The Heart That Lies (14 page)

“
Mr Carstairs asked if he might court me.”

It came out in rush as if she were afraid of what he might say.

“Did he, by God? The fellow is very forward.” Meldon realised that he had shouted and took a step away from her as she shrank back from him.

“You wish me to investigate his character, then? That is your request of me?”

Anna said nothing and sat as if frozen by the force of his anger. When she did speak her voice was so quiet he had to lean closer to hear her.

“We said I must marry or teach in order to leave here.”

Was his company so intolerable that she would marry the first man who asked?

“And if I find that his character does not recommend him?”

“There will be other men at the ball looking for beautiful wives. One of them should be of good character.”

She
turned towards the door.

“Good
night, my lord.”

He
stepped aside to let her go. There was no point trying to stop her, there was no point to anything now.

Anna almost ran from the room in her effort to keep Meldon from seeing the tears that ran down her face. How had he thought she could be interested in a man as shallow and vapid as Carstairs? When she had interrupted him, she had intended only to ask whether his relationship with his neighbour would be harmed if she turned down his offer as quickly as he had made it. She had no need of Meldon’s help to understand the other man’s character. Carstairs had insulted both his host and her. No man of character would make such a proposal to a woman about whom he could know nothing, other than that she was the permanent guest of another man.

Meldon’s behaviour this evening, however, had led her to hope that
his own feelings for her might have developed into something softer. She had noticed the way he had not taken his eyes off her while she had played and sung earlier. He had just sung with her as if his heart must break if he left her. And the shawl. Once again she ran her fingers over the soft fabric. This was surely a gift to which he had given much thought and so precious that he had not given it to her in front of the countess and Mr Carstairs.

She shivered as she remembered the way their fingers had touched and he had not pulled back
, but had caught her fingers and held them.

Once in her room she poured some
whisky into a glass and downed it in one go. It burned her as it went down. She poured a larger measure and sat in her armchair to drink it. How much would it take to make her drunk enough to forget this evening? More than she had in her room, she suspected.

After two glasses she re-examined the prospect of marrying Mr Carstairs. Since she still could not consider it, she drank two more glasses, then fell asleep.

Meldon had worried when Anna had not appeared to ride with him in the morning, but had assumed that her thoughts were too full of Carstairs to want to have anything to do with him. He had had another restless night as a result of their conversation. His only resolution had been to unmask Carstairs, if he was a French agent, before Anna could marry him.

. The man was shallow and lacking real intelligence. His conversation had been rough and superficial, not at all what Meldon would expect from a gentleman. Until yesterday, he had not thought Anna someone to be impressed by superficial beauty. Had she not told him that the man she loved was plain, but of good character? He had groaned as he thought of that other man.
He had believed her constant, but it seemed that she was as changeable as the weather. Whilst he was in Kent he had thought only of how it would be impossible to replace that man in her affections and now a man completely unworthy of her love had done so in less than an afternoon.

His horse protested as he spurred him on towards the hunting lodge. Once there, Meldon threw himself from his mount and ran inside. Closing the door behind him, he gave vent to the scream
of frustration that had been building inside him since the night before. For years he had thought he could not love and now he did love he found it so painful that he wished it were true. He had wasted his love on a woman who seemed to want only what he could not give her. That thought was unbearable and he rested his forehead against the door.

He took a deep breath and steadied hims
elf. Confident that he could now present himself to the world without giving himself away, he left the lodge and went to speak to the shepherds about the new sheep.

When Anna did not appear at breakfast Meldon sent a maid up to find out if there was something wrong. The maid had returned scandalised and had stood close to him to whisper, “Miss Smith begs to be excused, but she is unwell.”

Meldon was on his feet before she had finished and climbed the stairs two at a time. He
found Anna sitting on the floor of her room clutching a basin in her lap. She had just been sick. Since she was still wearing the dress she had worn the night before, he assumed that she had not managed to get into bed. For a moment he knew only relief and amusement, but a groan from Anna reminded him that her suffering was very real.

He turned to call for the maid, but found that she was behind him.

“Ask Perkins to make his hangover remedy, then bring it to me.”

The maid nodded and ran.

