‘Rockbourne,’ said Lady Mancroft disdainfully, seating herself at the head of the table in Tuppen’s library, though no one had actually appointed her as chairman. ‘I have never heard of him.’
The members of the committee were gathering to finalise the arrangements for the horse racing and sports. Neither Justin nor the Professor had yet arrived and Aunt Bartrum had just repeated the gossip that the doctor was the second son of Viscount Rockbourne.
‘He was Vice-Admiral Sir Joshua Tremayne,’ Captain Gosforth told them. ‘He was granted the title for his exploits in saving the West Indies for the British Crown back in eighty-two. The Battle of the Saints, they called it, on account of the islands being named after saints. I was there, a lowly midshipman, but it was a fierce encounter and he acquitted himself with great honour.’
‘Oh, a new title.’ Her ladyship was not going to give way easily. ‘New titles have been scattered like falling leaves in the last few years, no matter that the recipient has no ancient family background to support it. Why, it denigrates the position of those whose antecedents go back hundreds of years. Mancroft can trace his line back to Elizabeth’s time…’
‘To be sure,’ Mrs Bartrum soothed. ‘We know that and are fully appreciative of the honour you do us by participating in our project.’ Aunt Bartrum was being true to her word and was behaving as if she, and not Anne, were its instigator, notwithstanding her ladyship seemed to have usurped the role. Anne might have felt resentful, except that it served to take attention away from her and her confused feelings, and for that she was grateful.
‘Well, if the Regent expresses an interest, then it is my duty to support it,’ her ladyship said, stretching the truth. ‘But what I cannot understand is why the doctor should keep his father’s title a secret. A gentleman does not deny his rank without good reason.’
‘I believe he thought it would help him to be more acceptable to his poorer patients,’ Anne put in, speaking for the first time. ‘He sees his mission as one of service and they might be overawed or wary of him if they thought he was one of the upper echelons of society.’
‘Fustian!’ her ladyship exclaimed. ‘The peasantry care nothing for who or what a man is, so long as they are given their medicine. Besides, they are taught to respect a gentleman’s rank. I refuse to believe that is the reason.’ She paused, but as no other explanation occurred to her, added, ‘And there is Mrs Tremayne…’
‘What about her?’ Anne’s voice was sharp.
‘Mrs Tremayne told Captain Smollett the doctor is estranged from his father and brother.’ This was added by the Major.
‘Do you know why?’
‘Something to do with a broken engagement.’
‘There!’ Lady Mancroft was triumphant. ‘What did I tell you? He is hiding something.’
‘I cannot think that has any bearing on the work of the committee,’ Captain Gosforth said, endeavouring to change the subject.
‘But of course it has,’ the lady insisted. ‘If there is a scandal attached to him, then we should not be puffing him up over this hospital scheme.’
‘We cannot go ahead without him,’ Anne said, speaking mildly, although she was far from calm. If they decided they would no longer support the idea of a hospital, then she and Justin were lost. His interest in her was through the project and it was through the project she would convince him they belonged together. But she could not quite banish Mrs Tremayne’s accusations from her mind, even though she had made up her mind to pay them no heed. ‘It was his idea.’
‘That is nothing to the point. This committee was formed to raise money for a hospital for the poor, no more, no less, and if we decide Dr Tremayne is not a suitable person to head it, then we can appoint someone else. Professor Harrison, for example. I believe he has more standing in the medical world.’
‘I think that is despicable,’ Anne protested. ‘We should not be gossiping about the doctor, especially when he is not here to defend himself.’
‘Why is he not here?’
‘I expect he has been delayed. His waiting room is always full, which is why the hospital is so necessary, and in my opinion he is the ideal person to run it. He is skilled and caring, and it does not matter whether his patients are rich or poor, he does his best for them. They know that and they love him for it.’ Anne knew she was becoming heated and everyone was looking at her with curiosity. Her defence had been a little too spirited to be disinterested. She modulated her voice. ‘What happened in the past, unless it was something unlawful, has no relevance, surely?’
No one offered an argument because the doctor and Professor Harrison had entered the room and none of them had the temerity to say anything to the doctor’s face. Anne, who had her back to the door, turned to face them, wondering how much they had overheard.
Both men were impeccably dressed in dark frockcoats and strapped pantaloons and their cravats were elegantly tied, but both had wet hair. Dr Tremayne’s was darker and sleeker than usual and the Professor’s had sprung into tight unruly curls. Anne supposed they had both been for a dip before dressing to attend the meeting.
‘We were on our way here when we saw a commotion on the beach,’ the Professor explained. ‘There were two ladies running up and down, shrieking and pointing out to sea, and then we observed two heads bobbing in the surf. The sea is very turbulent this morning and not safe for any but the strongest swimmers.’
