by Wilma Counts
“Pooh.” Meghan heard her snap her fingers. “I care that much for such silly conventions.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But I am quite sure your parents—especially your mama—have a much healthier respect for the niceties by which society lives.” Meghan heard a movement and thought he was moving toward the door.
There was the sound of a swishing skirt and then the girl’s throaty voice. “Oh, but Justin, my darling, do you not welcome the opportunity to be alone with me?”
Meghan sank lower on the settee. Why had she not let him know immediately that she was here? What an embarrassment for everyone if she revealed herself now!
“Miss Hamlin. Georgiana.” His voice sounded muffled. Meghan thought he might be trying to disentangle himself from the girl.
“Do you not want to kiss me?” Miss Hamlin sounded as though she were pouting now. “Our kiss at the ball the other night held such promise. . . .”
“Miss Hamlin. Please.” Again, his voice sounded muffled. “You misunderstand. That was not . . . that is to say . . . no one takes such matters seriously.”
Is that so? Meghan thought, but she held her breath and hoped he would make his escape soon, since that did seem to be what he intended.
Suddenly the library door banged open and the abrasive voice of Lady Hamlin was heard. “I say. Exactly what is going on here? Georgiana? Lord Justin?”
“Oh, Mama . . . I . . . . Justin and I were merely . . .”
“ ‘Justin’ is it? You were merely what? I am shocked by your behavior. I hope you are planning to offer for her, Lord Justin, after leading an innocent into such appalling indiscretion. This conduct is most distasteful.”
“Offer for her?” Justin’s voice sounded strangled. “Why, she has been here less than five minutes. Even I need longer than that for what you apparently have in mind.”
“How am I to know how long the two you have been closeted alone together?” Lady Hamlin asked.
“Oh, Justin, I fear we are truly caught, my love,” Georgiana cried in a voice not entirely devoid of triumph.
Meghan flinched at the sound of what seemed to be a fist being slammed against solid wood. “Now, see here,” Justin growled, “I have no intention of offering for your daughter, madam. Even had I seriously entertained any such idea before, this little scene would have surely scotched it.”
“Please, Justin, darling,” Georgiana pleaded. “I shall be ruined. And we could be so happy. . . .”
“Happy?” He sounded disgusted. “I could be happy with a scheming little trollop? I think not, miss.”
“Mama!”
Lady Hamlin’s voice was hard and threatening. “I believe you will want to rethink your decision, Lord Justin. After all, your brother’s position with the current government is not exactly sound. My husband’s standing in the House of Lords could very easily thwart any of Lord Everleigh’s reformist plans. Not to mention that my brother, Lord Angley, has the prime minister’s ear.”
Before Justin could reply, Meghan decided she had heard quite enough. She stood, knocking one of her books to the floor with a loud thud.
“I think,” she said with scathing looks at mother and daughter, “that once word of this tawdry little plot reaches the ears of the prime minister or anyone in Lords, you will have made your husband and father the laughingstock of the political world.”
Lady Hamlin was shocked into mere sputtering. Georgiana kept opening and closing her mouth.
“Moreover,” Meghan continued, “I doubt either of you would find yourselves welcomed in many ton drawing rooms.”
Georgiana finally found her voice. “Justin! You were in here with her?”
“Well, I never!” Lady Hamlin huffed. “Come, Georgiana.”
The two Hamlin women left the room, one in high dudgeon and the other with a wistful backward look. The door slammed shut behind them.
Justin was momentarily speechless. Then he looked at Meghan, who still had the fire of battle in her eyes. God! she is magnificent, he thought, noting her determined stance and the spots of color on her cheeks. He clapped his hands, applauding her.
“Brava! I could have handled that, but not quite so expeditiously, perhaps.”
Suddenly the whole scene seemed to hit her and she looked sheepish. “I . . . uh . . . It is just that I do detest a bully—and they did seem to be trying to bully you.”
“I had no idea you were back there.”
“I . . . I was about to make myself known to you when Miss Hamlin came in. And then I did not want to embarrass any of us.” She turned slightly away.
He strode over to her and touched her shoulder. She turned, and with a small cry, she was suddenly in his arms. He held her in a tight embrace, her head just under his chin. Finally, he lifted her head to gaze into her eyes. He marveled at what a truly beautiful color gray could be.
“You were wonderful. My lady knight in shining armor,” he whispered and lowered his mouth to hers. Georgiana was right, he thought. That kiss at the ball was just a promise, for Meghan was searing herself into his very soul with her response.
When he pulled away, he was breathing heavily and she seemed disconcerted.
“Should I apologize—again?” he asked, holding her gaze.
“No. This was my fault as much as yours. But it must not happen again.”
So. She did have an understanding with Layton. Yet she had returned his kiss as though she meant it. Perhaps her response was merely the aftermath of an emotional scene, though. He suppressed a flash of disappointment at that idea.
“Come,” he said. “I think we need to tell Irene what transpired here. She and Robert may be counted on to control any damage done by the Hamlin women.”
They found Irene in her sitting room. She laughed aloud at their tale of Meghan’s rescue.
