Page 25 of A Meddlesome Match (The Vaughns #3)

“There was an issue with the bunting,”

said Mrs. Tumble, glancing at the food with clear admiration. And despite everything, Dora prepared a cup of tea and offered her refreshment, which the lady took with an eager smile.

“And what issue was that?”

asked Dora, forcing the icy chill from her tone.

“Those working on the bunting are scattered all over the area, and Mrs. Reed realized she needed an assistant who has access to a gig to collect it all,”

said Mrs. Tumble, seeming to accept that excuse, though the distance was not so great as to require such a thing. “As Mrs. Burnham wasn’t available, Mrs. Reed spoke to Mrs. Galloway, who was willing to trade roles with Mrs. Farley, who is stepping in for Mrs. Houghton, and Mrs. Stapleton has something to do with it…”

Mrs. Tumble shook her head with a laugh. “The whole thing is a confusing web, but she approached me to replace Miss Vaughn for the arch decorating, which suited us both, as Miss Vaughn had some previous engagement this afternoon that she did not wish to shift—”

Dora knew precisely what that “engagement”

was and had chosen this afternoon for that precise reason. With the flower show far more pressing than an outing with Mr. Reed’s pupils, it had been easy enough to convince Miss Vaughn that this was the only time she and Dora could meet.

Mr. Reed couldn't woo a lady if she wasn’t present, after all.

“—As I wasn’t able to attend the meeting the other day, I wasn’t on hand to volunteer my services, and I’ve decorated so many flower archways that I could do it in my sleep,”

said Mrs. Tumble with a laugh. “Mrs. Reed thought I would suit better, and Miss Vaughn has a gig to assist her.”

Dora’s brows rose at the recitation. Clearly, she had underestimated Mrs. Reed—both her determination and her skill at rearranging everything to suit her needs.

And of all the ladies she might’ve chosen to set on Dora’s doorstep, Mrs. Trumble was the best possible candidate. Not only was she correct concerning her skill, but her temperament reminded one of a puppy, so eager and happy to be of service that one had to be truly heartless to turn her away.

But Gladys Reed wasn’t the only one who could scheme.

***

Good food. Good company. Good weather. Sadie couldn’t recall a more perfect afternoon. The sun stretched across the sky, and though the boys occasionally bothered them for more food, the lads inevitably preferred their hands to proper plates, stealing away with their provisions so that they could continue their game.

Deep and rich, Mr. Reed’s voice echoed through the clearing as he read aloud, the delicious timbre wrapping around the words like warm honey until it was difficult to focus on their meaning. All Sadie could hear was the gentle rise and fall of his tone, drifting on the air like the soothing strains of an orchestra, and though she ought to have minded that the story was slipping through her fingers, how could she when every syllable felt like a note played just for her?

And like that, the trials and tribulations of the past weeks drifted from her mind, allowing her to revel in the peace of the moment as the sun drifted across the sky.

“Boys!”

called Mr. Reed, breaking the calm as Sadie’s eyes shot open (though she hadn’t known they were closed).

Sitting up, she stretched to see that the lads had drifted quite far afield, though still within hearing distance—if they deigned to listen. Mr. Reed held the book in his hand as though wishing to return to it, but the stiffness in his spine made it clear he could not.

“We ought to walk over and herd them back,”

offered Sadie. “I could do with a stroll.”

Mr. Reed set the novel aside and rose to his feet, offering his hand to her. A little thing. Something her father and brothers had done many a time for her, yet this gentleman was not her kin, and the offer didn’t feel like a mere obligation he tossed about. His hand held hers carefully, and she swore his fingers lingered longer than was necessary.

His eyes smiled at her as they strolled along, leaving Sadie wondering if she were simply making too much of the details. Was Mr. Reed showing a preference? Or merely being polite? Did she wish it to be the former and not the latter?

Shaking aside those thoughts (though they remained in the background to poke and prod her at inopportune times), Sadie turned her attention to the path ahead. With the uneven ground, she was grateful for Mr. Reed’s steadying arm, and he was holding quite fast to her, standing as close as he could. Closer than was strictly necessary?

Clearing her throat, Sadie asked, “How goes your school?”

at the very moment Mr. Reed asked, “How is your family?”

“Pardon?”

she asked.

