Marrying Miss Hemingford (13 page)

‘Of course she does. Everyone in Brighton does.'

‘I'll wager she does not know you jilted me.'

‘I am hardly likely to noise that abroad, am I? Especially when it isn't true.'

‘The world thinks it is.'

‘Not my world, not the one I live in now.'

‘But they could find out.'

‘You would tell them?'

‘I do not need to. You know what gossips are like. They know my name, they saw you run when I arrived, their curiosity will be whetted, they will not rest until they have dug out the whole sorry episode…'

Justin's heart sank. She would cause trouble, he knew it. His brother ought to have curbed her, made her see that it was better to let sleeping dogs lie, not wake them up to bark all over town. ‘Where is Andrew?' he asked.

‘Where would he be but at home in Sevenelms?'

‘He let you travel alone?' he queried in surprise.

‘He could not stop me. He wants you home.'

‘To salve his conscience, no doubt.' He had left home to ease their path, but that evidently had not been enough, though what else he could have done he did not know.

‘I did not think you would be so bitter.'

‘Bitter!' He found himself shouting and lowered his voice. ‘Have I not grounds for bitterness? I lost not only the woman I hoped to marry and the love I had for my brother, but my home and my good name. That hurt most of all, and going back will not cure that, it will make matters worse. Now please leave me. Return to Sevenelms and tell them you could not persuade me.'

‘You will change your mind.' She smiled, a feline smile that made him think of a purring cat, pretending not to see the mouse, but ready to pounce as soon as it dropped its guard. Well, she would learn that he was no mouse and she could no longer wind him round her thumb as she had used to do.

He had been a fool; she had used him to get close to his brother and now she was trying to use him again. But for what purpose? What did she hope to gain? She would never risk the scandal that leaving her husband would bring about. Rank, consequence, status, whatever it was called, were of prime importance to her. It was why she had left him for his brother in the first place. So, what was she after? She already had everything.

‘Go home,' he said wearily. ‘There is nothing for you here.'

‘I will go if you come too. Then everyone will realise you have been forgiven and we are a united family again.
We could—' she stopped when she saw his ferocious look, then added quickly ‘—be friends.'

‘No.'

‘Then I shall just have to stay here until you change your mind.'

‘I am unlikely to do that.' He opened the door to indicate the interview was at an end. ‘I am afraid I am too busy to escort you to your hotel.'

‘Oh, do not trouble yourself over it, Grimes is waiting with the carriage at the end of the street.'

He conducted her to the street door, more to make sure she left than out of courtesy. She turned on the step and, reaching up, put her arms about him and kissed him on the lips. For a single moment in time, his memory conjured up the emotion he had felt when she had first kissed him. He had gone to London for the Season, not particularly to look for a wife, but simply to enjoy himself and see what the capital had to offer. She had recently had her come-out and was much in demand, being beautiful and bright with an engaging manner, and he had soon become enamoured and determined to make her his wife. When the opportunity arose to escort her to a prestigious ball to celebrate some naval victory, he seized it joyously. After supper they had strolled in the grounds of the mansion where it was being held and he had proposed. It was then she had flung her arms about his neck and kissed him, making him the happiest man in the kingdom.

For that split second of time, he was young again and she was the embodiment of his dreams. He felt himself respond to the pressure of her lips, felt the warmth flood through him and was ashamed of his reaction. He pushed
her angrily away, aware of her smile of triumph. ‘I knew you had not forgotten,' she said softly.

‘Go!' he said. ‘Leave me alone.'

‘I am sure you do not mean that, Justin dear,' she said. Then she laughed and turned to go, calling over her shoulder, ‘You will come round, I have no doubt of it.'

When she had gone, he breathed a huge sigh of relief and went back to his office, where he collapsed into the chair by his desk, pale and shaking. How could he have allowed her to pierce his guard? And the worst of it was knowing she had contrived it very skilfully. It was bad enough having to quit his premises, having to beg for funds to keep him going, without the added worry of wondering what Sophie was plotting and why. If the old gossip reached Brighton, he might as well say goodbye to his hospital. And Miss Anne Hemingford's good opinion. He composed himself and rang the bell for his next patient.

