The Heart That Lies (20 page)

“Why?”

“You need to ask?”

Anna bit back the retort that she had asked.

“Then what am I to do?” Tears threatened to spill again.

“Accept my offer for a week.”

“You want me to pretend to be engaged to you for a week?”

“Yes. Maybe
just for tonight.”

Anna
felt too tired to argue. “Very well.”

“Good. Let us return
to the party. We will not tell Meldon how badly Carstairs behaved.”

Anna took the jacket from her shoulders.
Finch put it on and offered her his arm. They started back towards the house.

“I forgot to tell you how well you look in Meldon’s
jewels,” said Finch, as if they had just taken a friendly stroll in the garden. “He was most insistent that I bring them from London.”

“You brought them? But Lord
Meldon said they were Lady Caroline’s.” Anna hesitated. “At least he said that she had reminded him that I had none of my own.”

“Meldon asked me to bring them
from London when he invited me to the ball. He’d seen them when he was buying a present to bring to his mother.”

“They... they were bought for me?”

“Of course. Do you think Meldon has bracelets and necklaces lying around in case he needs them? He has no wife, Miss Smith.”

“I thought they were
Caro’s. Lord Meldon told me they were not a gift. I could not have accepted them. Oh.”

“
You could not have accepted them, any more than he could have given them. But they are for you nonetheless.”

Anna could not think as objections whirled around her head. Meldon had bought
jewellery for her knowing she could only wear it once. It didn’t make sense.

“
Have you been waiting there all this time, Meldon? You must be cold.”

Meldon was
standing by the door. He must have been watching them while they sat on the bench.

“Not as cold as
Miss Smith.”

“Mr Finch gave me his jacket.”

“Come into the library. I’ve had the fire lit.”

The three of them entered the
library and Anna stood by the fire. She was cold and suddenly very tired.

“Some
whisky will help,” said Finch. “I’ll get some.”

“Are you alright?” Meldon asked as he stood beside her.

“I don’t know.”

“Should I call Jane to put you to bed?”

“Not yet.”

“Then please sit here.”

He pulled a chair into place in front of the fire for her.

Anna managed to
look Meldon in the face. He looked as if he were barely holding in his anger. Could it be that everything she thought she knew about him was wrong? Was it possible that he loved her and all his actions were the result of love and not simple kindness?

“Was Mr
Carstairs the cause of your grief on the terrace?”

“It seems to be an evening of
impertinent questions.”

Meldon’s eyes widened in shock. “Finch?”

“Mr Finch has been a friend when I needed one.”

“He sent me away.”

“Yes, he did. I should...” She started to rise from the chair.

“I have
whisky and food,” Finch called from the door.

“
Perhaps you should leave it and go.”

“And leave you alone with my fiancée?”

Anna gasped and Meldon took a step towards Finch.

“They were tears of joy, then.”

“Do you doubt it?”

“Then I am the one who should leave.” Meldon started towards the door.

“My lord?”

He turned back to her.

“Thank you for everything you have done this evening.”

“I
have done nothing, but be a fool.”

He closed the door behind him.

“Drink some of this. You’ll feel better.” Finch pressed a glass of whisky into her hand.

“I don’t think I’ll ever feel better again.”

“Oh, Miss Smith, you are a sensible young woman. Sometimes I think that Meldon doesn’t deserve you. But enough of that. Drink this.”

Anna swallowed the
whisky as directed.

“Now eat.”

Again Anna obeyed. When she looked up at Finch she saw that he was smiling.

“Do you feel better?”

“No. I feel quite miserable.”

“Ah.
I had hoped... Never mind, I agree with Meldon that you should go to bed now.”

Anna felt so exhausted that she could not even protest against being ordered about as if she were a child.

“Then would you send for Jane? I don’t think I can manage on my own tonight.”

They left the library and Anna thought she saw Meldon at the other end of the hall.
Finch walked her up to her room.

“I know it’s too much to hope that you will sleep well, but please do not worry. If you loved him less it would be easier.”

His understanding was her undoing.

“Mr Finch, if you ask me to marry you again, I might accept.”

“Thank you. Now I can do what must be done.”

He carried her hand to his lips and touched them
lightly to it.

As she closed the door behind him, Anna wo
ndered what Meldon was thinking about the way the evening had gone.

Meldon returned to the library after Finch and Anna had gone upstairs. He was trying to piece together what had happened this evening. He knew his strategy had been working. Anna had been enjoying herself with him. He had seen the approving looks his neighbours had given her when he had introduced her to them. Their approval mattered little to him, but would make her life easier if she accepted him. If she accepted him. If he could bring himself to make the offer, which he could not now.

“So, you are engaged to Miss Smith,” he said as Finch entered.

“She didn’t deny it did she?”

“
Then you are not engaged.” Meldon was puzzled, Finch didn’t usually equivocate, not with him. “What happened?”

“That is between me and Miss Smith.”

