After a moment the door was opened by a maid, who immediately stood aside for Brand and Summer to enter a small anteroom containing an Indian couch upholstered with silver silk and crimson tassels.
Brand turned to the maid, whom Summer noticed was very like Gwenny, perhaps even a relative. “How is my sister?” he asked quietly.
She lowered her eyes. “Miss Huntingford has not said anything to me, sir, but...”
“Yes?”
“Well, sir, she will not confide in me because I am not her usual maid.” The girl, Martha, lowered her eyes, for Lord Lytherby had summarily dismissed Melinda’s maid for assisting in the elopement.
Brand nodded. “Very well, you may go for the moment.”
“Sir.”
Martha hurried away, and Brand led Summer through another door into the candlelit apartment beyond.
The room where Melinda sat was decorated entirely in blue and white, with delicate bamboo chairs and tables and a golden birdcage containing a canary. Through some open sliding doors Summer could see a cream-and-gold bedroom that was dominated by a bed with a gold silk pagoda canopy. There was also a dressing room and a small chamber that seemed to contain a writing desk and bookcase.
The curtains were undrawn, and Melinda’s slender figure was outlined against the window. She was seated on the deep sill, gazing steadily out at the darkness, and her unpinned honey-colored hair tumbled over the shoulders of her simple lavender woolen gown. Her face was very pale and strained, with tearstains on her cheeks. She didn’t look around as they came over to her; indeed she was so withdrawn that she didn’t even seem aware of their presence.
Brand put his hand gently to his sister’s chin and turned her face toward him. “How are you now, Melinda?”
For a long moment she stared up at him with large sorrowful lilac eyes, then she pulled her chin from his fingers and looked out of the window again.
“Melinda, you must tell me what happened,” Brand pleaded.
Summer put a warning hand on his sleeve and shook her head. “Go now, Brand,” she said firmly.
“But—”
“Go. It’s best.”
For a moment she thought he would refuse, but then he nodded and went out, closing the door softly behind him.
Summer removed her top hat and placed it on a table, then sat at the other end of the window ledge. From here she could see Melinda’s face much more clearly, and saw not only distress and anxiety, but that deep, deep dismay that comes from having one’s illusions shattered beyond all redemption.
“Miss Huntingford—or may I call you Melinda?”
There was no response.
“Please try to speak to me, Melinda, for I want to help if I can,” Summer said solicitously.
At last the lilac eyes moved toward her. “I know your voice, don’t I? Didn’t we speak at the ball?” Melinda said after a moment.
Summer gave a rueful smile. “We did. Not the best of beginnings, I fear.”
“When Brand told me he was going to bring Miss Merriam’s cousin to speak to me, I little thought...” Melinda gazed at her. “You were the woman who said all those things to him, weren’t you?”
Summer nodded resignedly. “I cannot deny it.”
Melinda searched her face. “Clearly, he hasn’t taken umbrage,” she murmured.
“I, er, hope you don’t think I spend my time being rude to people.” Summer shifted a little uncomfortably.
“I behaved very shabbily and deserved your wrath, but I do not know if Brand deserved it as well.”
Summer drew a long breath. “Well, I thought he did at the time.”
Melinda smoothed a fold of her skirt. It was an unhappy action that spoke volumes of the distress that engulfed her, and Summer leaned across to put her hand gently over those distracted fingers.
“I’ve come here to talk about you, Melinda, not me. Can you tell me what happened?”
Tears welled from Melinda’s eyes, and she drew her hand away. “I don’t want to speak of it.”
“You must, Melinda, and maybe it will be easier to tell me than tell Sir Brand. You do know why he’s so worried for you, don’t you? He’s afraid that Jeremy forced himself upon you.”
Melinda’s lips trembled, and suddenly she hid her face in her hands.
Summer got up quickly and went to put her arms around her. “What is it, Melinda? I want to understand and help, so please tell me.”
Melinda took her hands away from her face to reveal eyes that were brimming with tears, and suddenly words spilled out passionately from her shaking lips. “No one can possibly understand how used, foolish, and ashamed I feel! I adored him and really thought he loved me, so we eloped because we knew we would never be permitted to m ... marry.”
Melinda’s fists clenched with stifled emotion. “He said we would be married in the morning, but that for one night we would have to pretend we already were, otherwise the innkeeper would turn us out.”
Summer stroked Melinda’s hair. “And did you spend the night as man and wife?” she asked gently.
The reply was uttered in such a tiny voice that Summer almost didn’t hear. “No.”
Summer took Melinda’s hands. “Then what did you do?” she pressed carefully.
Melinda’s lips shook, and she tried to turn away.
Summer wouldn’t let go of her hands. “Please tell me, Melinda.”
