Miss Merton's Last Hope

by Heather Boyd

  “I have come to believe you were correct. I am not needed here.” She hurried to the weather-beaten door and rapped sharply on it before he could refute her words.

  She was needed. She was wanted.

  A boy of about twelve met them and ushered them into a shabby front room. “Miss Merton is here again, Mama.”

  Mrs. Clemens sat with her youngest child on her knee, staring into a cold hearth. She blinked and looked around. When she made to rise and greet them, Melanie quickly urged her to remain seated and took a place at her side. “Mr. George has come with good news for you.”

  The babe Mrs. Clemens held reached for Melanie, and to his surprise, she perched the child on her lap as if she were accustomed to it. He tore his gaze away as she fussed, rewrapping the child in a blanket to keep him warm. There was a definite chill in the room. Apparently his help couldn’t come too soon.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, indeed. I have a house to offer you on Russell Road. It might be a bit cramped at first, but should do well enough for the winter.”

  Mrs. Clemens nodded, and then shook her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  Melanie juggled the child to grasp the woman’s hand. “It is true. You have a home again.”

  Mrs. Clemens topped sideways onto Melanie’s shoulder and sobbed, great gasping tears that brought her children running into the room. Melanie put her arm around the woman. “Children, would you take young Vincent and see if you cannot find his rattle? Your mother needs a moment.”

  The eldest girl took her brother with a smile and dragged her brothers and sisters with her. Melanie squeezed Mrs. Clemens as if they were old friends. “They always listen to Beatrice, don’t they?”

  Mrs. Clemens turned her head toward Melanie. “I don’t know what I would do without her.”

  “Well, thanks to Mr. George’s generosity, you’ll never need to find out.” She cast a warm smile in his direction and then dug a fine white handkerchief from her reticule to dab away the woman’s tears. “Now, would you like to hear about your new home? It is clean and vacant and you will be able to move there today.”

  Walter filled Mrs. Clemens’s ears with the particulars of the property, the nearest neighbors, while also stressing it would be a bit of a squeeze. He stood and checked the time on his pocket watch. “I have arranged for four fellows to lend a hand with the heavy lifting if that is acceptable to you. Honest and trustworthy men who will take care of everything you require done and give you no cause for concern. They should be here directly. This is your key.”

  The woman grasped it tightly to her chest. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

  He smiled at her warmly. “Some of my happiest memories are of hearing Mr. Clemens sing in the tavern, and I was very sorry to hear of his death. To do any less for his widow would be to slight those happy memories.”

  Her eyes welled with tears again. “He had a fine singing voice.”

  “He did indeed.”

  While Melanie said her goodbyes, Walter silently observed her. Today she’d discarded her reserve in order to comfort the grieving widow. She was good with children, and although it wasn’t his place—or wise—a compulsion to explain something to her that would be positively shocking stirred in him.

  Avoiding children did not mean she must not marry.

  Melanie was making a mistake in denying herself the chance to be happy, and she was clearly unaware of the alternatives.

  Eleven

  With the matter of moving Mrs. Clemens into her new home underway, Melanie allowed herself a moment to relax. “You are a good man, Mr. George.”

  And generous. She’d had trouble hiding her astonishment at his offer of a home for the family earlier, and later again in the arrangements he’d made for moving them there. He’d also ensured they’d have food on the table and in the pantry. She couldn’t imagine another soul being so generous without expecting something in return.

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” he said quietly.

  His tone was very much like the Walter she’d always met with in the past—self-deprecating and calm—and her nerves settled. She was sorry circumstances prevented them from being on good terms all the time.

  He sighed. “Now, we have the walk home for privacy, so tell me what you did to put the vicar’s nose so far out of joint that he would be openly rude to you.”

  To explain would remind Walter of the reason for their quarrel, and while she did not want to fight with him, she also could not ignore his request. “He feels I set a bad example by not having married yet, and I suppose he is right.”

  Walter rubbed his jaw in that way he usually did when he was thinking. “You have turned down your fair share of suitors, so it’s bound to draw criticism.”

  She stiffened.

  He nodded politely to an acquaintance they passed. “Not that I don’t now have some idea why you refused them.”

  “You don’t understand.” He certainly hadn’t the other day, and she didn’t expect that to change. No one understood. Even Valentine looked at her as if she were a stranger.

  “I believe I do in a way.” He frowned. “Your former suitors failed to make you care for them. You never considered any other response.”

  His words chilled her. “Are you trying to say that I’m incapable of deeper feelings?”

  Walter shook his head. “If you had liked them, or thought you could learn to love even one of those fellows, given a longer acquaintance, your answers might have been different. I suppose from your point of view, you did them a kindness.”

  She faced forward, feeling her face heating all over again. He did understand. “There is no point in marrying only to be miserable. I have witnessed that firsthand through my parents’ marriage.”

  “Not all marriages are bad ones and you are certainly capable of deeper feelings,” he continued. “You’ve grown to love Julia as a sister—and we both know you enjoyed being kissed so, clearly, you are not unaffected if approached the right way.”

