The Heart That Lies (24 page)

The rumours of the arrangements that reached his ears
via Finch worried him and Anna began to look careworn. Eventually she confessed that the wedding seemed to be becoming more important than their marriage. Meldon was taken aback, but when he asked his mother the following morning to explain what she had planned, he understood and told his mother that, as soon as he was able to ride a horse, he would go to Mr Gossett, ask him to post the banns, then he and Anna would appear in church the day after the third reading with Finch and Mrs Gossett as witnesses.

“That would hardly be appropriate for the Earl of Meldon
and his countess,” said Lady Meldon.

“I should, at least, have a happy bride.”

“She’s the daughter of a marquis, she knows that this is how things are done.”

“Mother, you mean well, but Anna has not found these last few days easy. She is strong, but it would be a kindness to give her her way in this.”
Meldon knew that his mother thought that he had been the one to kill Carstairs, not Anna, and he had no wish to disabuse her.

“George, there is already enough gossip about Anna. Do you want people to say that there was a reason for not having a proper wedding?”

“The gossip, whatever it is, is not true.”

“You know as well as I do that that does not matter. People will say what they want. You brought a Miss Smith here, but now she is Lady Anna Vincent, sister of the late Marquis of
Wreybourne. Why did she hide her true identity? Why is that identity revealed at the same time as you announce your intention to marry her? Why is she marrying the man who killed her brother?”

The last was said in a lowered voice and Meldon saw that this was his mother’s own question.

“There has been a lot of nonsense said about Vincent’s death,” he said slowly.

“I know that it was a fair fight, but for Anna...”

“Mother, James Vincent was my friend and Anna knows that I was his friend to the last. If she is satisfied, can’t you be?”

Lady Meldon held his gaze for a long time. Meldon found that he wanted to look away, but refused to do so.

Eventually she said, “Very well. The wedding will be smaller, but it will be very public.”

“Then we will both be happy.”

In many ways he had been right about the effect that killing a man would have on Jonas Smith.
Since she had killed Carstairs Anna had stopped writing and sometimes, when she was sewing, he would look up from his book to see that her hands were still and her gaze focused on nothing. During those moments he would not interrupt her, but watch until she came back to herself. If he was close enough he placed his hand close to hers so that she might take it if she needed it. Sometimes she grasped it with a sigh, at others she stroked it gently as if he were the one in need of comfort.

“It is a hard thing to take a life,” he said to her one day
.

“Even for a soldier?”

“Even for a soldier.”

Anna took one of his hands and brought it to her lips. He left off his gloves these days, for there were many such occasions.

“You have killed many men, haven’t you?”

“Yes. Even though I know that each one was necessary and made England safer, it seems to me that I am less of a man than I was before.”

“Yet you are whole and complete.”

It seemed to be more a question than a statement, so he said what she wanted to hear.
“When I am with you.”

“Then accept that I will be whole and complete with you.”

Anna leaned forward and kissed him, but he was not placated.

Despite the almost constant company of Anna, Meldon grew bored quickly with sitting in his room. He had too much time to think and not enough to think about. For the last few weeks his mind had been occupied with who had killed Vincent and why Anna had wanted to kill him, now that he knew the answer to both questions he could only think about their future. The day after he had proposed to Anna he had written to General Warren and resigned from the service, confident that the old soldier would make no protest. He had met Anna and must know that it would be impossible to keep such a secret from her. Meldon was tired of lying to her and wanted nothing more than to stop.

Anna was his first and last thought every day. Although she had proven herself very self-sufficient, to say nothing of single-minded, h
e wanted to give her the security she had lost when her brother had been killed. He had coaxed out of her the tale of the cousin who had inherited Vincent’s estate and knew that her life as Jonas Smith had not entirely been necessitated by the desire for revenge. He also understood her desire to marry, even someone as unsuitable as Carstairs.

“Would you have married Finch?” he asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Yes, for he is a kind and loyal man. He never intended that we should marry, however.”

“No, he sought
only to force my hand.”

“He has been a good friend to both of us.”

“Then why do I find it so hard to forgive him?”

“Forgive him? He did everything for you.”
Anna laid a hand on one of his.

“Perhaps that is why. I did so little for myself.”

“I understand why you could do no more.”

