to his side. The vicar flicked his hand from side to side. “I’ve no time to speak to you today.”
“But I only wanted to enquire about aid for Mrs. Clemens,” she rushed to say before the man could move past her. “She has nowhere to go.”
A disapproving expression crossed the vicar’s face. “We are seeing to that now. She has been taken care of. Shall we go, Mr. George?”
The rude snub startled Walter. Melanie might not have the stomach for the ill and injured, but he was touched that she asked after a poor blacksmith’s widow. The family should have been quite beneath her. “We are just seeing her settled into a new abode now.”
She met his gaze warily. “I am pleased to hear it, especially with winter not far off. Might I ask where she will live?”
The vicar cleared his throat. “Mr. George, did you not say you were in somewhat of a hurry?”
“Not so much as to be rude to Miss Merton.” He gave her the directions. “Would you care to accompany us?”
He expected her to decline.
“Thank you. I should like to see the place for myself so I might find it later.” She nodded and they walked side by side along the cobblestone streets toward the small home he would offer the widow. It was a relatively new purchase, and the broken windowpanes had been replaced only yesterday. All it should require was a thorough sweeping out before Mrs. Clemens and her brood could move in.
Vicar Pease filled the silence with talk of business and entertainments, but largely ignored Melanie. Walter, on the other hand, could not. They had argued; or rather, he had finally spoken from his heart about how her behavior had affected him. He felt awkward around her now and foolish. Walter never liked to let resentments linger. She would not change and he should not have expected it. The fact he was disappointed she wouldn’t marry anyone, even him, was entirely his mistake. Unfortunately, with the Vicar nearby, he could not speak of the matter candidly.
When the small home he’d offered to Mrs. Clemens came into view, he pointed it out to her. “There. I hope it will be large enough.”
Melanie squinted at it, her eyes assessing. “It seems on the small side.”
Walter nodded, agreeing with her. “The home had two bedchambers upstairs and none below. For a family of eleven it will be quite a squeeze, but there is nothing else available in Brighton, nothing else offered to the family. It is the best that can be done at short notice.”
Mr. Pease shook his head, casting another disapproving glance at Melanie. “Of course it will be large enough and Mrs. Clemens will be grateful, as we all should for another’s charity to those in need.”
Walter couldn’t miss the sharpness of his tone, and fumed. He addressed his reply to the vicar. “Believe me, if I had a bigger home that was unoccupied, I would have offered that instead and not have the worry of whether everyone would fit inside. Mr. Clemens was well known to my father, and a good man he was too.”
He caught Melanie’s elbow out of habit and guided her up the short flight of stairs ahead of the vicar before he realized what he was doing. He was supposed to be angry with her, but in the face of such rudeness, he couldn’t seem to suppress his protective instincts around her.