  “That was…” She swallowed. “You caught me by surprise but I should not have allowed it. I am truly sorry.”

  His eyelids lowered, and a tiny smile appeared on his lips. “I gave you plenty of time to get away.”

  She couldn’t protest it wasn’t true. She’d had ample time and opportunity to avoid the second kiss he’d pressed to her lips. She couldn’t explain why she hadn’t moved but the idea of turning him away hadn’t once crossed her mind. It wasn’t until after the kiss that she’d realized what she’d done. She’d led him on unintentionally.

  He leaned close. “As much as I’d like to discuss kissing, I have something else on my mind today that I want to talk to you about.”

  Melanie clenched her hands together, overcome by fear of what else he might have to say of her past behavior.

  She waited for him to continue but he kept glancing toward the sea. “Walter?”

  His brows lifted and then he glanced down. “This is a public area, and I’m not one to harm a lady’s reputation. There is something I need to explain to you that is difficult to say but I feel I must.”

  “All right. If you think it’s important, I shall hear you.”

  “I want you to understand that while I might not accept your decision not to marry, I don’t deny you the right not to. I apologize if I was short with you last week. I’d like to hope we could remain on good terms irrespective of what I say next.”

  A rush of yearning filled her. The past week had been painful, thinking that she’d angered him, disappointed him. She’d had sufficient time to consider how she might mend their friendship, but until today she’d begun to feel it a lost cause. “I’d like that.”

  He took a deep breath. “A woman need not suffer a pregnancy if she does not want a babe. There are ways to avoid such a situation.”

  That hadn’t been what she’d expected to hear next from him. “I don’t understand.”

  “I can see that you don’t.” He stared ahea
d, his cheeks darkening to a deep pink, as if he were blushing. “A husband can withdraw from his wife before he finds completion during intimacy. You could marry if you wanted to and still not have children.”

  Melanie swallowed hard. She’d never known such things were possible in a marriage. She’d never been told very much about a wedding night except to expect pain and repetition until a child was made. “No husband would agree to such an arrangement that denied him an heir.”

  “He might accept if given a choice in the decision from the beginning.”

  “No man would want society to think he’d chosen so poorly. A supposedly barren wife would be an embarrassment to him.”

  “Then he would be a buffoon,” Walter insisted. He met her gaze. “There is no need to deny yourself the pleasure of intimacy. There are more ways and means for a husband to be with his wife without causing a babe to be made.”

  Melanie gasped. “There are?”

  He stared at her and his face turned very red. “Oh, yes.”

  She set her hand to her throat as embarrassment filled her. This was a side to Walter George that she’d never suspected. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing!

  What he suggested bordered on the scandalous, and she should not listen to another word.

  She hurried ahead of him but when she reached the end of the lane, she slowed her steps. What exactly was she running from? He spoke of her taking a husband as if she had choices when she knew there were none.

  He caught up to her quickly. “Does that change your mind?”

  She considered what answer to give. She couldn’t say yes or even no with any certainty. She had only a little understanding of what went on between husbands and wives in the bedchamber. Where Walter had gotten his experience and knowledge of intimacy was a subject she didn’t want to contemplate. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s not a no.” His small smile grew and they continued on in silence a few more yards. “Perhaps practical experience of desire might help you decide whether to give up entirely on men.”

  She frowned at his suggestion. She had to assume he intended to be her teacher on the subject. She had enjoyed his kisses, but no self-respecting lady would agree with him. “I can’t.”

  “No expectations, no consequences. Be honest with me now, could you think of anything when we were kissing?”

  “I. Ah. No.” She met Mr. George’s gaze guiltily. That was what had set them at odds in the first place. Her lack of restraint. Her lack of caution around him. “I didn’t think of very much at all.”

  He grinned. “Tomorrow, after your brother and Julia head off to the shop, give your servants the day off. Tell them you want to read all day or something equally unexciting. When they are gone, I will come to you. Leave the front door unlocked so I can slip inside before anyone sees me.”

  She stared at him in horror. “Have you done this before with other women?”

  He grinned. “Does the idea of me with someone else make you uncomfortable?”

  “Yes,” she replied immediately. It made her seethe. “I thought you were a respectable gentlemen.”

  “There are degrees to everything, and I won’t pretend I don’t want you.”

  She blushed at his bold statement. To think she’d been so comfortable around a rogue and not known his true colors. “I couldn’t do what you ask.”

  He huffed out a breath. “Damn. I almost had you there for a moment.”

  When he laughed and threw his usual smile her way, she was confused. It was as if he’d become two very different men all of a sudden. She liked one of them. She wasn’t so certain about the other.

  They walked home in silence and he made no further advances. She was surprised he was taking her rejection so well.

  She stole a glance at him and he caught her looking. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,” he whispered.

  They met Valentine at the end of Cavendish Place and her brother’s face was so pale, she gasped. “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong,” Valentine hissed. “Where the devil have you been?”