‘Yes, I noticed that on my way here,’ Anne said. It was the roughest she had seen the water since her arrival. The waves were taller than a man and the wind was whipping them up into white foam. The bathing machines had been pulled higher up the beach and she remembered thinking that if it continued she would have to forgo her swim the next day. It would be disappointing because she felt sure Justin would be at the cove on the look out for her. ‘It was surely foolish to go out in it.’
‘To be sure. The dipper cautioned her not to go from the safety of the bathing machine, but either she did not hear or decided to ignore the advice,’ the Professor went on. ‘The young man had seen her from the male section and went after her and then there were two of them in difficulties.’
‘You saved them both?’ Aunt Bartrum queried.
‘Yes. Doctor Tremayne rescued the young lady. It was fortunate he is a strong swimmer for she was being swept further and further away and she had imbibed a great deal of sea water by the time he brought her ashore. Fortunately, she recovered when he ministered to her. The young man managed to make his way back with a little help from me. But I am afraid it delayed us; we had to go back and change into dry clothes.’
‘How brave of you,’ Anne said, addressing Justin. Their eyes met and held for a moment of time that could only have been a second or two, but it seemed like several minutes as she recalled their swim together, the pleasure of seeing his muscular body cleaving the water next to hers and then the feel of his kiss on her wet hand as he bade her au revoir. Even thinking about it made her shiver.
‘Nonsense!’ he said, still looking at her. She was in blue sprigged muslin with a silk fringed shawl thrown casually over her shoulders and looked so different from the sea nymph in the clinging wet bathing garment he had laughed with and kissed the day before, he began to wonder if it had been a dream sent to torment him. Her bright eyes and pink cheeks told him she was remembering too, but whether the memory was one of pleasure or shame, he could not be sure.
‘Why foolish young ladies should think they know better than the women who spend their lives by the water, I do not know,’ he went on a little caustically. How could he maintain the cool, practical mien of a respected doctor when she made him feel like a green schoolboy who had suddenly discovered the enchantment of the fair sex? And had he not promised himself he would not let it happen again? ‘She was warned, but I suppose she was too busy trying to impress Lieutenant Harcourt.’
‘Harcourt?’ queried the Major.
‘Yes, did I not say?’ He tore his gaze away from Anne to answer. ‘The young lady was Miss Barry. It was her mother and younger sister at the water’s edge and the Lieutenant who went to the rescue.’
‘Jeanette!’ Anne exclaimed. ‘But she is recovered, you say?’
‘Yes, I prescribed a mild sedative and a day in bed to recover from the shock, but she will be none the worse for it. A little wiser, it is to be hoped.’
‘I shall call on her as soon as we have concluded this meeting.’
‘Then let us make a start,’ he said.
Everyone settled down to business. The order of the races and the sporting events was settled. The Major, with whatever help he recruited, was to be in charge of organising the horse racing and curricle racing and Captain Gosforth would oversee the sporting events, such as sprinting, jumping, skittles and bowling for a pig. Mrs Bartrum was to supply the refreshments with the able help of Mrs Carter and her kitchen staff. Lord Mancroft undertook to see that no one misbehaved themselves and to evict anyone bent on being rowdy. He would not man-handle them himself, of course, but he had two big strong grooms who could be trusted to the task. Her ladyship’s role was to present the prizes to the winners; if a certain important personage were to turn up, then it would be her duty to welcome him and escort him round and present those she felt deserved the honour.
‘And Dr Tremayne?’ queried Anne, afraid they meant to snub him by leaving him out. Whatever he had or had not done, she could not be party to that.
‘I shall not be able to attend,’ Justin said quickly. ‘I cannot neglect my patients.’
‘I think perhaps your patients will neglect you.’ Professor Harrison laughed. ‘They will all be at the sports field, trying to win the pig.’
‘Not all of them, some are too ill.’
‘Then I will look after them. You will be needed to talk to people about your plans.’
‘But do not become too scientific,’ Walter added. ‘It will only confuse people.’
Somehow the news of the near-drowning had subdued everyone and the matter of the doctor’s secret past was not mentioned, much to Anne’s relief. She supposed they felt it would be churlish to make accusations against him when he had been instrumental in saving the life of one of their friends. Whether the matter would be raised again she had no way of knowing, but she hoped it would not, certainly not before she had had an opportunity to find out the truth for herself.
When the business on the agenda was concluded, she announced that she had found premises that she thought would be suitable for a hospital if Doctor Tremayne agreed. She risked a glance at him and found him looking closely at her, as if he could read her thoughts in her eyes. Could he see her longing to be close to him, to feel again his kisses on her lips, to run, hand in hand, across the beach and dance once again through those empty rooms, filled now with memories? Or was he thinking about his sister-in-law?