“Do you? I don’t. If I had risked your refusal I should have had certainty.”

Anna kissed him. “Do you have certainty now?”

His only answer was an even more possessive kiss
.

“Did you know that James wanted us to
marry?” she asked as she pulled away from him.

“No.”

“He respected you immensely. He planned that we would meet at his wedding.”

Meldon stroked her cheek gently. “It would have been much simpler that way, wouldn’t it?”

“Do you think so? I wonder if the Marquis of Wreybourne’s sister would have made as much of an impact as Jonas Smith.”

Meldon thought of Anna with her hair arranged in a feminine style with a few tight ringlets curling down her neck
and wearing a light summer gown.

“I’m afraid, my love, that she would have been irresistible. I would have proposed there and then and eloped with you for fear that your brother would turn me down.”

Anna laughed.

One day he steeled himself to ask Anna the question that had been troubling him since he had realised that he loved her.

“You told me once that you were in love with a man.”

Anna looked up from her embroidery. “Yes?”

“A man with fine hands.”

“And a good character.” He thought her smile was wistful. “I remember.”

“Do you...?” Meldon shifted awkwardly in his chair. “Do you love him still?”

Anna sighed and put down her fabric and needle. She crossed the small space between them and settled herself in his lap. Although afraid of what she might say, he accepted her and put his arms around her. She kissed him gently and he feared even more what she might say when it was over.

After a while she pulled back from him.

“Yes, I love him still,” she said quietly. “I have never stopped loving him.”

When he would have said something she placed a finger on his lips.

“His are the hands that hold me now and, because of his good character, he has kept me safe these last few months. You are that man, George. I have never loved another.”

Meldon was surprised
by the relief that overcame him.

“You must think me a fool for fearing otherwise.
”

“I am the fool. I could have told you that I loved you many times
.”

“As could I. I should have done so.”

She kissed him again.

“I think you did tell me many times, but I just didn’t understand. You brought me here when you could have left me with Caro. You opened yourself up to gossip to keep me near and safe. I don’t expect your mother gave you an easy time of it.”

“No, although she knew from the start what I intended. And I did intend to marry you.”

“Did you?” She buried her face in his neck. “From the first time we met I knew you were an honourable man.”

.

By the beginning of December the weather was wet enough to keep them indoors unless they had to be out. Meldon was now well enough to be able to ride and Anna accompanied him each morning. They returned cold and wet and sat down to breakfast without changing. Mindful of her future status as the Countess of Meldon, Anna had packed away Jonas Smith’s clothes and wore her riding habit each morning. She thought Meldon was disappointed to have seen the last of Jonas Smith, but he never mentioned it if he was.

One afternoon, when Anna was in the library staring at a blank
piece of paper, a visitor was announced to her. It was Mr Rivers from Staffordshire. Anna looked at the card and had a faint memory that this was a friend of James’. She sent Simpson to find out whether Lord Meldon would object to her receiving a visitor in the library. The message came back that his lordship did not object, but that he would be delayed and unable to join them for a quarter of an hour or so. The countess had driven out to visit an old friend alone and Finch was nowhere to be found, so Anna received Mr Rivers alone, glad both to be diverted from her inability to put words onto a piece of paper and to meet a friend of James. He was a short, ordinary looking young man, dressed plainly, without flair or good taste.

“Mr Rivers, I believe you knew my brother.”

“I did, Lady Anna, and it is for his sake that I am come here.” Anna smiled faintly at the familiar Staffordshire accent, but wondered how such a man had come to be a friend of her brother’s. His accent betrayed not only his place of birth, but his low rank.

Rivers continued,
“There was no word of you after your brother’s funeral until news of your engagement to Lord Meldon reached London. I set off immediately for I had become concerned for your safety.”

Anna almost blushed for his rudeness. She had never met the man and was not his responsibility, yet he seemed to wish to take her care upon himself.
She would not tell Meldon about this part of the conversation, when they discussed it later, for fear of what he might do.

“I am well, as you can see
,” she replied. “Surely a letter would have sufficed.”

“No, I had to see you in
person. There was much about Lord Wreybourne’s death that did not make sense. There was a rumour that Lord Meldon had killed him, so I was greatly surprised to discover that you were here and about to marry him.”