“You were miscast in that school play, Meghan,” Irene said with another gurgle of laughter. “You should have been Robin Hood, not the meek maid Marian.”
“It is all well and good for you to have a hearty laugh, dear sister-in-law, mine, but what can be done to forestall the damage those two females may wreak?”
“Never mind,” Irene said airily. “Lady Hamlin was just here. She told me Hamlin has received a message of an emergency at home and they will be leaving within the hour, despite the weather.”
Justin waved his hand in a gesture of impatience. “Their leaving here today will not preclude their besmirching Meghan’s name in town.”
Irene rose. “I rather think I can prevent that.”
“How?” he challenged.
“Lady Hamlin will be reminded that Sally Jersey is a close friend of mine. If she wants her daughter to continue to be admitted to the exclusive precincts of Almack’s next season . . .”
He looked from Irene to Meghan and grinned. “Blackmail and extortion. Remind me not to cross you two in future.”
Meghan knew the search for the missing kitten had continued. She visited the playroom briefly before dinner to find Joy still immersed in silence. She had been offered another kitten but refused it.
After dinner the company in the drawing room was somewhat subdued. The snow had begun again, so much of the conversation centered on the weather. There were some whispers of curiosity about the departure of the Hamlins, but everyone accepted—or pretended to accept—the explanation that had been given.
When the gentlemen rejoined the ladies, Justin was not with them. He came in a few minutes later and drifted toward the group that included Meghan. He looked concerned. She turned away from the others to give him an inquiring look.
“I have just come from bidding Joy good night,” he told her.
“Still nothing of Snowflake?” she asked softly.
“Nothing. One of the grooms thought he saw that particular kitten, but he could not be sure.”
“This is the second day,” she observed.
“I know. And I promised her it would be found.”
“Has she . . . said anything yet?”
“No.” His eyes took on an even bleaker look. “She believes the kitten disappeared because she was bad.”
“Did she misbehave?”
“Not that I know of. But that is what she thought about her mother’s leaving, too. In some ways this is worse—because it is such a setback.”
“Oh, Justin, I am so sorry.” She placed a hand on his forearm and gave it a sympathetic squeeze.
“Thank you.” He patted her hand and the physical contact sent a flood of warmth through her.
As she rejoined the group and Justin took up a thread of conversation with someone else, she saw Layton glance quizzically from her to Justin and back.
Later, when Meghan had retired, she was again reading in bed when she heard the now familiar sound at her door.
“Oh, Joy, darling, you should be in your own bed.”
Joy just stood there looking forlorn and shook her head no.
Meghan sighed and stepped back. “Very well. It would take a far harder heart than mine to refuse you.”
Meghan tugged the bellpull and when a maid answered the summons, she sent word to the nursery and to Justin that Joy had again slipped the nursery bonds.
“At least they will know where you are this time,” she muttered as she went back to bed. Joy snuggled close to her and Meghan felt such a flood of affection for the little girl that her eyes began to water. Shaking her head, she placed a comforting arm around the child. “I do not know how you have achieved it,” she murmured, “but you—and your father—have certainly managed to upset my emotional applecart! ”
The next morning the nursery maid came to Meghan’s room to fetch Joy just as though it were a routinely natural thing to do.
The snowstorm during the night had turned the world of Everleigh into a wonderland. Children’s sleds appeared from storage in the lumber room. A dependable draft horse was hitched to an ancient sleigh and kept busy for much of the day, providing sightseeing trips around the grounds.
The children with the sleds and a number of adults reported to a hill some distance from the manor house. With a silent tug, Joy had insisted that Meghan join the sledding expedition. The child glanced at her from time to time, as if to reassure herself that Meghan was still there. Justin, along with Robert and another father, had been recruited to pull the sleds loaded with children.
Irene, who walked at Meghan’s side, said, “Joy has become very attached to you.”
“I know,” Meghan said. “And while that is very flattering, it is also worrisome.”
“Do you find her presence annoying, then?”
“Oh, no. Never. I have grown very fond of Joy. But what happens when I return to the city and drop out of her life, too?”
“What is to say that you must do so?” Irene asked. “In any event, your return is weeks away yet. Much can happen in that time.”
The sledding hill was located near a fruit orchard, which the group now approached. A dark evergreen forest formed a backdrop for the orchard. The sun had emerged to create a world of rich black shadows against the sparkling snow. Justin came up beside Irene and Meghan, breathing hard from the exertion of pulling a sled with three children on it uphill. As Irene set about the business of organizing the children to take turns sliding down the hill, he and Meghan were somewhat apart from the others.
“Even leafless, these trees are beautiful,” Meghan said conversationally. “Just look at the marvelous designs their shadows create on the snow!”
“ ‘Bare ruined choirs,’ ” Justin quoted.
“ ‘Where late the sweet birds sang,’ ” Meghan finished, delighted that he had thought of the line. “That is one of my favorite sonnets.”
“It is a melancholy thing, dealing as it does with old age,” Justin said.
“No,” she argued. “It is really quite positive, for it deals with the enduring power of love.”
“Do you believe in that?”
“In what?”
“The enduring power of love.”
“I think” she said slowly, “that we would all like to believe in it.”
“ ‘Tis a fantasy, then?”