 

Anne had decided to take a dip in the sea while her aunt was out, but the intrepid early bathers had gone and only the fashionable matrons were splashing about at the edge of the surf. If she had hoped to encounter the doctor again, she was disappointed. She did not stay long in the water, but on coming out saw Mrs Smith and Tildy beside one of the other machines and went over to speak to them.

‘Hallo, lady,' Tildy called to her.

‘Hallo.' Anne smiled and squatted down beside the child and took her bony hands. ‘I see you have lost your turban.'

‘Yes. I am better now.'

‘Thanks to you and Dr Tremayne,' Mrs Smith added.

‘Have you seen him lately?'

‘Two days ago. He came to check on Tildy and look at a cut on my husband's hand. He's always cutting himself; his hands get cold, you see, when he's using a knife. This time the cut became infected on account of handling that putrefying monster…'

‘Oh, dear, poor man. Did you ever discover what it was?'

‘No, but I'm sorry the lady fainted. I hope she recovered.'

‘Yes, she is perfectly well. Did you raise a lot of money?'

‘Seven pounds. The doctor did not want to take it, but I insisted.'

‘You heard about his house being pulled down?'

‘Yes. Dreadful it is. I don't know what we will do without him.'

‘Perhaps it won't come to that. Some of us are planning to raise funds to help him. If we raise enough, we hope to provide a proper hospital and other doctors to help him.'

‘That is wonderful news, miss.'

Anne bade them both goodbye and left them, more determined than ever to put aside her personal feelings for the good of the community. Having been the one to suggest the hospital, she could not now stand by while others did the work. She must steel herself to meet the doctor to discuss the practicalities. Nothing could be done without consulting him. Deciding there was no time like the present, she crossed the road, making for the doctor's house.

She was just in time to see Mrs Tremayne emerge, followed by the doctor and, as her footsteps slowed and
stopped, she witnessed that kiss. She was too far away to hear what was said, but she did not need to hear the words. That kiss was not one given and received by an estranged couple, far from it. Turning on her heel, she stumbled away.

 

Aunt Bartrum was delighted with the new park phaeton. It had her widow's lozenge painted on the doors— the Bartrum coat of arms enclosed in a diamond shape—dark blue velvet upholstery and two matched bays to draw it. The Major had even helped her to hire a man to act as groom and coachman. ‘We are all set to go where we please now,' she told Anne. ‘I shall drive it myself to Captain Gosforth's this afternoon.'

Anne, who had returned home and spent the rest of the morning writing to Harry and Jane and to Professor Harrison, was feeling calmer and more in command of her emotions. What she had witnessed had finally brought her to her senses. She was a spinster and would remain one and falling in love at her age was the height of folly. She would never have children of her own and so she must make do with other people's. Her nephew she adored, but he had parents who could provide all the love and comfort he needed. There were others not so fortunate and she would devote her life to those.

She went outside to inspect the new carriage. ‘Do you think you can manage it?'

‘Of course, I can. You are not afraid to ride with me, are you?'

‘Of course not! Besides, I shall hope to take the ribbons myself for part of the journey.'

Using prize money he had earned while in the navy, Captain Gosforth had bought a solid manor house ten miles inland from Brighton. It had a substantial acreage used for crops and a vast tract of down land on which he grazed sheep, whose wool and meat were in great demand. He called himself a farmer, but Anne was sure he had never done a day's labour in his life; he had stewards and labourers to do it for him. As far as Aunt Bartrum was concerned, that was a virtue. ‘He is a gentleman of excellent pedigree,' she told Anne as they bowled along in the late summer sunshine.

‘Related to Lord Downland, I collect you said, though I have never heard of him.'

‘His lordship may not be one of the top one hundred, but it is an old established family and not one to be ashamed of.'

‘And do you prefer him to Major Mancroft?'

‘My preferences are not to be considered, Anne. You must make up your own mind.'

‘Oh, I have.'

‘Already? Pray do not be hasty, let them dangle a little longer.'

