The Heart That Lies (12 page)

She could not explain why he had brought her here.
Even less could she understand why he kept her here, when her presence was so clearly a burden to him and so resented by his mother. Surely Lady Caroline would have taken her in; they had quickly become friends and she had seemed to be a woman of sense. It would have been easy enough to slip away from her and resume life as Jonas Smith somewhere out of Meldon’s reach. Now she would have to marry and Meldon would discover who she was. It was a while before she could admit to herself that it was the thought of marrying another man that displeased her; marriage to a man of honour whom she loved would surely be wonderful. Honesty, however, compelled her to admit that Meldon felt nothing for her, so marriage with him would be the same as marriage with any man who neither loved nor respected her.

She wondered where he was and what he was doing.
Going to Kent to look at sheep had seemed reasonable. Meldon kept two separate flocks for their wool and the sheep on Romney Marsh were famous for both meat and wool. They had spoken many times about his desire to build up his flocks and his plans for the future.

He had sent two letters from Kent. One
was to his mother, explaining that he would return in plenty of time for the ball and forbidding her to make any changes. “As if Simpson would let me,” muttered the old lady. The other was to Anna, containing details of the sheep and telling her that he had seen a bonnet that was perfect for her and that he would bring it back with him.  Anna was more interested in the sheep. Meldon’s taste in bonnets was not good. She smiled when she realised that most of the letter was about the sheep and the bonnet almost an afterthought. Despite his wealth and the obvious enjoyment that he took from giving her things, she had managed to persuade him to keep his gifts to the minimum. Unless she married well, she could not pay him back when she left.

The
ball was her opportunity to meet people; no, it was her opportunity to meet men. It wasn’t lost on her that, just as Meldon had gone to inspect the sheep for their ability to breed and to produce wool, so men would be coming here to inspect women capable of giving them heirs.

Until Jonas Smith, she had
always accepted that this was her lot in life, but now she felt out of place. Even with Meldon such a life would be intolerable. Now she began to regret her promise to wait for his return.

Anna put down the letter, before she screwed it up so much that it was unreadable.

“Does my son tell you about the sheep?” asked the countess.

“Yes, it seems they are to his liking.”

“He doesn’t appear to be much in society. Perhaps there is none there.”

“Or he wishes to return home soon and does not wish to entangle himself with new acquaintances.”

“It has been some time since I have seen as much of him as in these last few weeks.” The countess was thoughtful. “Does he have any other news?”

Anna held out the letter to the countess. “He talks of a bonnet.”

Lady Meldon held up her hand in refusal. “We may at least commend him for the thought, though the execution will doubtless leave much to be desired.”

Anna laughed. “Lord Meldon is very generous and not just to me. I see it in the way he treats his tenants and his servants.”

The countess smiled, as she did whenever her son was praised in her presence. “It is not the wealth that makes him so. He has a good heart and cannot be otherwise.”

“I
believe he learned it from you, Lady Meldon, for you have made a stranger welcome in your home.”

“It is my son’s house.”

“But your home.”

Lady Meldon signed. “I will confess to you, Miss Smith, that you are correct. My son lives here, but he is not at home here.
He has made it comfortable and welcoming. He is known for his hospitality. But he is more at home in his woods and his fields than he is here. I believe he would rather live in the hunting lodge than here.”

Anna had seen the
hunting lodge on her excursions with Meldon, although they had never gone in. It was very old, but well-maintained. Meldon had explained that it was never used now, although he sometimes spent the night there when he wanted to be truly alone.

“I can
understand why he might want to live in the lodge, but he knows his place too well to do so.”

“Perhaps that explains why he supports your eccentricities.”

“Do I embarrass you, Lady Meldon?” Anna had not considered this before and was truly sorry to think she had pained the older woman. If Meldon didn’t mind her riding out dressed as a man, she had assumed it would be acceptable to the rest of the household.

“Of course not
, my dear.” The countess smiled; they had grown close in Meldon’s absence. “There are far worse things you could do, but it might be better if, while there are guests here...”

“Lord
Meldon and I have discussed in detail what would and would not reflect badly on his lordship when the house is full. My riding habit is ready and I will ride Lady Caroline’s mare.”

Anna had been the one to bring it up; Meldon
had not seemed to care, except for her reputation. Anna had replied that someone called Anna Smith could not be expected to have a reputation that needed protecting. He had agreed, since Anna Smith did not exist. Anna would not be drawn. It was not that she did not know how to behave, it was that the moment she showed that she did, Meldon would begin to suspect more than he already did.

“George
is a fool. Your very presence here will reflect badly on him.”

“He knows.”
Anna could say no more. Of course Meldon knew that people would say that she was his mistress and it upset him, but only, she thought, for her sake. She had begged him to let her go away, even suggesting that she live in the hunting lodge while his guests were here, but he had refused. Of course he had refused, a woman could not live alone out there.

“You are well enough to travel,” continued the countess,
“I do not mean to be unkind, my dear, for you have proved to be a good companion and I can see that you esteem my son greatly, but I am hopeful that he will find a bride amongst his guests. He has invited far more people than usual and it is time he married. He is almost thirty and it is unseemly. Yes, Simpson?”

Ann
a turned to see that Meldon’s butler had entered the sitting-room.

“Mr Carstairs
has arrived and wishes to pay his respects to you.”