“
By choice I know very little about the circumstances of my brother’s death, but I am satisfied that Lord Meldon was not at fault.” Even now, Anna could not bring herself to say that Meldon had had nothing to do with James’ death. There were many things that she knew he hid from her, whether to protect her or himself she could not say.

Rivers nodded thoughtfully. “Of course. You could not marry the man responsible for your brother’s death.”

Anna shuddered as she remembered how she had once intended doing just that.

“How did you know my brother?” she asked, wishing to turn the conversation onto a happier subject.

“We were at Oxford together. I was sponsored by your father out of gratitude for something my father had done for him many years ago. An act that cost him his life. Lord Wreybourne gave a pension to my mother and then gave me the money to go to Oxford. Your brother was there at the same time. I would not say that we were close friends, but we were friends. I was close enough to him to know that he trusted you.”

Anna smiled, but Rivers did not.
She wondered why neither James nor their father had mentioned Rivers and the debt owed for his father’s action.

“Lady Anna, did Lord
Wreybourne send you anything before his death?”

Anna was about to comment on his impertinence, but realised what it was he wanted
and why. There was nothing she could use as a weapon here, but if she could get into Meldon’s room, she knew where Meldon kept his pistols. They were always loaded; her own were not.

“Yes, he did
,” she said at last, her plan made. “It made no sense to me. Why do you ask?”

“Because
, if they are papers, they are, perhaps, something that could be of enormous use to this country in the war against France.”

If the man were on the right side, he would know that the papers were already safe; General Warren had taken them
with him to London in November.

“How...? Never
mind. If you say they are important, then they are and you must see them. They are in my lord’s rooms above. We thought they would be safer there.”

“Lord Meldon has seen them?”

Anna bit her lip, at her error, then smiled. “He has seen a box and he knows it contains papers left to me by my brother. He does not ask to see them, only that I speak to him if I find they contain anything that troubles me or requires advice.” Anna hoped that this would sound like the position of a concerned, but liberal fiancé. “I have looked at them myself, but can make no sense of them.” This was indeed true. Anna had been disappointed that James had not hidden something more interesting in the tree. She had expected love letters from Harriet and had found nonsense.

Rivers nodded. “Lord Meldon is perhaps a little more liberal than his reputation allows.”

“But not, I think, scandalously so. Shall we go?” There was no point waiting here for Meldon; she suspected Rivers was armed and Meldon was unarmed. There would be nothing he could do.

They left the library and went up the stairs, passing Simpson. If the butler thought it odd that his master’s
fiancée should be going upstairs with a strange man, he gave no sign.

As they entered
Meldon’s sitting-room, Anna realised that it was not empty. Meldon was taking off his plain waistcoat, obviously preparing to change into the more decorated one that lay on the chair where Perkins had laid it out in order to greet Anna’s visitor. He smiled when he saw Anna, although he also looked a little surprised. They still spent some time alone together, but it was usually by appointment and never, now that he was better, in this room. Then he saw Rivers.

“Who the devil are you, sir? And why are you in my room?”

Rivers immediately pulled Anna close against him and pressed a knife against her throat, pushing the door shut as he did so. Now she knew that her guess had been correct. Meldon didn’t move, but watched Rivers carefully.

“Lady Anna says there’s a box of documents in this room.”

“I see,” said Meldon and Anna knew that he understood the situation completely. “What business is that of yours?”

“Best not to ask any questions. That way you’re more likely to leave this room alive.”

“I see,” said Meldon again.

Anna looked at the place where the loaded
pistols should have been, but it was empty. As her eyes returned to Meldon’s face he shook his head gently.

“
Whatever you want, you won’t achieve it by threatening Lady Anna. Let her go.”

“No. Get the box and give me the documents.”

“I can’t do that.” Meldon’s voice was sad, but firm.

“Then Lady Anna will die.”

Meldon nodded slowly.

“You’re an agent of the French, aren’t you?” whispered
Anna, more to show Meldon that she, too, understood what was happening, than because she needed to hear the answer.

Rivers tightened his grip on her.
“I told you, the fewer questions you ask, the more likely it is you will be alive tomorrow.”

Anna doubted that she would leave the room alive, but Meldon might. As much as she could,
she drew herself up and looked straight into Meldon’s eyes.