Justin had spent the whole meeting trying not to think about anything except the matter in hand, certainly not Sophie. If it had not been for her untimely arrival, the gabblegrinders would not now be slandering him. He had heard some of what was being said about him as he and George approached the room; the door had not be properly closed and Lady Mancroft had the voice of a drill sergeant. On the other hand, Anne’s reply had been spoken quietly and he had not been able to hear it. Had she been championing him? Or was she simply concerned for her hospital? Oh, it was her hospital, there was no doubt in his mind of that, and if she could not have it with him involved, she would proceed without him. As Lady Mancroft had so succinctly put it, there was always Professor Harrison.
Why did that trouble him less than the notion that Miss Hemingford believed ill of him? He could, of course, tell her what had really happened, but that would mean calling Sophie a liar and shaming his brother and he could not do it. If Miss Hemingford was so easily influenced by gossip, then he had been wrong about her all along. He searched her face for a sign, a sign that she was still the compassionate, unprejudiced woman he had believed her to be.
She could not bear that telling gaze and looked away to pick up a sheaf of papers from the table in front of her. ‘It is called Cliff House,’ she said, making a pretence of consulting them. ‘It stands on the top of the cliffs to the east of the town. It is empty and I have ascertained that it is available on a long lease that is very reasonable, considering the price houses are fetching nowadays. If we make a success of the races, then I think we will have enough to secure it, though it will need extra money for refurbishment and equipment.’
‘You said nothing of it to me,’ Aunt Bartrum said, giving her niece a reproving look. ‘When did you find it?’
‘Yesterday. I saw it from the sea when I was swimming, so I went ashore to explore it.’ She raised her eyes to look at Justin again and saw the wry upturn to the corner of his mouth and knew he was thinking of their time together exploring the house, and her whole body flooded with warmth. She had come so near to abandoning all control of herself; another minute and she would have been completely lost to all reason. Strangely she did not view that as a deliverance, but a disappointment, and admitting that gave her a disgust of herself. If he was the gentleman Walter Gosforth said he was, he would be disgusted with her too. But was he? If the kiss she had seen him give his sister-in-law was anything to go by, he was far from a gentleman. Nor did he seem to have any compunction about duping his own brother, cuckolding him perhaps. How could she think twice about such a man?
She made herself return her attention to the papers in her hand and continued. ‘This morning I ascertained it is owned by a Mrs Bolton who lives in Islington. I also discovered the name of the agent acting on her behalf.’
‘Why is it empty when everyone knows accommodation in Brighton is at a premium?’ Mrs Bartrum asked. ‘What is wrong with it?’
‘It is in want of repair,’ Anne said. ‘But nothing serious.’
‘I know it,’ Captain Gosforth put in. ‘I pass the end of the lane on my way into town when I come by the coast road and it can just be glimpsed from there. It is in dire condition and reputed to be haunted.’
‘Haunted?’ her ladyship gasped. ‘Then I, for one shan’t go anywhere near it.’
‘Oh, come, Mama,’ the Major soothed. ‘Surely you do not believe in ghosts?’
‘I neither believe nor disbelieve, but I am not sure I wish to put it to the test.’
‘It is nothing to be afraid of,’ Walter told her. ‘It is only a little child.’
In spite of her conviction that she was practical and not easily frightened, Anne shuddered. Children in distress always aroused her strongest sympathies and if this child had not found peace in death, then she, or he, must have been very unhappy in life. But the house had not struck her as an unhappy house; quite the contrary, she had felt its peaceful ambience. ‘Do you know the story, Captain?’
‘The house belonged to a Colonel Skipton. His wife died and, having no children or grandchildren, he was lonely and became more and more of a recluse, refusing invitations and never being at home to callers. The house became filthy and the old man unkempt. He had one old military friend who decided to take him in hand. He took it upon himself to advertise for a housekeeper and a young widow applied and was taken on. She had a little daughter and the child changed the old man’s life. He doted on her. The house became full of light and laughter, and though there was gossip about the three of them living together like that, he did not let it trouble him and neither did Mrs Bolton. When the old man died, he left the house to her…’
‘What happened?’ Anne could hardly breathe, so intense was her feeling.
‘The child, I think she was called Susan, pined for the old man and was always searching the house, calling his name, pretending they were playing a game of hide and seek and he was simply hiding from her; it was something they had done frequently. One day she went down the cliff path when her mother was busy elsewhere, no doubt because the Colonel had often taken her down there to play. One supposes she was caught by the tide. Her body was washed up further along the coast some days later. The mother could not stand the place after that and left it to stand empty.’
‘Oh, the poor thing!’ Anne said, completely taken up by the story, feeling the mother’s anguish at the loss of her child. ‘And so they say the little one still looks for the old man?’
‘Yes, people passing by have heard her calling to him.’