“Show him in, Simpson. Miss Smith, Mr Carstairs is our neighbour. He is a gentleman and very entertaining. Mr Carstairs, what a pleasure to see you again. My son is away in Kent buying sheep, but our guest, Miss Anna Smith is also here.”

“Lady Meldon, Miss Smith.” Carstairs bowed to each of them in turn.

Anna admired the way he moved. He was possessed of a lazy grace that went well with his good looks. Despite his looks he had what Anna thought of as a face without character. All the proportions were perfect, but there was nothing to mark him out from anyone else with perfect features. Although pleasant to look at whilst he was in the room, they would be forgotten as soon as he left. He dropped into the chair, rather than sat down and Anna recognised a type she had heard of, but not encountered, even in London. He was one of those who followed the whims of fashion – a dandy. His clothing was immaculate and, she thought, rather silly. That he had nothing to do with the land was clear. He could not have walked a mile in his boots and the least speck of dirt would show on his shirt and waistcoat. He was determined to be charming and focused his attention initially on Lady Meldon. When he had finished congratulating her on her good health and enquired after her grandchildren he turned to Anna.

“I have heard of you, of course, Miss Smith. A beautiful woman coming suddenly to a small quiet place like Meldon
excites much talk.”

“It is true
that my arrival must have seemed sudden, but I’m sure the excitement died down after a few days.”

“I
am but newly returned myself and everywhere I find talk of Miss Smith, la belle jeune femme. You are also considered to be very mysterious.”

“
There is very little to say,” said Anna. “I was attacked among strangers and Lord Meldon very generously took me into his home. When I am fully well, I shall leave.”

“And your home, Miss Smith?”

“Is in the Midlands. I have no family now.”

“You travel
alone? Vous êtes toute seule?”

“I have little choice.”

Anna managed to keep the bitterness out her voice, but the speed with which her father’s cousin had taken over the house and made it clear that she was not welcome still pained her.

“With no one to protect you.”

Anna was sure she did not mistake his intent as she had with Meldon. His tone implied that he thought he might be the right man to offer the kind of protection she could not desire.

“For the moment I am the guest of Lord Meldon and the countess. I need nothing more.”

It was the formula that she and Meldon had agreed, but it sounded false. It would almost be easier if she were Meldon’s mistress.

“
Good afternoon, Mother, Miss Smith. Mr Carstairs, I presume.”

Meldon strode into the room still in his riding coat. He bent to kiss his mother on her cheek, smiled at
Anna and bowed to Carstairs.

“And here’s some
tea. Something a bit stronger for me, please, Simpson.”

He eased himself out of his coat and sat next to Anna.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived, Carstairs, but I trust my mother has been entertaining you.”

“Yes, we have passed
a pleasant few minutes.”

“Good. I’ve
never managed to be here when you called before and I was looking forward to meeting you at the ball.”

“Je vous remercie pour l’
invitation. Now that I have met Miss Smith I have even more reason to be grateful for it.”

“Yes, I’m sure that Miss Smith will be a great success with my friends and neighbours.
By the way, Carstairs, I’m aware that it’s considered very fashionable to speak French, but in this house it’s considered an act of treason.”

Anna was sure that the tone of Meldon’s voice had not changed, it was as pleasant as it had been when he had greeted his mother, but his body told a different tale. It was as tense as if he were about to go into battle.
There was an awkward silence, then Carstairs inclined his head slightly to indicate his acquiescence.

“
Oh, quite right, Simpson. I was rude not to have asked Mr Carstairs to join me.”

Meldon took one of the two glasses that
Simpson had brought in on a tray and offered the other to Carstairs.

“I am happy
with the tea, thank you, Lord Meldon. It is a little early in the day for me.”

Only her mother’s training
enabled Anna to stifle her gasp. This stranger was calling Meldon a drunkard in his own house. In a society in which it was usual to drink wine at breakfast, this was an incredible insult. Anna looked at Meldon, fully expecting him to jump up and demand satisfaction. Instead she watched him stretch his long legs out before him and settle back into his chair. He saw her watching and raised his glass to her before he took a long sip. She could not hide her smile from him.

“Early for you, perhaps. I
was on my horse before dawn this morning and it’s cold out.” Meldon’s voice was cool, but his politeness took the edge off his insult.

“Surely you didn’t come from Kent today.”
Carstairs’ voice didn’t falter; hadn’t he realised how close to being called out he had come?

“No, I
visited friends in Sussex last night.”

“
Your letters only arrived this morning. We were discussing them when Mr Carstairs arrived,” said Anna, sensing that Meldon was not comfortable with Carstairs showing so much interest in where he had been.

“When do the sheep arrive?” enquired Carstairs.

“I shall send one of the shepherds to collect them tomorrow, so a week, perhaps two, I should think. Are you interested in sheep, Mr Carstairs?”

“Not in the least.”

“No? Fascinating creatures. Nowhere near as stupid as many people think.”

“I’m sure I’ve
never thought about sheep long enough to have an opinion on the matter.”

“Talking about having opinions based on a little knowledge, I have a present for you, Miss Smith. I had a great deal of difficulty
in bringing it back with me. Simpson, the two bags in the hall, if you please.”

Simpson
returned with a hat box and a large leather pouch.

“The hat box is for Miss Smith. Let me have the other.”

Anna opened the box. To her surprise the bonnet was exactly to her taste.

“Oh, Lord Meldon, thank you.”

“You’re surprised I got it right, aren’t you?”

“A bit,” she admitted. “
It’s beautiful.”