  Astonished by his anger, she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I went to enquire after Mrs. Clemens’s situation and ended up helping her move into the new home Mr. George has provided for her.”

  “I will bid you both a good evening,” Walter said before abandoning her to her brother’s interrogation. She felt a pang of longing to follow him, but quickly quashed that idea.

  “Have you no care for your reputation anymore?” Valentine scowled. “You left without taking your maid along and now I see you’ve met with Walter. What did he say to you this time to make your face blush so?”

  “Amy was busy helping Julia sort the linen today and I didn’t want to disturb their plans.” She gestured toward Walter as he let himself into his home and disappeared inside. “Mr. George was perfectly amiable, so there was no cause for any concern.”

  She turned for the front door of their home, wishing desperately to vanish instead. Julia smiled warmly when they met inside, but Melanie sidestepped her sister-in-law and headed to her bedchamber. Despite his shocking suggestion and advances, Walter had given her much to consider. Whatever these methods of avoiding conception were, she’d never heard a whisper of them.

  Valentine poked his head through her doorway. “I begin to wonder what is going on between you two. First he yells at you and now you call him amiable!”

  “There is nothing between us,” she insisted. There should never be.

  He nodded. “See to it that there can never be any misunderstandings. He is too good a friend to lose. We owe him a great deal.”

  “I know.” She glanced at her brother. “I don’t wish another misunderstanding either, not with the way Mr. Radley reacted.”

  Valentine turned away.

  “Wait,” she called out to him. “We should discuss when I could return to our parents.”

  “Never.” Valentine reappeared at the doorway. “Why on earth would you want to go back to them?”

  Melanie shook her head. “We never spoke of it, but my stay should have only ever been a temporary tactic to divert Father’s temper. With Mrs. Hartwood’s support for Julia assured, and her doing so well, it is high time I got out from underfoot.”

  “I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I am trying to understand your decision, truly I am, but you must know how strange it is for me. I’d always assumed you were waiting for the right gentlemen to ask for your hand.”

  “I do understand how strange my decision must seem to you.” She shrugged. “I tried to tell you once before, but you laughed and turned away without realizing I was in earnest. I lost my courage then. It is time I went home.”

  “This is your home,” Valentine insisted.

  “No, it is Julia’s, and I promise you I am happy for that.” She smiled at him, but could see he was torn. “Could you please make arrangements for a carriage, or I can take the stage on my own if that is more convenient and thrifty. I don’t wish to be a burden to you.”

  Taking the stage on Friday would allow her time to say goodbye to Mrs. Clemens and to Walter.

  Valentine sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “A private carriage and a suitable chaperone, as always. I won’t have you placed in any danger, and I expect you to return for the summer each year without fail.”

  “If you insist.” Melanie would not come again. It was time to let go of the past and this place. She grasped the door and slowly shut it in his face.

  However, she trembled so badly, she climbed onto her bed and grasped the small pillow to hug against her chest. She was being torn in two by conflicting desires.

  She wanted to stay with all her heart, but Walter would always yearn for children and the idea he’d have them with someone else caused her more pain than she’d ever imagined possible. She hadn’t felt this wretched since Andy had passed away.

  Twelve

  The obligations of meeting expectations, even if it were
to his married sister on her birthday, were becoming a trial. This extravagant dinner could not be over soon enough for Walter’s taste. He kept his eyes on his plate, a smile on his lips and ignored the subtle flirtations aimed at him from his left.

  “Have you traveled much, Mr. George?”

  Walter was hard pressed not to groan each time Miss Lane opened her mouth. She was determined to make him notice her. He glanced along the table and regretted Melanie’s absence from the festivities. If only she had come, he would not be the target of a marriage-minded miss. “Yes, I’ve traveled all over, but I prefer Brighton.”

  “And London, I hope.” The woman giggled and glanced across to her parents. The family lived most of the year in London, from what he could tell, and it was becoming blatantly obvious where she was attempting to lead the discussion. If he hinted he visited the capital on occasion then an invitation to call on them would undoubtedly be extended.

  He shrugged. “I’ve no need for London.”

  Given the strength of the sigh that followed, Walter assumed the girl was disappointed in him but he didn’t care.

  He was the only single man at this dinner. Miss Lane the only one unmarried. He was highly sick of the matchmaking attempts. Soon, if he had his way, he would not have to endure such indignities.

  He knew his own mind.

  He was decided on Melanie for a wife, and no amount of flirtatious looks from young Miss Lane would ever persuade him to give up what he wanted so easily. It would take time, but he was sure he could change her mind. She’d changed it once to allow him to kiss her, and the rest would surely come eventually if he did not rush her into a situation that went against her morals.

  Luckily he was possessed with abundant patience.

  The meal ended and, to his relief, the women filed out for the drawing room soon after. Miss Lane threw a swift smile over her shoulder as she stepped across the threshold. Although it was his brother-in-law’s duty, Walter stood immediately to serve port. He needed the drink to brace himself for what remained of the evening.