“
My lord, I care little for myself, but if you do not kill this man, I shall consider you a traitor. If it means my own death, well, I would rather die by your hand than his.” She had no idea how he would do it, but she trusted him to think of something.

Meldon smiled. “You
, my lady, have proven yourself even more honourable than I could have hoped.”

He bent
quickly and reached his hand to the top of his boot. Before Anna or Rivers could react he had straightened and thrown a knife into Rivers’ eye. Rivers fell forward, taking Anna with him to the floor. Before they reached it, Rivers was dead.

Meldon pulled the
body off her and caught her up into his arms.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m alive and so are you. It’s enough.” Then she began to sob.

Meldon kissed her and
stroked her hair. Then he examined her neck, where he found a thin trickle of blood. He wiped it away with his thumb and there was no more. He breathed out his relief and took her into his arms again. For a while they stood like this, then Anna became aware of what had happened.

“You killed him with a knife!”

“You were in no danger. I may not be any use with a pistol, but I never miss my aim with a knife.”

“But why would you...?”

“I was a soldier, my love; I learned many ways to kill. Some I was good at, others...”

“What shall we do now?”

“You will come and sit over here,” Meldon pulled her to the chair and pushed her into it gently. “We will each drink some whisky.” He poured some into a glass and they took it in turns to sip from it.

After a while Meldon said,
“Now, I think we need Finch.”

“Mr Finch? What can he do?”

“You’d be surprised. He has hidden talents.”

“Was he a sold
ier, too?”

“No, but he has learned a few useful tricks
, although it is best not to ask how or why. I must leave you alone while I find him. There is a key in the lock. Turn it when I leave and open it again only when you know it’s me on the other side.”

Anna
nodded and stood. She wobbled slightly and Meldon caught her around the waist.

“I’m so very sorry that you have been part of this.”

“I don’t even know what it is that I’ve been part of.”

Meldon looked away briefly.

“Something unpleasant,” he said as he led her to the door.

“Lock it,” he said as he opened it and left her alone with the dead man.

Anna obeyed. Rather than turn around and look at the body, she fixed her eyes on the door handle. It was not long before someone knocked and called out softly, “It’s me.”

She unlocked the door and let them in. Meldon at once held her against his side, while Finch nodded at her distractedly and went to examine the body.

“That was a good throw, Meldon,” he commented.

“It couldn’t have been
anything else. Anna’s head was two inches away from his eye.”

Finch stood. “We need to get rid of the body, but he also needs to be seen leaving
the house, otherwise more agents will appear wanting the contents of that box.”

Anna was surprised that Meldon had managed to give him so much information in
such a short time.

“I’ll put his coat on a
nd ride away on his horse.”

“Meldon, he’s shorter than I am. You could never pass
for him. I might, but...”

“I’ll do it,” said Anna.

“No!” said Meldon.

“Yes,” said Finch
, looking at her as if measuring her courage. She swallowed nervously, but didn’t look away from him. “He’s not much taller than you. The coat would be big on you. Did you see his horse?”

“No, but it should be no more difficult for me to mount it than it was for him.”

“No, you won’t do this.”

Anna turned round to look at
Meldon. “You would not look enough like him and Mr Finch obviously has something else that he must do.” She tried not to think what that might be.

“Lady Anna, he was an agent for
the French who would have killed you and Meldon.” Finch paused. He seemed to be avoiding looking at Meldon. “I can’t go, because I am going to dispose of his body so that it won’t be found. Meldon can’t do that because his ... well, his latest injury would make it difficult.”

Anna knew that she turned pale.
Despite Meldon’s admonition not to, she asked, “How do you know how to do something like that?”

Finch smiled. “I have a good imagination.”

None of this seemed to surprise Meldon, but Anna was confused. “Very well,” she said, although nothing about this situation was good.

“Now, let me think.” Finch paced about the room
for a few minutes. “This is what we will do. Please tell me if you see a flaw in the plan. Lady Anna, you will put on Rivers’ coat, get on his horse and ride to Southampton. You will take a room at the Dolphin in the name of Rivers and sell the horse, also in the name of Rivers. In the morning you will take the coach to Botley, then walk back here. Tomorrow morning, Meldon will go into the yard, shouting at you as if you have had an argument.”

“Where am I this evening?”

“Ill?” suggested Finch.