‘Oh, that is nothing but the wind and the sea,’ the Major put in scornfully.
‘No doubt you are right,’ Anne said, forcing herself back to the matter in hand. ‘But what do you think of the idea of taking the house for our hospital? It is large enough to house fifty patients on the first floor, with waiting rooms and accommodation for the doctor on the ground floor. The attic rooms would house the staff.’
‘What about drinking water?’ the Captain asked.
‘I knew water might be a problem, considering that a hospital must use a great deal of it, but the agent assured me there is a well of pure water in the garden that has become overgrown, but it can be cleared out.’
‘You have been busy on our behalf,’ Justin remarked laconically, pretending, as they had arranged, that this was the first he had heard of it. ‘I think we should take a look at it. Can you obtain the key?’
‘I have it,’ she said, retrieving it from her embroidered reticule. ‘No one else has shown an interest in the place. It is too far on the edge of town for anyone of consequence to want it and it is too big and dilapidated for a tradesman. The agent was perfectly willing for me to have the key until we reached a decision.’
‘I am not going anywhere near it,’ Lady Mancroft said with a shudder.
‘Nor me,’ said Aunt Bartrum. ‘I will leave it to Dr Tremayne and Professor Harrison to decide.’
‘If they agree, then it is more than ever important to raise as much money as possible at the games and the ball,’ Anne said, handing the key to Justin, touching his hand with hers as she did so. It was no more than a brushing of her fingers on his, but it was enough to send ripples of warmth flowing through her all over again. Whatever this man had done in the past, whether he was a cur or not, did not matter. She wanted him, she wanted him so desperately it was almost a physical ache.
It looked as though she would have her way over the hospital, though whether she would have it on a more personal level she was not so sure. There was still that warning of Mrs Tremayne’s echoing in her head. He has these fancies, you know, but they do not last… It is only when the project, whatever it is, palls and he is off again that the dear people he has involved in it realise his capricious nature. Believe me, it will happen again and you will be left high and dry.
‘It was providential that we stopped to rescue that young lady,’ George said, as they strolled back to the doctor’s house.
‘Yes, she might have drowned,’ Justin said. ‘And even if someone had dragged her ashore, they might not have known how to revive her.’
‘How did you know? I have never before seen anyone being pumped out like that.’
‘I learned to do it at sea. Sailors are always tumbling overboard and very few of them can swim. Turning them over and applying pressure to the chest expels the water and allows air back into the lungs.’
‘I agree that was providential, but that was not what I meant. I saw how the wind was blowing with those people; if you had not arrived a hero, you would have been subjected to a quizzing.’
‘I know. It has probably only delayed it, not prevented it altogether. Sooner or later, I shall have to give an account of myself.’
‘Why not sooner?’
Justin stopped to consider the question. He wanted Miss Hemingford to trust him, to believe in him without calling for explanations about why he had done what he had, or so he told himself. But the other side of the coin was that, if he volunteered the information, she might blame him for what had happened. After all, no gentleman of breeding reneged on an engagement whatever the provocation. The condemnation of society would be enough to make her hold him in revulsion. He could not understand why it mattered; there was never any likelihood they would make a match. He had decided his work would fill his life and marriage was not part of it, certainly not marriage to one of the ton. ‘I will choose the time,’ he said.
‘It is your business, my old friend, but I cannot understand the difficulty. Tell the truth and shame the devil.’
‘She-devil,’ he murmured.
‘Surely not Miss Hemingford?’
‘Good God, no! Far from it. She is more angel than devil, as well as beautiful and intelligent…’
‘Oh, I begin to see. The she-devil is the other one. You have got yourself into a coil, Tremayne. If I can do anything to help…’
‘Support me in this hospital idea, that must be my first consideration, before anything else. My feelings have no relevance.’
‘You do not need to ask. I will do what I can.’
Justin suddenly became animated and quickened his pace. ‘Then let us see to the patients who are waiting, and then go and inspect Cliff House.’ They turned the corner and discovered the houses at the sea front end of the street was already falling to the hammers of the developers. The air was filled with noise and dust. ‘We have no time to waste.’
The fields to the west of the town were often used for games and military parades and on the Thursday chosen for the sports the weather was fine and warm and long before the opening ceremony the crowds were gathering, some to take part, others simply to watch or wander round the many booths set up to entertain and to tempt people to part with their money. There were booths selling hot potatoes, gingerbread, whelks and lemonade and sections roped off where the populace could try their hands at nine pins, bobbing for apples, archery and boxing, all of which would bring in more revenue. Anne sat at a table, taking the entrance fees as people flocked in.
She had seen Justin only once since the last committee meeting and that was when they met by chance while she and her aunt were promenading the sea front after tea at the Assembly Rooms the previous Sunday. He had been in animated conversation with Mrs Tremayne, but stopped to bow to them both. ‘Ladies, your obedient.’ His smile had seemed a little forced, as if he would rather not have come upon them.