“Jeremy tried to persuade me. He was tender and loving, but I refused to sleep in the same room with him. I said it was wrong before we were married. He became angry and locked the door before trying to force me onto the bed. I struggled and fought him off, and managed to scream for help. He kept trying to make me do what he wanted, but I kept screaming. People in the next room broke the door down to see what was happening. Jeremy ran out and drove off in the carriage. I haven’t seen him since.”
Summer tightened her hold over Melinda’s hands. “And that is all of it? There’s nothing you’re too afraid to mention?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you swear it, Melinda?”
Melinda nodded tearfully. “Yes,” she whispered.
“What happened after Jeremy left?”
“I told the innkeeper who I was, and he allowed me to stay the night. Then the next morning he sent a rider to Brand here at Bevincote.”
Summer sat down again, still holding Melinda’s hands. “Believe me, you’ve been fortunate, for no lasting harm has been done, except perhaps to your pride and your trust in men.”
“I don’t feel fortunate, I feel more wretched than you can ever know. Have you ever been taken in so completely by someone you loved?”
Summer thought of how devastated she’d felt when she’d watched Brand drive out of the Black Lion yard. “Well, I thought I had once, and for a time I felt as crushed as you do now, but Melinda, just think how very much worse it would be for you right now if you’d become Jeremy’s wife. A man who could treat you so unspeakably before marriage in order to gain your fortune would have continued to treat you badly after, so no matter how dreadful your present feelings, you have been fortunate to escape from him.”
Melinda clung to every comforting word. “Yes, yes, I suppose I have.”
Adroitly, Summer turned the conversation to something pleasant and exciting. “Of course you have, and soon you’ll have your first London Season. You’ll be the center of attention, I promise, because you’re a very beautiful young lady.”
Melinda brightened a little. “I’ll be assured of the Duke of Chandworth’s interest.”
“Really? Then you’ll be the envy of every other woman in town, for he is without a doubt the catch.”
Melinda had been smiling, but suddenly her face became sad again, and more tears welled from her eyes. “I don’t deserve to be happy, not after the awful way I’ve behaved toward Francis and Miss Merriam. I can’t believe I flirted so flagrantly with him, or that I was so cruel to Miss Merriam. How they must both despise me.”
“Caro is too kind to bear a grudge, especially toward someone who has suffered such a dreadful ordeal; indeed when last I saw her, she was all anxiety for your safety. As for Mr. Lytherby, well, when I saw him a few minutes ago, he was anxious about you too and certainly did not look all daggers at the mention of your name.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Of course I do.”
Melinda began to rally a little. “I’m glad Brand brought you to speak to me, Mrs. Courtenay.”
“My name is Olivia. If I have taken the liberty of calling you by your first name, surely it is only fair that you should do the same to me?”
“Very well, Olivia.” Melinda smiled at her, then drew a long breath. “Brand is right about the diamond necklace, isn’t he? Jeremy did steal it from poor Lady Harvey?”
“I can think of no other explanation.”
“And he stole from his fellow officers, as well as indulging in highway robbery?”
“That must also be so, I fear.”
“I still find it hard to believe he is so villainous. When I first knew him, he was so perfect in every way ...” Melinda swallowed. “Well, I don’t know where the army money is, but I will see that the necklace is sent back to Lady Harvey.”
“She will be overjoyed, for it is very special to her.”
“I want to put all matters right, Olivia.”
“What other matters are there?”
Melinda looked away. “Francis and Miss Merriam. Somehow I must make it up to them for my despicable conduct.”
“They will not expect that of you.”
“Maybe not, but I expect it of me.”
Summer got up and tactfully changed the subject again. “Shall I bring Sir Brand now? He is so worried about you that it seems unkind to leave him pacing up and down outside, for that is what he has been doing, I’m sure.”
But Melinda put out a quick hand. “If first names are the order, Olivia, I think you may refer to him simply as Brand, don’t you? For it’s clear even to me that you are more to him than a mere acquaintance, and I doubt very much if in private you call him Sir.”
Summer colored a little. “No, I don’t,” she admitted, then hurried out to tell him that all was well. She found him in the anteroom with Francis, and he turned the instant the door opened.
“How is she?” he asked.
“I think everything is all right, Brand. She’s ready to speak to you now.”
“Did Fenwick—?”
“I’m sure not, and she will tell you all about it if you are gentle with her.” Summer smiled. “Mention of the London Season is most remedial.”
As he went in to his sister, Summer turned to Francis. “Miss Huntingford fears you will always be angry with her, so I promised her you wouldn’t. I trust that it was not an ill-advised liberty?”
“Not at all.”
“Good, for she feels very bad.” She lowered her eyes. “Actually, so do I.”
“You? But what have you to feel bad about?”