Meldon looked at the whisky decanter. It was empty. He knew she rarely drank here, preferring to drink while playing cards with him in his rooms and not drinking much then, so the decanter must have been almost full. He felt queasy himself as he estimated how much she had drunk.

“How do you feel?” he asked, squatting down beside her
and, despite himself, stroking her arm.

“Terrible.”

“Jane will bring you something that will make you feel better, then we’ll put you to bed.”

Anna raised her
tear-stained face to look at him and her wretchedness almost made him laugh.

When Jane
returned with Perkins’ potion he sent her away to fetch a bed pan so that Anna’s bed would be warm when they got her into it. He wasn’t sure how this was to be arranged, unless Anna could manage to undress herself with Jane’s help.

When it
came to it, he had to prise the bowl from her fingers. While he went to empty it, Jane helped Anna into her nightgown as she sat on the floor. Then she allowed Meldon back into the room so that he could carry Anna to her bed.

Once he was sure that she was comfortable
he had left Jane to watch her and contented himself with checking on her every hour. It was only when the crisis was dealt with that it occurred to him that his was very strange behaviour for a young woman so in love with a man that she was determined to accept his rash and impolite proposal of marriage.

Hearing a noise at the door to the estate office, Meldon looked up. Anna was standing in the open door looking very sorry for herself. He rose.

“Come in, please, Miss Smith. Come in and sit down. I trust you are feeling better.”

Hesitantly, Anna entered, but did not take the proffered seat.

“I have come to apologise to you for my... for my unconscionable behaviour.”

With an effort Meldon kept the smile from his lips.

“I have had guests who did much worse.”

“That does not excuse my own behaviour.”

“No, it does not. I wished merely to provide some... context. Please sit, you look as if you might fall at any moment.”

He took her elbow and helped her into the chair. Since he had seen her in the doorway she had not looked at him. Now he cupped her chin in his hand and raised her face. She tried to resist, so he held her while he spoke. “I do not care in the least that you were drunk and neither Jane nor Perkins will ever say anything about it. My mother believes that you were indisposed with some woman’s complaint. You had best ask Jane what she told her, so that you will not get caught out in a lie. What concerns me greatly is that something I have said or done caused you to get drunk.”

Anna finally managed to pull her head away, but not before he had seen the tears in her eyes. So, his guess had been closer to the mark than he had feared.
He had given much thought to what he had said the night before, but could not see what had upset her so much. She must have gone straight upstairs to her room and got drunk. Despite his efforts the exact cause of her distress eluded him.

“You are the perfect host,
my lord.”

Her voice was quiet. He propped himself against his desk so that he did not have to go behind it to sit.

“Won’t you tell me what it was?” Not wishing to call her a liar, he ignored her statement about his qualities as a host. “I should like to put it right, whatever it was, if I can.”

Now she began to twist her hands in her lap.

“You have already...” She shook her head. “Please do not worry. There will be no repeat of last night’s drinking.”

“You have missed my point, Miss Smith. It is not the drinking that concerns me. You can get drunk every night and I’ll join you, if I thought it
made you happy, but it doesn’t.”

Anna turned to face him.

“Please do not make my happiness your concern, my lord. You have made my health your business and my safety and my hu...husband. You cannot control everything.”

“
Damn it! I do not wish to control.”

“Do you not? I am nothing to you, not even a distant relative, yet you keep me here as if I were your prisoner and in a few days I am to be paraded before your friends like a brood mare. And you wonder that I might be less than happy.”

“Then stay here as my mother’s companion. She enjoys your company.” Meldon bit his lip to stop himself saying anything more. His confusion must have showed on his face, for had she not told him that Carstairs had more or less proposed to her. If he was not acceptable to her, why had she asked him to investigate the man’s character? The problem that proposal presented had yet to be solved, for he could not allow her to marry Carstairs, whatever she felt for him. For a fleeting moment he wished that he had a bottle of whisky to hand so that he might get drunk himself, but that was not his way. A clear head was what was needed and what he would keep.

Anna stood. “I can see that we are neither of us able to discuss this calmly. I
shall join your mother in the sitting-room until dinner.”

“Wait a moment. I intend to return Mr Carstairs’ call tomorrow afternoon. Would that be acceptable to you?”

He thought she flinched, but perhaps not.