They had returned his greeting from beneath their parasols. ‘Good day, Dr Tremayne. Mrs Tremayne.’
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Bartrum, Miss Hemingford.’ Mrs Tremayne’s cheeks had been bright pink, as if she were embarrassed at being caught out in some indiscretion.
They had exchanged comments about the weather, which was calm again after the storm, and Justin had told them he had viewed Cliff House and was of the opinion that it would make a good hospital and he had made an offer for the lease. ‘Of course, there is a great deal of work to be done before it is ready for its first patient,’ he had said.
Mrs Tremayne had made a snort of derision. ‘Really, Justin, it is a ruin. I cannot see how you can possibly contemplate making it into a hospital.’
‘Oh, I shall,’ he had said quietly.
‘You know, he is only doing it to win a wager,’ Mrs Tremayne had said, turning to Anne and her aunt. ‘If he wins, I will make a donation to his hospital, but, if I win, he will come home and make his peace with his family. I am confident of success.’ She had smiled and taken his arm. ‘I know him so well, you see.’
The memory of the encounter still burned Anne’s cheeks whenever she thought of it. The woman had been so sure of herself, so like a cat in a cream bowl, that Anne wanted to scream at her, ‘You shall not have him!’ And that, looking back, only showed how foolish she had been to be taken in by a handsome face, a muscular body and a couple of kisses. Kisses meant nothing to him; she had proof of that, and the sooner she put him from her mind the better. She had made an excuse that they were in a hurry to be elsewhere and dragged her aunt away. She had not looked back.
Now he was coming towards her with Tildy skipping at his side. The child was not in the least in awe of him and was chattering gaily. Seeing Anne, she broke away from the doctor and ran to stand before her. ‘Hallo, lady.’
Anne smiled at the little girl. ‘Hallo, Tildy. Are you enjoying yourself?’
‘Oh, yes. I am going in one of the races later and Tom is going to bowl for the pig.’
‘Then I hope you both win.’
‘Will you come and watch?’
‘I have to stay here and take the people’s money.’
‘Can’t someone else do it for you?’
‘Yes, Miss Hemingford,’ Justin said with a smile. She was in pale green gingham today, which seemed to heighten the colour of her chestnut hair and amber eyes; she was vibrantly alive. ‘Do shut up shop for a while. I do not think there will be many more coming. It is nearly time for the opening ceremony.’
Everyone was congregating at the end of the field where a platform had been erected and on which were gathered the town dignitaries, Lord and Lady Mancroft, Major Mancroft and Captain Gosforth. ‘You should be with them,’ he murmured, watching as she closed and locked the money box and handed it to the sergeant whom Major Mancroft had detailed to guard her while she had it in her possession. Pickpockets and thieves would view the occasion as a gift from heaven and no one doubted they would take full advantage of it. The sergeant and another soldier, both big strong men, would see off anyone attempting to steal it. ‘Without you, there would have been no hospital project.’
‘Oh, I have no desire to be in the limelight, Doctor,’ she said, retying the green ribbon that secured her straw bonnet. ‘But you should be there. Do not let them crowd you out.’
‘Like you, I would rather work behind the scenes, Miss Hemingford.’
He offered her his arm. She put one hand upon the sleeve of his dove-grey frockcoat and was surprised and pleased when Tildy slipped a small grubby hand into hers on the other side and together they made their way towards the platform to stand at the back and listen to the speeches. There were cheers from the crowd when Justin’s name was mentioned as the doctor whose work with the poor had inspired the project.
‘It is very unfair,’ Anne said, when the speeches had ended and Lady Mancroft had declared the event officially open. ‘No one said a word about you running the hospital when it is ready…’
‘Does it matter who runs it as long as it comes to fruition?’ he queried. ‘I am not indispensable.’
‘Oh.’ She was reminded of Mrs Tremayne’s contention that he would not see it out and wondered if the woman had been right all along. Was he already losing interest?
She had no time to ask him because her aunt was bearing down on them, with Major Mancroft and Captain Gosforth in tow. ‘Come, Anne, I need your help in the refreshment tent,’ she said. And to Tildy, with a look of revulsion, ‘Run along, child. Find your mama.’
‘But you promised…’ the little one appealed to Anne.
‘So I did and I will not break it.’ She turned to her aunt. ‘I promised Tildy I would see her run in her race. Can you not spare me a little longer?’
‘Oh, very well. I will ask Mrs Barry to help me. No doubt the lieutenants will be glad to lose her for a while.’
The Major laughed. ‘I am sure you have the right of it, ma’am, but it is understandable that she would be concerned for her daughters after what happened to Miss Jeanette. I would help you myself, but I have other duties. If you will excuse me.’ He seized the lady’s hand and kissed the back of it before striding away.