“I meant with Carstairs.”

“Carstairs?”

“Miss Smith was crying. She is not a woman to cry when a man proposes and you are not a man to cause a woman to cry, not intentionally anyway.”

“There is nothing you can do about Carstairs.”

“I can call him out.”

“You would be killed and Miss Smith would be involved in a scandal of your making. I’m her fiancé. I should be the one to call him out, but I won’t, there is no cause.”

“No cause! He hurt her in some way.”

“
Keep your voice down! She was only hurt because you allowed it. If you had proposed to her...”

“She would
have turned me down, or do you forget I put a ball of lead into her shoulder?” Meldon’s argument was less forceful than usual.

“
Do you still believe that she would hold it against you that you shot her accidentally in a duel she instigated?”

“
Because she hated me enough to want to kill me. Whatever her reason for doing so was, nothing has changed.”

“She
still won’t tell you why?”

“No.”

“Do you believe she hates you still?”

“No.”

“Then you show some sense, at least. Meldon, how long has Miss Smith been able to leave here? I mean how long has it been possible for her to walk away and keep walking?”

“A few weeks.”

“Yet she stays. Unless she is looking for another opportunity to kill you, and there must have been many, she stays because she wishes to.”

“I have her promise not to leave the house unaccompanied.”

“I see. Well, since you are determined to throw her on the mercy of men like Carstairs, it seems I must marry her myself. I will be a good husband to her, Meldon. I am sorry that our friendship must end.”

For a moment Meldon wasn’t sure which thought hurt him the most. They had been friends for twenty years. A life without Finch was almost as unthinkable as a life without Anna.

“So she did accept you.” He shook his head, as if that would clear it and help him to understand what was happening.

“Would you ask her if she were free to accept?”

When Meldon hesitated, Finch shook his head.

“You really are a fool.”
And he was, for he had finally allowed himself to believe that he might be the man with fine hands loved by Anna. He had seen her smile when he had taken off his gloves to put her jewellery on her, as if she took as much pleasure in his hands as he did. He had even believed that that was why she had made him the gloves.

“What are you doing in here, George?
Your guests are asking for you.”

Meldon rose
wearily. “I’m coming, Caro.”

“Where’s Anna? I hoped she was with you.
Is she with Mr Carstairs?”

“She’s gone to bed. I exhausted her with the waltzing.”

Lady Caroline sighed. “What have I told you about lying to me, George?”

“That it’s a waste of time and you will always find me out. But this time you are in the wrong, for Miss Smith is indeed tired and has gone to bed. Finch took her up himself.”

“Did he?” Her disapproval was evident and Meldon guessed that they would have another difficult conversation when they were alone.

“She seemed to feel faint, so I escorted her up and left her in Jane’s hands.”

“Perhaps I should go and check that she is well.”

“Jane will come and fetch one of us if Miss Smith needs us.” Meldon hoped that his confidence in Jane was not misplaced.

“Very well, I shall find Jane.” Caroline turned away before either of the men could say anything.

“At least Miss Smith will come to no harm tonight,” said Finch.

“Why are you expecting her to come to any harm?” Meldon’s stomach turned.

Finch frowned. “I don’t know.”

Meldon said nothing; he knew better than to interrupt Finch when he was in this mood. Eventually Finch turned his gaze away from the fire and towards his friend. “If you don’t mind, I’ll spend the evening outside her door.”

“No one in this house means her any harm.” Meldon crossed the room to the door and turned back to Finch. “I’ll have Jane sleep in the dressing room. I take it you can make yourself comfortable enough in a chair.”

As he walked back to the ballroom Meldon told himself that Finch would protect Anna as well as he would himself. It was only as he lay awake in his bed after his guests had left or gone to bed, that he realised that even Finch could not protect her from herself.

Anna woke early. For a while she lay in bed. There would be no morning ride today and she no longer needed the time to complete Meldon’s gloves. Lying in bed when she was awake did not suit her any more than having nothing to do, so she rose, lit a candle and dressed.

Now she paced the room thinking about the events of the evening before, trying to make sense of what Finch had said and what he seemed to be trying to say to her.
It was incredible, but she had the impression that he was telling her that Meldon loved her. How this could be, she did not know, since none of his words or behaviour up to this point had given her any indication that he might feel that way about her.

She examined all that he had said and done since he had brought her here. Could there be another, more pleasing interpretation of his actions?
Could it be that he had not pushed her at Carstairs, but stepped aside in accordance with what he thought were her own wishes? She recalled now that she had been the one to say that she must marry, not him and he had been reluctant to introduce her to any single men; all their visits had been to married couples or houses where the eligible sons were absent.

Was it possible that her love for him was returned? If it was, what should she do? He had given no sign and she was certain that she should not.

And James, what of James? Long had she wrestled with the knowledge that her love for Meldon was a betrayal of her love for her brother. What would happen when Anna told him who she really was? Could she really contemplate marriage to the man who had killed James?