“You are inviting me to accompany you to Mr Carstairs
’ house?”

Something was wrong, but Meldon could not work out what it was.

“Of course. He will be more interested in seeing you than me and you...” He stopped, for he could not bear to continue with the thought that she would soon be the man’s fiancée.

“You think it will be a treat for me to visit Mr Carstairs in the house
of which you expect me soon to be mistress.”

Her tone implied
that it would not be a treat. He imagined that it was his own presence that made it such an unattractive prospect.

“Yes.” It was the hardest thing he had ever said.

“I shall go with you, if that is what your wish.”

“But I thought...”

She did not wait to hear what he thought and was gone.

Meldon handed Anna up into the phaeton and took his place beside her. It was a bright day and the horses were eager. Meldon had to give all his attention to controlling them, so could spare none for her. For this Anna was immensely grateful. They had not spoken beyond the basic civilities since their conversation in the estate office yesterday and she was not sure what she could have said to him now. It had been easy enough not to go riding with him this morning as her hangover had left her tired and late in bed. She doubted Meldon had waited long before going without her.

It was not the first time that Meldon had taken her to visit a neighbour; she had visited all his immediate neighbours. She had also visited some of the
local poor with the countess. This was the kind of life to which she was used and she knew how to play her part. Her only uncertainty was how to deal with Meldon. Some days he seemed to want to keep her close and others he seemed so distant that they might have been strangers. His outburst yesterday puzzled her, not just because it was unexpected, but also for its strength. His concern for her seemed genuine, but misplaced. He had decided that Carstairs was to be her husband, yet it seemed not to please him and he seemed unable to see that it did not please her. It was going to be a difficult visit.

Carstairs’ house was set back from the main road into the village. It was smaller than
Anna had expected. It could have no more than six or seven bedrooms and the gardens looked uncared for. As they reached the end of the drive, no groom ran round the house to take charge of the horses, so, after he had helped her down, Meldon asked her to hold the reins while he knocked on the door. He made no attempt to hide his annoyance at Carstairs’ poor management. Anna heard him muttering under his breath as he took the reins from her and they waited for some response.

Eventually the door
opened and a servant saw them. He called to someone within the house, then came down the steps towards them.

“May I help you?”

“The Earl of Meldon and Miss Smith for Mr Carstairs.”

A boy ran round the side of the house and took the reins from Meldon.

“Follow me, please.”

Meldon gave way to Anna and they entered the house. The servant left them alone in the hall while he went to announce them.

“I’m sorry, Miss Smith. Had I known the manner of our reception I should not have requested your presence.”

“It is of no matter,
my lord. It is as well to know these things as soon as possible.”

“Your patience and understanding do you credit.”

The servant reappeared and led them to the parlour, where Carstairs was waiting for them.

“Good afternoon, Lord Meldon, Miss Smith. What a pleasure to see you both. Please.” He indicated that
Anna should sit.

“I trust that you have received your invitation to the ball,” began Meldon.

“Thank you, yes. For the first time I shall be in the country at the right time to attend one. I hear from your neighbours that it is always a good evening.”

“That is my intention. I like my neighbours to enjoy themselves when they are at my house.”

“And you, Miss Smith, are you also looking forward to the ball?”

“A great deal, Mr Carstairs.”

“All young women want nothing more than to dance,” said Meldon, dismissively.

“I believe that Miss Smith is more discriminating than that.”

“No,” smiled Anna, perversely driven to take Meldon’s side, even though she knew that he didn’t believe his own statement. “I enjoy dancing and I have seen Lord Meldon’s preparations for the ball. It will be a wonderful evening.”

Meldon smiled back.

“May I claim a dance with you now?”

Carstairs’ voice cut into her thoughts.

Meldon was standing between her and Carstairs and she saw him clench his fist at Carstairs’ rudeness.

“Of course, Mr Carstairs.”

She tried to make it sound as if it was the one thing that she hoped for out of the evening, but knew that she failed. It would be little more than a trial, but it must be borne if she was to make her life with him.

Surreptitiously
she examined the room. It was adequately, but modestly furnished. The furniture looked used and the curtains and wallpaper were faded.

“You live here alone, Carstairs?”

Meldon changed the direction of the conversation and Anna was able to continue her examination.