‘And I must go too, dear lady,’ Walter said, doing the same, leaving Justin and Anne laughing.
‘Oh, dear, they are fighting for her hand and she does not even know it,’ Anne said, as they wandered among the crowds. ‘She pretends she is promoting my prospects…’
‘Perhaps she is.’
‘No, she is mistaken. I am not looking for a husband.’
‘I am surprised to hear you say that. Doesn’t every young girl hope to be married?’
‘I am not every young girl as you well know, Dr Tremayne. I am a mature woman of seven-and-twenty and I prefer my single state. There! Are you surprised by that?’
‘Yes and no.’ She was too self-assured to be a giddy schoolgirl. She did not giggle, did not flinch at his touch as a seventeen-year-old might, but her looks did not betray her age; she was still very beautiful with a flawless complexion and a slim figure. But he knew, to his cost, that was not enough. If Sophie was anything to go by, there could be venom behind loveliness. And why would she be so against being wed? She was not frigid, he could tell that from her response when he kissed her, so was she more experienced than he had at first thought? The idea of that both repelled and excited him.
‘An enigmatic answer. Tell me what you mean.’
‘I cannot say that I know what I mean,’ he said carefully. ‘Seven-and-twenty is no great age and it gives you a certain poise when dealing with people, be they high or low, and a measure of independence, which you undoubtedly exploit to the full, but you are certainly not at your last prayers.’
‘You do not think so?’
‘I know it. I am surprised neither of those two gentlemen has offered for you.’
‘They are intent on my aunt, who is a dear lady and should not have to spend the rest of her life in lonely widow’s weeds. The gentlemen concerned are very perspicacious. They have been bowled over by her and I think it is touching.’
‘Listening to you, anyone would think she was the young débutante and you were the aunt.’
Anne laughed. ‘There are not so many years between us and she is young in spirit, do you not think? I love her dearly.’
‘I envy her,’ he murmured, so softly, she thought she had misheard him. ‘To be loved by you must be a pleasurable condition to be in.’
‘Doctor Tremayne, you are putting me to the blush.’
‘What! A mature lady of seven-and-twenty blushing? I do not believe it.’ But he did, because her cheeks were fiery and he regretted teasing her.
‘I wish I had not told you now.’
‘Your secret is safe with me.’
‘It is not a secret. Anyone with any intelligence would soon be able to discover my age; after all, I am my brother’s twin as anyone in society could soon tell you, but that does not mean I should like my age bandied about among the gossips.’
‘I am perfectly able to keep my tongue between my teeth, Miss Hemingford.’
‘Secrets!’ she exclaimed suddenly. ‘How I hate secrets.’
‘Sometimes they are necessary to avoid hurting other people.’
‘I understand that, but surely if one found someone in whom one wanted to confide…’
‘That, Miss Hemingford, would be different.’
Tildy was pulling on her hand in her excitement and could not be ignored. Anne turned to smile at her. ‘What is it, Tildy?’
‘There’s Ma and Tom. Let’s go over to them.’
Anne allowed herself to be led towards Mrs Smith, who was watching her son bowling at a row of skittles. Justin followed, but the moment of intimacy had gone and she wondered if she would ever learn his secret. She wanted him to tell her without having to quiz him directly, which she knew instinctively he would resent, yet though the opportunity had been there, he had not taken it.
‘Good afternoon, miss.’ Mrs Smith gave her a little curtsy.
Anne returned her greeting with a smile. ‘The day looks to be a great success. The money is pouring in.’
‘I wish I could help,’ the woman said. ‘But…’ She shrugged.
‘But you have helped. You paid your entrance fee and I do believe Tom has paid for several tries at the skittles.’
‘It is so little.’
‘Ah, but every little helps. Remember the parable of the widow’s mite? It all adds up.’
‘If I cannot give money, I can give my time, Miss Hemingford. I believe the house needs cleaning…’
‘So it does. If you are offering to help, then I am sure everyone will be most grateful. Is that not so, Doctor?’
‘Yes, of course,’ he agreed. ‘But only if you can spare the time. You have a home and family to look after and they must come first.’
Tom gave a shout of triumph as he managed to send all the skittles flying and the booth holder offered him the choice of a spotted neckerchief or a small wooden doll. He took the doll and handed it to Tildy, who squeaked with delight.
Anne and Justin left them enjoying the win and strolled on. ‘The hospital will be for them and people like them,’ he said. ‘They should not be denied medical help simply because they are poor.’
‘But you do mean to stay and see it to fruition?’
‘Of course. Did you doubt it?’
‘Mrs Tremayne…’ she began and stopped.
‘She does not know me as well as she thinks she does,’ he said. ‘Pay her no heed.’