“Well, Brand and I have given conflicting stories about how we met, and you must be wondering—”
He laughingly interrupted her. “It’s none of my business, Mrs. Courtenay, and besides, conflicting stories make for interesting conjecture.”
“I’m sure they do.”
“More interesting by the moment,” he murmured, observing the blush creeping over her cheeks. Then he exhaled slowly. “Mrs. Courtenay, may I presume upon your good nature and confide in you concerning a rather sensitive matter?”
“Sensitive?”
“It concerns Caro’s father.”
“Uncle Merriam? Why, certainly ...” Unbidden, she recalled that moment at the ball when her uncle had clearly not wished to greet Francis. Was that what this was about now?
Francis smiled. “I’m grateful. Shall we walk a little in the corridor? I find it easier to talk if I do that.”
“Of course.” She took the arm he offered, and they left the anteroom to stroll slowly along the passage.
“Mrs. Courtenay, just before Melinda disappeared, my father informed me that he had reason to believe Mr. Merriam has become deeply opposed to my match with Caro.”
She didn’t know what to say.
Francis went on. “Apart from seeming a little odd toward me when he arrived at the ball the other night, Mr. Merriam hasn’t given me any reason to think such a thing might be so. Although, on reflection, I fancy he was a little cool when Brand and I called at Oakhill House a day or so after that.”
He looked at her. “Is there anything I should know, Mrs. Courtenay?”
She abided by the decision she and Brand had made to say nothing until forced to, and so gave him a false smile. “There’s nothing I am aware of,” she said untruthfully.
Francis went on. “You have no idea how relieved that makes me.”
Her conscience pricked, and she felt she had to say something. “To be frank, Mr. Lytherby, I would have thought any opposition more likely to come from Lord Lytherby.”
“My father? Well, there is no doubt that like any father he would prefer me to snap up a great heiress, but he will always place my happiness first.”
He looked hastily at her. “Please don’t tell Caro, for it gives the impression that my father does not care for her, and that isn’t so; he’s actually very fond of her.”
Fond of her? That was why he referred to her as a nonentity, was it? Summer bit back the angry retort that blistered to her lips, for it was hardly Francis’s fault that his father was so devious and unpleasant.
After a moment Francis smiled sheepishly. “I’m worrying unnecessarily, for my father has it wrong, does he not?”
Somehow she met the smile and was glad to retrace their steps because at that moment Brand and Melinda came out of the apartment.
Melinda was pathetically uncertain of how to speak to Francis. “I... I’m so sorry for behaving as I did, Francis. I can’t think that you and Miss Merriam will ever be able to forgive me.”
“It’s over with, Melinda, so you must not think any more of it.” He pulled her into his arms for a moment before drawing back to look into her tear-reddened eyes. “Come, we’ll adjourn to the drawing room to broach a bottle of my father’s best champagne to celebrate that all is well again.”
Brand took Summer’s hand and drew it over his sleeve, but as they all began to walk toward the drawing room, Summer’s thoughts bore no relation whatsoever to the smile upon her lips. Celebrate that all was now well? How could she possibly do that when she knew all was still far from well!
Brand glanced at her. “I haven’t forgotten my promise to convey you back to Oakhill House in a carriage,” he said with a smile.
She nodded, then looked uneasily up at him. “We have to talk, Brand. Lord Lytherby has been saying things to Francis about my uncle having changed his mind about the match, and Francis asked me if I knew anything. I didn’t like not telling him everything.”
He searched her eyes. “It will seem churlish if we don’t take champagne with them now, so we’ll talk in the carriage on the way back to Oakhill House.”
She nodded, and they followed the others to the drawing room, where Lord Lytherby soon joined them.
Summer found it hard to tolerate his frequently expressed relief regarding Melinda’s timely escape from Jeremy, because she knew his only real concern was that his ward and her fortune were still available for his own purposes. As to the false warmth he also expressed toward Francis’s match with Caro, that was beyond the pale, so she said very little as she sipped her champagne. But as she watched Lord Lytherby, she became aware of a subtle change in him, as if a little of his spirit had been dampened. He certainly wasn’t the same man he’d been on the night of the ball.
When at last Brand led her out to the waiting carriage to take her back to Oakhill House, it wasn’t of Lord Lytherby that she thought in the few moments before the vehicle drew away, but of the future, where surely it was now all over for her modern self? Oh, if only she could be certain, but she didn’t dare rely upon anything. She almost wished she could become Summer Stanway again for a few moments, just to see. It was a very fleeting wish.
As the carriage drove away from Bevincote, Brand wrapped his cloak around them both. Her head rested on his shoulder, and as he stroked her cheek with ungloved fingertips, she gazed up at the starlit sky. Stars were timeless, but she prayed that from now on for her they would always gaze down on the nineteenth century.