“I heard a rumor that your father has fallen ill,”

he explained, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “And you’ve been…troubled since they arrived home. I have wanted to ask, though not in mixed company.”

Sadie’s brows rose as her mind sorted through the past sennight, examining her behavior for any sign that she had added to the gossip circulating about her family.

“Peace, Miss Vaughn,”

he said, glancing at her. “I cannot say precisely what made me think you were distressed, so rest assured—your secrets are safe. But I couldn’t let the moment pass without offering to help bear up your burdens as you’ve done so for me.”

Drawing to a halt, Sadie considered his offer, and (bless the man) Mr. Reed simply faced her, awaiting her answer. Not long ago, that expression had seemed so stern and unfeeling, and though she understood why she had believed him to be, there were so many little signs that contradicted the cold fa?ade he exuded.

The darkness of his eyes remained unchanged, but within those black depths, concern shone brightly. The tight line of his lip was as sharp as ever, yet the slightest twist at the corner echoed that sentiment, granting it greater depth. Little signs so easily overlooked, yet the more Sadie knew him, the more she saw the tender heart beating beneath.

“Do you promise not to tell a soul?”

she asked, though she knew it was unnecessary. Mr. Reed was not one to gossip—certainly not about someone else’s affairs—but with her father so determined to keep his troubles hidden, Sadie felt compelled to ask. At the very least, it underscored the gravity of the confession.

Mr. Reed nodded, and a tightness in her chest eased. Sadie couldn’t say how long it had been there, but it loosened when she finally spoke aloud the words she’d kept hidden for so long.

“My father is going blind.”

Five words, yet they had the power to draw forth a sheen of tears. Drawing in a sharp breath, Sadie took Mr. Reed’s arm once more and pulled him along. It was better to move.

“A disease has been stealing away his sight for years, and his trip to London was one of many efforts to halt the deterioration and heal—”

That final word fractured, and Sadie drew a shaky breath, trying to steady herself against the pressure swelling in her chest, tightening with each passing second as if her very body recoiled from the truth. She wanted to act, to do something—anything—but there were no more remedies. No reprieve. For all the Vaughns’ education and experience, not even they could halt the amaurosis or the slow, inevitable dimming of the light.

Her parents’ argument replayed through her mind and spewed forth before Sadie knew what she was saying. So many hidden feelings and secret worries slipped past her defenses, spilling into the light as tears slid down her cheeks. When her vision blurred, something soft pressed into her hand, and she blinked to find Mr. Reed’s handkerchief, which she gratefully used to dab at her eyes.

“I apologize,”

she gasped, her words coming out jagged and broken. “I didn’t mean to fall to pieces.”

“No need to be embarrassed,”

said Mr. Reed. “He is your father, and you care deeply about his health and happiness. Of course this is distressing, and you have every right to show it. Especially when he is being so cavalier.”

Sadie nodded, her lungs shuddering as she fought for breath. “I always knew it was serious, but hearing my mother so afraid…It was startling. She is so strong and fearless.”

Taking up his arm again, Sadie squeezed it as Mr. Reed guided them along. The gentleman didn’t speak beyond the occasional word of support, but his silent strength was a balm for her bleeding heart, sealing up the weeping wounds that had been left to fester for far too long.

And when her words ran dry, the two continued to meander across the field, slowly making their way toward their chosen destination. The boys were within sight, leaving the pair free to move at their own pace, and Mr. Reed seemed determined to draw it out as long as she required.

“I wish there was something I could say or do—” he began.

“You are,”

said Sadie, turning a watery smile toward him. “Simply allowing me to speak is a great blessing. I haven’t anyone else who is both interested in my troubles and discreet…”

Sadie’s words drifted off as she considered that. Still gripped by denial, the family refused to release the fragile hope they clung to and speak of the matter openly—but this was precisely the sort of trouble a friend like Howard ought to shoulder.

Yet he hadn’t noticed her clear distress when he’d visited. Or if he had, he hadn’t bothered to ask. No, the entire conversation had revolved around his own heartache and sorrows, with not a thought spared for Sadie. He pushed his way into her world when it suited him, only to ignore her pleas to let her be—

Pain sparked in Sadie’s right eye, drawing forth a squeal as she released Mr. Reed’s arm and slammed a hand over it.