Her head was full of questions. Why was his sister-in-law so determined to undermine him? Had he really broken an engagement? Had he loved the woman, whoever she was? Did he still love her? Could it be Mrs Tremayne herself? The thought shocked her. The woman was his brother’s wife; if he went off with her, it would cause a scandal of monumental proportions. He would be banished from society and would have to live in obscurity. But was he not doing that already until she had dragged him out of it over this hospital idea? What had she done to him?
She did not voice any of her questions, not only because she feared a rebuff, but because they had reached a large open area which had been roped off for a curricle race and Mrs Tremayne was there, standing beside a curricle in which Captain Smollett, resplendent in his blue and gold uniform, was sitting with the reins in his hand. The young horse was skittish and it was taking considerable skill to hold him in check at the starting line.
Anne felt Justin stiffen beside her and risked a glance up at his face. His jaw was rigid and his eyes held that hard, glittering look she had seen in them when she first met him. Whatever had happened between him and his sister-in-law, the sight of her still had a very powerful effect on him
‘Justin,’ Mrs Tremayne called out to him. ‘Where have you been? You promised to be my escort today.’
‘I have been otherwise engaged,’ he said.
‘So I see.’ She looked Anne up and down with ill-disguised contempt and only the pressure of Anne’s hand on his arm prevented Justin responding. ‘But no matter, Captain Smollett has been so kind as to escort me.’
She turned to look up at the Captain and whispered something that made him laugh and then she stood back as the three curricles in the first heat moved to the start line. The starter lowered his flag and they were off, rushing down the course wheel to wheel. It was a rectangular course with obstacles set at the corners round which they were obliged to go to prevent anyone from taking a short cut.
As they thundered past Anne found herself remembering her first day in Brighton. She saw again the flying curricle and the officer driving it as it almost ran Tildy down and she knew with certainty that she was looking at the same vehicle and the same man. That was why she thought she had seen Captain Smollett before. She had.
‘Captain Smollett is the man who ran Tildy down,’ she said quietly, setting aside her fury at Mrs Tremayne’s insult and the doubts the woman had put in her mind about Justin promising to escort her. Such things could wait for a more propitious time. ‘I did not realise it until now when I saw him driving his curricle. He was the one.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘What do you want to do about it?’
‘Tell Major Mancroft. He said if he knew who the man was he would see him punished.’
‘What will that achieve?’
‘It will stop him and others like him driving through the streets as if they were a race track. It will stop children like Tildy being killed.’
The heat ended with Smollett the winner by a carriage length, which meant he would go forward to the next round. While the vehicles for the next heat were lined up, Anne hurried across to where Major Mancroft stood, together with Mrs Tremayne, congratulating his fellow officer. The skittish pony was being rubbed down by a soldier groom.
‘Major Mancroft, a word, if you please,’ she said.
He excused himself and turned towards her. ‘Miss Hemingford, what can I do for you?’
‘You can punish that man.’ She pointed to Captain Smollett. ‘He is the one who ran the little girl down and left her for dead.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I will swear to it. You told me there were rules about not racing in the streets, I want them enforced.’
‘I did that as soon as you told me about it, but no one admitted to doing such a thing.’
‘They would not, would they?’
‘I say, Charles, you are not going to take the word of that filly against me, are you?’ Smollett was smiling easily, sure of himself, but he could not have said anything more calculated to raise the Major’s ire.
‘You will apologise to Miss Hemingford for that remark,’ he said coldly.
The Captain looked taken aback and then he laughed. ‘Oh, I see the way the wind is blowing, but you should not let your personal feelings cloud your judgement. The accusations of a demi-rep will never stand against the word of a gentleman.’
Justin sprang forward, his fists raised, but Anne tugged on his arm. ‘He is not worth it.’
The Major took a step forward too, but, knowing he could not strike a junior officer, he stayed his hand. ‘Captain Smollett, Miss Hemingford is a lady of rank, the sister of the Earl of Bostock, and you will offer your apology at once…’
Anne heard Mrs Tremayne’s sharp intake of breath and then a tinkling, embarrassed laugh, but she did not turn towards her. She remained resolutely facing Captain Smollett. He could do nothing but make the apology, though he did it with an ill grace. ‘That is not enough,’ she said calmly. ‘I want recompense, not for me, but for that little girl. You left her lying unconscious in the road…’
‘I did not know I had hit anyone.’
‘That is no excuse. You were driving recklessly. I was witness to it.’
‘Pay up, man, and look good about it,’ the Major said.
