The Heart That Lies (22 page)

Anna ran in through the open door and dropped her still smoking pistol next to Meldon’s body. Then she kne
lt by him and put her cheek to his lips. His breath was faint, but warm against it. Satisfied that he was still alive, she began to pull Carstairs off him. Carstairs was dead; her shot had gone into his head as she had intended. Although not a large man, Carstairs was heavy enough to make moving him difficult and she had no wish to cause more injury to Meldon. There was already a pool of blood on the rug beneath his leg.

“What has happened here?”
Anna didn’t even turn to look at the servant who had come running into the room, although she wondered why he was only appearing now, after the second shot had been fired.

“Mr
Carstairs has shot Lord Meldon and Lord Meldon has killed Mr Carstairs. Bring me water and bandages. Send to Meldon Hall and tell Perkins to bring whatever he needs to deal with Lord Meldon’s wound and to send the carriage.”

“Yes, sir.”

The servant disappeared, to be replaced by another one.

“Help me get Mr Carstairs off him.”

With the man’s help, Anna managed to remove Carstairs. She gave the man she had just killed little thought, except that he was preventing her from helping Meldon. Waving the servant away she undid Meldon’s breeches and eased them carefully down so that she could get to the wound without making it worse. There was a great deal of blood, but it looked as if the ball had gone through the fleshy part of his thigh without encountering any bones. An old scar reminded her that this was the leg where he had received his earlier wound. The scar was a large puckered mess under the fresh blood.

The first
servant returned with the water and bandages. Anna cleaned the wound carefully and inspected it. It continued to bleed, so she bound it as tightly as she could and hoped that it would keep until Perkins arrived. All the time she was conscious of where the first servant was. She wondered what exactly it was that Carstairs had paid him to do.

Once again she
checked that Meldon was still breathing and pulled his shirt down so that he was covered. When she looked up she saw that she was alone with the first servant. She made sure that Meldon’s loaded pistol was in easy reach and then settled down to wait.

It took longer than she had hoped for Perkins to arrive and she was afraid that she must at any moment be asked to give an explanation for her presence here.
When he had entered the house Meldon had been alone, surely the servants would remember that. She had found a window open at the back of the house and followed the sound of voices. Since Meldon had come armed, so had she and she had had sense enough to have her pistol in her hand when she had come into the room.

“Mr Smith, if you would allow me to get where you are, I should be able to help his
lordship.”

“Perkins. Thank God!”
She had had her back to the door and hadn’t heard him enter.

Anna stood so that Perkins could take her place. Someone grabbed her arm and she swung round angrily
, pistol in hand. It was Finch.

“This is no place for you to be,” he
said, trying to lead her out of the room.

“This is exactly where I should be,” she hissed. “Let me go.”

“There’s a dead man here and Meldon is practically naked. And you’re covered in blood.” Anna looked at her hands, they and the sleeves of her shirt were indeed red with Meldon’s blood. She looked Finch squarely in the face so that he would know that she was not going to faint or become hysterical.

“Mr Finch,” said Perkins gently
from the floor. “I think Mr Smith is correct. His help would be invaluable.”

Finch released her, although he looked unhappy about it.
Anna knelt by Meldon.

“You have done a good job with the bandages, sir,” said Perkins. “Was it a clean shot?”

“Yes, I could see no sign of bone in the wound.”

“You washed it?”

“Yes. The water was clean.”

“And the ball
?”

“There are two wounds. I didn’t look for the
ball, but I’m sure it’s not inside him.”

“Then, if you don’t mind my saying so, sir, you have done well.”

Perkins smiled and inclined his head slightly and Anna accepted this high praise. Perkins held his master in the highest esteem and regarded any injury to him as worse than an injury to himself.

“
It looks as if the bandages are secure.” He inspected them once more. “I see no reason why I should remove them here. It would be better to do it once we get his lordship home. As soon as the carriage arrives we can leave.”

Finch paced while they waited and Anna and Perkins made Meldon as comfortable as they could.
Now that she was no longer alone, Anna was fighting off the urge to cry. Only the necessity of keeping up her disguise prevented her.

The carriage arrived eventually and Finch carried Meldon out. Anna got into the carriage first, then Finch and they stretched Meldon out bet
ween them so that Finch kept Meldon’s leg still while Anna rested his head in her lap.

Perkins
sat outside with the coachman, so they were alone in the carriage.

“What happened?” asked Finch quietly
, his earlier anger apparently forgotten.

“Lord Meldon came to see Mr Carstairs and I followed him. They talked for a bit, but I didn’t hear the first part of the
conversation. When I got there Mr Carstairs was threatening Lord Meldon; he wanted some information from him. But Lord Meldon refused to tell him whatever it was he wanted. Then Mr Carstairs shot Lord Meldon and I killed Mr Carstairs.”

“Good God!”

“I’m a very good shot, Mr Finch and I was only about six feet away. But I think we should say that Lord Meldon killed him.”

“
I think you’re right. And how do we explain your presence?”

“Lord Meldon discovered that Mr Carstairs had assaulted me on the terrace, so he went to have it out
with him.  I followed to try to calm him down.”

“Dressed like a man. That won’t do, it won’t do at all.”
Finch tapped his fingers against the carriage door.

“Do we need an explanation just now?”