Would he disclose the reason for the duel and bring dishonour on himself or on James? Ever since James’ death Anna had not allowed herself to think that James might have been the one at fault and now she
considered it. The more she had learned about Meldon, the more incredible it seemed that he could have behaved in an underhand manner. It was, however, impossible to conceive of James doing something so dishonourable that it merited being called out by his friend. Therefore Meldon was at fault. Anna had seen herself last night how quickly Meldon could be roused to anger by a perceived insult. She was certain that had Meldon been the one to come upon her and Carstairs instead of Finch, Meldon would have called him out, or attacked him on the spot. But what had James done to rouse that anger?

It would be easy enough for Meldon to lie to her. She was getting better at recognising his lies, but she would never be entirely sure.

Anna saw that it was daylight and blew out her candle. She had to do something. Since she no longer had to marry Carstairs, she could risk everything with Meldon, provided she, and Finch, could live with the result. If only she dared do what needed to be done.

Meldon looked up as Anna rushed breathlessly into his office where he was going through his steward’s recommendations for his livestock. He had shut himself in here away from his guests since early this morning and had even had breakfast brought to him here. His excuse had been that the estate did not cease to need him just because he had thrown a ball. In reality he had no wish to see Anna, in case she should tell him how happy she was at the prospect of marrying Finch. He was avoiding Finch for the same reason. Finch had still been sitting outside Anna’s door when Meldon had left his suite, so he knew that nothing had happened during the night. Now she had invaded his sanctuary and his heart lifted just to see her, until he thought about what might have brought her here. Had she come here to thank him before she left with Finch?

She hesitated as she shut the door behind her then turned back to face him. He found her even more beautiful than usual.
Although still too short to be truly fashionable, a wisp of hair had fallen from the complicated style in which she had piled it on top of her head. It fell over an eye and she brushed it away impatiently. Even as he imagined that it was his hand doing the brushing, he pulled himself together and rose politely.

“There is something I can do for you?” His made his voice as languidly unconcerned as he could,
for she was Finch’s fiancée and no longer his concern, painful though it was to think.

Anna nodded, biting her lower lip.

Meldon moved out from behind his desk. He swore she would have stepped back if the physical obstacle of the door had not prevented any retreat on her part. Belatedly he realised that he had forgotten to use his stick. Anna had not noticed, but he reached for it now and leaned on it while he waited for her to speak.

“You told me I could ask you for anything.” It rushed out quickly as if she had practised it a thousand times and could say it without thinking.

He nodded. “I did and I meant it.”

“Anything?”

He frowned. “I would prefer it not to be something illegal or anything that would hurt someone else, but, yes, anything does cover what I offered.”

She blanched and he wondered what she had in mind.

“It might hurt someone else,” she said, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

He curled his fingers so that his nails dug into his palms. Only thus could he prevent himself going to her and taking her into his arms. What could she want from him that distressed her so?
And why was she not asking Finch? His head began to spin.

Anna clasped her hands in front of her waist and began to wring them. He was not used to such indecisiveness in her.
What terrible thing would she ask of him? No, he reassured himself, Anna did not have it in her to ask for something terrible; she didn’t even want him dead anymore.

“What is it that I can do for you?” he asked gently.

Anna raised her eyes to his. Once again he was struck by how beautiful they were.

“I want you to kiss me.”

For a moment he thought he dreamed; she was asking him to do the one thing he craved. He cleared his throat.

“Kiss you?” His voice, hoarse with desire, cracked.

“Yes. As a lover would.”

His lips parted to ask if she was certain. Then he won
dered why she asked this favour. He understood now that it was Finch who would be hurt and he was not sorry. His friend had betrayed him and now he would betray his friend, for he knew he would not refuse this request.

“Very well.” He noticed with satisfaction that he had control over his voice. If only the same could be said of his body. He knew he shook like a schoolboy called to the headmaster’s room for punishment after some misdemeanour.

“Just a kiss?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” For a moment she looked terrified.

“A lover would hold and touch.”

This time she blushed. It looked better on her than her former pallor.

“Just a kiss,” she clarified, her voice unsteady, “but you may hold me if you need to.”

Need to! He’d needed to hold her almost from the first.

“And you,” he asked, “will you hold me?”

She dropped her eyes.

“Hold me if you wish,” he said quickly, seeing that she would not understand that he joked.

“Thank you.”

Had she been kissed, he wondered. Was that what the fuss had been with Carstairs last night? Did she really know what she was asking him to do? He had no idea himself what she was asking of him. Why was it so important for him to kiss her? What did she really want? He put the questions aside; it only mattered that, for the first time, she had asked him to do something.

Slowly, he crossed the room to her and she looked up at him again.

“Now?” he asked, as she pressed herself back against the door. It occurred to him that she might mean at some future date, but he wasn’t sure that he could let her leave the room without the kiss.