Anne laughed. Having strange and convoluted conversations with her aunt over her two suitors was infinitely preferable to thinking about Dr Tremayne and his elegant wife. It was certainly more amusing. ‘It is not me they are dangling after, but you, Aunt.'

‘Do not be ridiculous, Anne.'

‘Is it so ridiculous?'

‘Of course it is. I will not hear another word on the subject. Now see, you have made me lose my concentration
and the horses are all over the place.' She pulled ineffectually on the reins as the skittish beasts decided to go their own way. ‘My, they are strong, too strong for me.'

Anne took the ribbons from her and skilfully pulled the horses up. ‘There, they are calmer now, do you want to take over again?'

‘No, you take them. We are nearly there.'

Anne turned in at the gates of Bracken Farm and drew up behind a row of other carriages. Walter, who had been watching for them, hurried forward to open the carriage door and let down the step. ‘Good day to you, ladies, I trust you had an uneventful ride, though there was no need to go to the expense of obtaining a carriage. I would have been delighted to send my coach for you.'

‘I fancied my own conveyance,' Aunt Bartrum said, taking his hand and stepping down. ‘I like to drive myself, you know. I often did when we were at home and my dear Bartrum was alive.'

‘In that case, why did you not ask me to assist you in its procurement?'

‘Major Mancroft was free and you were no doubt occupied in arranging today's amusements,' she said lightly. ‘I did not want to drag you into town needlessly.'

‘It would have been a pleasure, ma'am.'

‘Then I shall certainly call on you next time I need help, Captain.' She gave Anne a look which that young lady could only interpret as defiant. ‘Perhaps my niece has a commission for you.'

‘Delighted to oblige,' he said, turning to Anne.

‘I shall think of something,' she promised him, trying not to laugh.

Walter, as a senior naval officer, had been used to organising people and making sure everything ran smoothly and he put his talents to good use on this occasion. Mounts were provided for Aunt Bartrum and Anne and those of his guests who wished to ride to the venue. Small vehicles were organised for the elderly and those of a more timid nature, and they set off in convoy to the spot he had chosen for their picnic, where a wagon packed with good food, wine and cordial had been dispatched ahead with servants to lay it all out.

‘Oh, the air is so clear up here,' Anne said to the Captain, as they rode side by side. They were high up on the Downs and she could see the sea sparkling in the distance, though Brighton itself was hidden by folds in the hills. Down there, the man she loved was probably working, looking after his poor patients. But what of the woman she had seen leaving his house? Superbly gowned in a long feather-decorated pelisse and a matching hat, she had looked out of place in that setting. Anne could not see her living there, supporting the doctor in his work. But perhaps she was about to take him away from it. Would that make fund-raising pointless? But thinking of Tildy and all those poor people in the waiting room told her it could not be pointless, even if they had to find other doctors.

Her aunt was riding slowly, deep in conversation with Major Mancroft, no doubt talking at cross-purposes, as she seemed to be doing more and more lately. The Captain, left out in the cold, was endeavouring to interest Anne in the countryside through which they passed, waving his hand to encompass the landscape. ‘All in good heart,' he was saying. ‘I can offer Mrs Bartrum a comfortable life, if she were to consent to be my wife.'

Anne pulled herself back to pay attention. ‘Have you asked her?'

‘No, not yet. I plan to do so very soon. Do you think I may hope for a happy outcome?'

‘I truly cannot say, Captain. I know she holds you in high esteem, but as a husband…' She paused. ‘I think she will be taken by surprise…'

‘Surely not? I have never attempted to hide my intentions.'

Anne smiled. ‘There are none so blind as those who will not see.'

‘Whatever do you mean by that, Miss Hemingford?'

‘She is a widow who loved her husband; perhaps she has convinced herself that marrying again will betray his memory and so she is denying her true feelings.'

‘I suppose you may be right. I often think about my poor Lucy, but life must go on and grieving will not bring them back. I am lonely, Miss Hemingford, and I think Mrs Bartrum must be too. We are two mature people who could deal very well with each other.'