The Heart That Lies by April Munday Page A

next day Anna went straight into Meldon’s arms in the carriage with no protest. She had lain awake trying to think of ways to make it easier for him, but nothing occurred to her. Instead, she resolved to comply with all his requests, save one.
    The pace was slower, as it was raining. It was also much colder and Meldon wrapped a blanket around her. Anna allowed herself to relax completely against him. She felt warm and safe.
    Although she had slept during the night, her poor conscience had meant that her sleep was restless and she fell asleep almost as soon as the carriage started moving. Once she woke to find that she was holding Meldon’s arm. The fabric of his coat was rough under her fingers.
    “Move, if you wish. You must be uncomfortable like that.”
    How had he known that she was awake?
    “I don’t wish to fidget, my lord.”
    “You do not fidget. Perkins says that if you are not comfortable, it will delay the healing of your wound.”
    “Perkins wishes to be rid of me.” She bit her lip, horrified by her impertinence.
    To her surprise, Meldon laughed.
    “He says he did not come into my service to wait on a flighty woman. I suspect I will lose him should I marry... when I marry.” He paused, as if the idea of marrying was a new one. “But fidget as much as you like, you will not hurt me.”
    Anna doubted this was true, but she moved to make herself more comfortable.
    “When will you let me go?”
    She had not meant to ask this, but she had to know.
    Meldon stiffened.
    “I will not let you go to somewhere where you are not protected. And you must admit that Jonas Smith could not look after himself very well.”
    “ I was managing,” she protested, but that was not what he meant. “Then I must be a governess or marry.” She had given this a lot of thought recently. Jonas Smith could make his living from poetry or gambling; Anna Smith could not.
    “Yes,” agreed Meldon softly. “But I will protect you until then.”
    Anna shifted until her hand reached one of Meldon’s. “I think you have good intentions, but you do not know the harm you do.” She patted his hand, then let her hand rest there. Her head now lay under his.
    “How do I harm you?” he asked softly. “I would undo it if I could.”
    “But you will not,” she sighed. “Perhaps when I am well again you will come to a different conclusion.” She knew he would not; men of Meldon’s type and class did not have the imagination to understand how someone like her might prefer a different life.
     
    Meldon Hall was large and old-fashioned. The park and the drive seemed to have been landscaped in the modern style, but the house itself seemed to have grown over the centuries with little thought given to the outer appearance. Anna decided that it suited Meldon. A more modern house would have been foreign to his character.
    Once inside, she learned that the exterior had been deceptive. The entrance hall was all dark oak panelling, but the bedroom into which Perkins carried her was decorated in accordance with the latest fashion and contained all the new conveniences. Perkins settled her into the bed and made her comfortable. This was Meldon’s home, she thought. Meldon House was just somewhere where he stayed when in London, but this was his home.
    Perkins left her alone and Meldon hobbled into the room accompanied by a woman who must be his mother.
    “Miss Smith, may I present my mother, Lady Meldon? Mother, Miss Anna Smith.”
    The Countess of Meldon was still beautiful. Anna estimated that she was in her late sixties, but she carried herself as if she were much younger.
    She smiled. “You are very welcome here, Miss Smith.”
    Anna thought that she was as accomplished a liar as her son. She didn’t know what Meldon had told his mother, but she doubted it was good enough to explain why he had suddenly appeared at home accompanied by a wounded nobody called Smith, who could easily have been left in the care of his servants in