‘I don’t want him to pay me,’ she said, then turned to Justin. ‘Will you fetch Mrs Smith and Tildy? This calls for a personal apology…’
The doctor hurried away, while the protagonists stood facing each other without speaking. Anne hoped no one would see how much she was shaking. The Major, determined to keep his word to Anne, delayed the start of the next heat until the Captain had been dealt with. Time seemed to stand still, although the chattering and laughing of the crowd, the calling of the vendors from their booths, and the neighing of impatient horses, all the sounds of the success of the day still went on around them.
Justin returned, accompanied by Mrs Smith and Tildy, still clutching her new doll. Anne bent to put her arm across the child’s shoulder. ‘Tildy, this is the man who ran you down when you went to see the monster…’
‘She ran into the road,’ Smollett said. ‘Didn’t even look where she was going.’
‘I thought you said you did not see her,’ Anne said.
‘Well, she must have done. How else could she have been hit?’
‘Your curricle went on to the walkway, I saw it myself. You were going too fast. Tildy could have been killed. You must tell her you are sorry…’
‘Oh, Miss Hemingford, we don’t want to make a fuss,’ Mrs Smith said.
Justin touched the woman’s arm. ‘Leave it to Miss Hemingford,’ he said quietly. ‘Do not give the man a chance to wriggle out of it.’
She lapsed into silence as did everyone else. What Anne was asking was unheard of. For an officer in the Regent’s own regiment, used to lording it over everyone not his senior, to be forced to make an apology to a peasant child was asking too much and the bystanders were agog to see what he would do.
‘I am waiting,’ Anne said imperiously. ‘Do as I ask or I will personally put your conduct before the Regent. And do not think I cannot.’
‘She can,’ the Major assured him.
With a very red face, the Captain took a step towards the child. Tildy cringed a little as he loomed over her, but Anne held her steady. ‘If I knocked you down, then I am sorry for it,’ he said with an ill grace. ‘No harm done, I trust.’
‘She has recovered,’ Anne said. ‘But she still bears the scars and they are worth a hundred guineas of your money.’
There was a concerted gasp at the amount she suggested. What would a child of her class do with a hundred guineas? It was outlandish to suggest it. ‘It is too much,’ he said.
‘Would it still have been too much had you killed her?’
‘But I didn’t.’
‘How fortunate, or you would be looking at a charge of murder.’
He went from turkey-cock red to pale as a sheet in a few seconds. ‘Oh, very well, have it your own way. But I do not carry that amount on me.’
‘We will wait while you fetch it,’ Major Mancroft said.
‘But I am in the next heat.’
‘You have been disqualified.’
He continued to bluster, but, knowing he was beaten, went to obey. The Major strode over to set off the curricles in the next heat and the little crowd began to disperse. All except the little group involved. And Mrs Tremayne.
‘I hope you are satisfied,’ she hissed at Anne. ‘You have brought a good man down. If you had not been who you are, he would not have succumbed. It was a barbarous way to treat an officer and a gentleman.’
Anne ignored her and turned to speak to Mrs Smith, who was shaking with nerves. ‘I know you meant it for the best, Miss Hemingford,’ she said. ‘But I didn’t want a fuss and perhaps it was Tildy’s fault…’
‘No, it was not. I saw it and the Captain as good as admitted it, so think no more about it. Think instead of what you will do with the money…’
‘Oh, that’s easy, miss, I’ll give it to the doctor’s hospital.’
‘That is more than generous of you, but surely there is something you want?’
‘I have all I want. A good husband, a home…’
‘You could move somewhere better.’
‘What we have suits us. It is near the sea and my husband’s work.’ She smiled. ‘A lick of paint won’t go amiss, though. And the same goes for the boat, so perhaps I’ll keep a little back for that and a new dress for Tildy, but the hospital shall have the rest.’
Smiling, Anne turned to Justin, thinking he had heard what had been said, but he was in conversation with Mrs Tremayne. She opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again, when she heard the woman say, ‘So she is sister to the Earl of Bostock, is she? Ever since I learned her name I have been puzzling over it and now we know. She has been dallying with you, Justin Tremayne. She is far too high in the instep for you, even if you do leave off this foolish idea of being a doctor. You haven’t a hope in hell with her.’
Anne, taken aback by the venom in the woman’s voice, watched Justin for his reaction. His face was set, his mouth a hard line and his eyes narrowed and she thought he was about to explode. Instead he bowed and excused himself, then strode away. He did not even look at her.
Not for a second would he admit he had come to the same conclusion himself. Anne Hemingford was not for him; there were too many impediments. His need to earn a living, for a start. The allowance he had as his father’s second son and his naval pension would not keep her in the way to which her birth and upbringing had conditioned her. And that took no account of his conviction that he was meant to be a doctor, to heal the sick. He could not ask her to become a doctor’s wife; she would not agree to it in any case. If he gave that up, he would have to find something else to do that befitted his role as a gentleman, but he would be miserable if he did and so would she. He had been fooling himself if he had thought differently.