“For some.” And some of us have the fantasy destroyed by betrayal, she thought, but there was no point in bringing that bit of ugliness into such a marvelous day.
By now Irene and Robert had the adventure fully organized and Justin was to be a “pusher,” to give the sled extra momentum as it started down the low hill.
Waiting her turn, Joy came to stand near Meghan, a bit to the side of the waiting line. She had taken Meghan’s hand when, suddenly, they heard a barking dog and saw a streak of movement. A midsized dog emerged from the forest, chasing a kitten—Joy’s Snowflake!
Joy uttered an unintelligible cry, dropped Meghan’s hand, and ran after the two animals. Meghan followed her, keeping an eye on the child and the animals. They were some distance into the bare trees of the orchard when the kitten darted up a tree. The dog dashed around the tree, clawed at the trunk, and gave a few more halfhearted yips that sent the kitten higher into the branches. Finally, the dog gave up and ran off in the direction of the stables.
The kitten sat on a high branch, gazing down at them with its sea green eyes. Its fur was wet and ruffled and it mewed plaintively.
Joy gestured for it to come down, and Meghan called, “Here, kitty. Here, Snowflake. Come down.”
The kitten clung to its branch, obviously afraid to descend.
Meghan studied the tree. It had a number of low branches, but dressed in heavy winter attire, how could she manage it? Still, for Joy’s sake, she had to make the attempt.
“You stay right here,” she told Joy. “I shall try to reach him.”
She managed the first few branches easily enough. “Come on, Snowflake,” she crooned, and the kitten—amazingly—seemed to understand and moved along its branch closer to the trunk. “That’s it. Come on,” she said softly so as not to scare it.
When it came closer, she reached for it and heard the branch on which she stood crack. Suddenly, she lost her balance and fell backward, her arms flailing. She felt her head hit something hard. She had a fleeting thought of its being another branch, and then darkness enveloped her.
Eight
Justin had just trudged back to the top of the hill pulling a child-laden sled when he saw Joy come running from the orchard.
“Papa! Papa! Come quick! She’s hurted.”
Responding to the urgency in her voice, he had no time to marvel at the fact that his daughter was speaking again. He grabbed Joy’s hand. “Come. Show me.”
She led him to tree under which lay a blue heap. Meghan. Oh, God, no.
“She fell, Papa,” Joy explained needlessly.
He knelt beside Meghan, afraid to move her, lest he injure her further. She was lying on her side, one leg curled under her. She groaned and thrashed about some. Well, apparently she had not broken one of her limbs. As she turned her head, he saw a spot of blood on the snow. He felt beneath her head and touched a lump already forming there. She groaned in protest.
“She will be all right,” he assured Joy, not at all sure of the truth of that. Joy nodded.
He picked up Meghan and stood holding her inert body close to his chest as Robert and Irene came up.
“What happened?” Robert demanded.
“How bad is it?” Irene asked.
“As nearly as I can tell,” Justin explained, “she was trying to rescue that kitten.” He gestured with a movement of his head to the white ball of fur still clinging to a branch. “She hit her head, but I do not think there are other injuries.”
“You go on,” Robert told him. “I shall get the kitten, and Irene and I will bring Joy back with us.”
In a flash of insight as he carried Meghan back to the house, Justin realized how much she had come to mean to him. Please, God, he prayed silently, do not let me lose her.
He carried her to her room, shouting at a footman to go for the doctor as he went. Meghan’s maid a
nd another maid arrived and he helped them remove her cloak and then left them to the business of getting her into bed. She had groaned a time or two, but remained unconscious.
He was pacing outside the door to her chamber when Robert and Irene arrived with Joy. “She is still unconscious,” he told them. “I sent for the doctor.”
Irene disappeared into Meghan’s room. Joy stood looking rather forlorn and holding her precious kitten close to her.
“Don’t worry, Papa. Auntie Meg will be all right. The lady told me.”
“The lady?” he echoed, not comprehending at first. “Oh. The lady. Of course.” And somehow Joy’s reassurance comforted him. He hugged her to him and immediately broke into a fit of sneezes.
The Everleigh maid emerged from the room. “Her ladyship said as how I should take Miss Joy to the nursery.”
“Good idea,” Justin said, reaching for his handkerchief and eyeing the kitten askance.
Meghan became conscious slowly. She knew instinctively that she lay in her bed and then she recalled the fall. She opened her eyes and was startled to see Justin sitting in a chair by her bed. He was asleep. She turned her head to see Betsy on the other side and felt a twinge of pain.
“Oh, ma’am, you’re awake!”
Betsy’s exclamation awakened Justin, who sat up straight and ran a hand over his face.
“How do you feel?” he asked as Betsy left the room.
“As though I were hit on the head.” She reached to touch her head and felt a bandage. She winced.
“The doctor said you will have a headache, but he found no other injury,” Justin assured her.
“How long have I—”
“Been unconscious? About three-and-a-half or four hours.”
“Have you been here all that time?”
“Intermittently. They chased me out when the doctor examined you, but Irene was here.”
Meghan smiled at the thought of such care being extended to her. It had been years since she felt so cherished.