“The boy you sent roused the whole house. Lady Meldon and Lady Caroline are expecting me to bring back his body. They’ll have noticed by now that you’re gone. Carstairs’ servants might eventually realise how very alike Mr and Miss Smith are.”

“I can’t think about
anything now, except that he’s wounded.”

“I know. I’ll think up a
good story, don’t worry about it.” Finch turned away and looked out of the carriage window into the blackness outside.

“There’s one other thing I think you should know, Mr Finch.
” Anna was hesitant, but Meldon trusted Finch and she thought she could do the same.

Finch turned back to her absently. “What’s that?”

“I didn’t hear much of the conversation, but I think Mr Carstairs must have been a spy for the French and possibly that servant who was in the room when you arrived.”

She had Finch’s full attention now.

“I see. Very well, I’d better do something about that.”

“I might be wrong.”

“You might be. You might be right. Meldon said you notice things, so you’re probably right.”

He turned back to the window, but not before Anna had seen the look on his face, which was one of frustration.

As the carriage arrived at Meldon Hall, Lady Caroline ran down the steps from the main door. The carriage door was open and Finch was already getting out.

“Is he...?”

“He’s badly wounded, but Perkins thinks he’ll be alright.”

“Anna! What...? Never mind
. We were worried about your absence. We should have known you’d be with George.”

Anna followed Finch
into the house and up to Meldon’s bedroom. Lady Caroline and her mother went with them. Perkins suggested tactfully that they should all leave so that he could redress the wound. Lady Meldon protested, but Lady Caroline led her from the room.

The three women and Finch stood in the room where Anna and Meldon had played cards together so often. They waited in silence
, not looking at one another.

The door opened
and Perkins came out. He addressed Lady Meldon. “It is not a life-threatening wound, my lady. He will sleep a while and then he must rest, but he will recover, provided there is no fever.”

“Thank you, Perkins. I shall go and sit with him.”

Lady Caroline took a step towards Lady Meldon. “Mother, perhaps it would be better if Anna sat with him.”

“Anna?” The old lady turned to her
, her eyes widening as she saw for the first time what her guest was wearing. Then she paled. “Yes, I’m sure he’d prefer it at that. Very well, go, but Anna...”

“Yes, Lady Meldon?”

“Wash George’s blood off your hands first.”

Anna looked again at her hands and nodded.

Although Perkins had been perfectly clear that Meldon’s life was not in danger, Anna had remained by his bedside through the night and into the next afternoon. Shortly after dawn he had shouted her name and she had taken his hand and smoothed his forehead before kissing it and whispering, “I’m here.” He had sighed and dropped into an easier sleep.

Feeling that he had invited her to do so, she retained his hand in hers. Even when Mrs Whittaker came in to pull back the curtains she stayed as she was.

When the daylight had revealed her sitting in breeches and a
bloodied shirt the housekeeper had tutted, then sighed and asked whether she wanted breakfast. Although Anna had said no, one of the housemaids appeared shortly thereafter with tea, toast and some cake. Only then did Anna realise that she was both hungry and thirsty and the meal vanished quickly.

Late in the afternoon Meldon
stirred. Even before he opened his eyes he squeezed Anna’s hand and smiled.

“I’m still alive then.”

“You are. Mr Carstairs was a worse shot than you.”

“Miss Smith,” he said, “would you mind helping me to sit up?”

“Perkins said you should not exert yourself.”

“Then help me, so that I won’t
have to.”

“Very well.”

Meldon could almost manage it by himself, but she sat next to him on the bed and put her arms under his shoulders to help him.

“That’s better,” he said, when she had arranged his pillows to support him.

He looked at her now and nodded when he saw her clothes.

“You followed me to Carstairs’ house.”

“Yes. I shot him. I...I killed him.”

“My poor, brave love.” He pulled her to his chest and she came willingly.

“I do not regret killing him,” she mumbled against his nightshirt.

“I should have saved you the necessity.”

Reluctantly she pulled away from him, but her hands still rested on his chest and his on her waist.

“It was not just to save your life, although that was reason enough.”

His lips lifted in an ironic smile; and she remembered that it was only a few weeks ago that she had tried to kill him.

“I am glad to hear that you value my life.” He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek and then returned it to her waist.

Now was not the time to tell him that she valued his life more than her own. Even now she doubted it would please him to hear it.

“My name is
Anna Vincent. James Vincent, Marquis of Wreybourne was my brother.”

She had rendered him speechless. Confusion, then understanding crossed his face.

“Again, I should have saved you the trouble of killing Carstairs. Vincent was my friend. I’m sorry I could not save him.”

“Why did you tell me you had killed him?” She had not meant to ask him now. It seemed cruel while he was at such a disadvantage.

Meldon hesitated and she wondered if he were going to lie to her again. “It seemed a more honourable death for him.” He swallowed. “Are you sure that you want to hear how he really died?”

Anna shook her head. Meldon pulled her back against his chest and held her tight. “Good. I’m not sure I could tell you. I think it is enough that you know that Carstairs was responsible and I was not.”

In her relief Anna cried. James was still dead, but Meldon was not his killer. When she was calmer Anna became aware that he was stroking her hair. She nestled closer and his hand stilled.

“You asked me to kiss you.”

She bit her lip in surprise at this unexpected statement. “Yes.”

“Will you tell me why?”

She sighed; she would have to look him to tell him and she was so comfortable here in his arms.

“Yes, if you wish it.”

His arms did not want to release her.