Page 35 of The Song of the Siren (The Venturesome Ladies of Little Valentine #2)

There was silence for a long moment, and Stonehaven sensed movement, momentarily startled when the reverend took his hand. “You are a good man, my lord, and I know you will prosper and live a remarkable life. I cannot wait to see what you may achieve in my lifetime.”

Stonehaven grasped the man’s hand warmly.

“Thank you. The first thing you will observe is my leaving Little Valentine. Providing Anne does not object overly, there will be no marriage. You were right about a good many things and marrying a woman I do not love and who does not love me was certainly one of them. Anne deserves better than that, and so do I.”

“Ah. If I say I am sorry, you will think me a false friend, but I am sorry it was not the solution you believed. Something better is waiting for you, though, that much I do believe, and so must you. Have faith, Lord Stonehaven. Happiness is there, you must simply trouble yourself to find it.”

“Finding things has become a rather more complicated undertaking of late,” Stonehaven remarked dryly.

“But some things cannot be found simply by looking for them,” Honeywell said cryptically.

Stonehaven laughed, though he hadn’t a clue what the old man meant. “I’ll drink to that,” he said all the same, and did so.

Stonehaven rode beside George, trying to take pleasure in the peace of the moment. George’s company was uncomplicated, the horses’ rhythmic stride soothing, the scent of the woodland around them and the touch of cool evening air against his skin reminding him he was alive, and damned lucky to be.

“George, how do you fancy being my valet?” The question had been on his mind of late, especially now that Anne would not be returning to Haven House with him.

“I ain’t no valet!” George replied, sounding aghast. “I mean, I can give you a decent shave, but I don’t know nowt about what a gentleman wears to what event, nor about how to care for all those fancy coats you’ve got, and polishing boots and—”

“All right, all right, keep your hair on. I misspoke. Let me rephrase that, for a valet can be found who can do those things you’ve not trained to do, but you—dammit George, you have been my eyes of late, and I trust you. I need a fellow I can trust.”

“I’m a gardener, my lord,” George replied doggedly.

“So? What if I gave you the opportunity to be something else as well? You need not stop being a gardener. Indeed, I would give you your own little cottage on the estate and you could have your own garden. I pay well, enough to support a wife and a family.”

There was silence for a long moment.

“Well?” Stonehaven demanded impatiently.

“My Lord, you are akin to being run down by a boulder. Give a fellow a chance to think, can’t you?”

Stonehaven laughed. “Fine, fine. But not too long. I’m leaving, you see?”

“When?”

“Tomorrow. At first light.”

“So soon?” George sounded dismayed by this, which Stonehaven hoped was a good sign.

“It’s for the best. Can’t get too comfy here, I might take root.”

“It happens. Little Valentine is like that, a place to set down roots.”

“My roots are not here, I’m afraid, much as I would like them to be,” Stonehaven said with a smile. “They’re ancient and dug in deep, and my ancestors would come back to haunt me if I did not do them justice.”

“Aye, reckon so,” George said, sounding amused.

“Well, I suppose you’ll need me a while yet, that’s true enough.

How about I ask the reverend if I can come with you for a month, and we’ll see how it goes?

Mayhap I’ll be what you need, or maybe I won’t.

Maybe I’ll miss this place too bad, or perhaps I’ll enjoy life somewhere new. Can’t say until I try. That suit you?”

Stonehaven gave a bark of laughter. “Damn me. You realise you’re negotiating with the Marquess of Stonehaven? Never did I meet such an audacious fellow. Fine, fine, I agree. On your terms then, George. You may give me a trial period and see if I live up to your expectations.”

“Now then, my lord, you’re funning and putting words in my mouth,” George said reproachfully.

“Am I buggery,” Stonehaven snorted, to which remark both men burst out laughing.

On arriving at The Mermaid’s Tale, Stonehaven gave Trojan a pat of thanks, relieved he’d not had to walk.

“It’s a fine evening, I think?” he said, lifting his face to the sky, aware that the light was changing as the day drew to a close.

“That it is. The sun will set in an hour or so, but the sky is already the colour of a ripe peach. Right pretty, it is.”

“You’re a poet, George,” Stonehaven remarked with a grin.

“Hardly that, my lord, but I can appreciate something lovely as well as the next fellow, I reckon.”

George drew the horses to a halt outside the hotel, and Stonehaven dismounted, accepting his walking stick from George with a smile.

“Have a drink at the Ship rather than kick your heels here. I’ll join you shortly.”

“But, my lord—”

“Go, go. I’m sure Mrs Adamson can ask one of her staff to see me over the road when I’m done. I won’t fall into the sea, I promise,” he said firmly.

“Aye. I reckon. Well, ask for Mr Cogger. He’s the caretaker at the Mermaid.”

“Cogger. Right you are. I’ll see you shortly, then. Here, have one for me,” he added, tossing a coin in George’s direction.

“Cheers,” George remarked, brightening at this unlooked-for boon.

Cautiously, Stonehaven turned around, using the stick to orientate himself and find the steps to the building.

Remembering there were three, he navigated them without incident and found the door handle.

Aware that George had not yet retreated but stood watching to ensure he did not, in fact, fall on his arse, Stonehaven turned.

“See, not completely useless,” he said smugly.

“I never thought it,” George replied, clicking his tongue to get Trojan to walk on, and making his way to The Ship Inn.

Stonehaven opened the door, treading carefully on the polished wood floor, and sweeping the stick back and forth to determine if there were any obstacles such as stacks of packing cases likely to send him sprawling.

He made it to the desk without incident and slowly used his hand to discover the bell, grasping it firmly this time and giving it a sharp ring.

“Good evening, sir, what—oh! Lawrence,” Anne said, and Stonehaven smiled at the surprise in her voice. “Is George not with you?”

“No, actually. We rode down together, and he left me outside. I’m not quite so helpless as we once thought, you see.”

“I don’t believe I ever thought of you as helpless,” Anne objected.

“Perhaps not, but I think perhaps you are guilty of underestimating me. I don’t blame you, I have done no differently, but things have changed.”

“I see,” Anne replied, her tone giving nothing away.

“Might we speak privately?”

“Of course. Come, this way.”

Stonehaven took her arm, allowing her to guide him.

“This is my office,” she remarked as they entered. “Actually, it’s more of a glorified broom cupboard, but it’s private and my staff know better than to interrupt me if the door is closed. There is a seat to your left.”

Stonehaven nodded, found the chair, and sat himself down. “I won’t keep you. I suspect you know what I am about to say, sharp as you are.”

“You’re calling off the marriage,” she replied briskly.

“I am. Providing you allow me to withdraw my offer. I am a gentleman and will keep to our agreement if you insist, but I realise now it would be a mistake for us both.”

“I see.”

Stonehaven waited.

“What has brought about this change of heart?” she asked, sounding curious but otherwise giving little away.

“The reverend, I suppose. He was less than delighted by the arrangement. I must admit that surprised me, for he is forever lamenting the fact that the men here are not queuing up to offer for me.”

“The men here are fools,” Stonehaven replied with a smile.

“But we are old friends, there is too much shared history and… and the truth is I have recently discovered that I have a heart after all, much as it pains me to admit it. I do not wish to marry someone I do not love. I am fond of you, Anne. You were once as a sister to me, and I would very much like to recapture that friendship, but you are not the woman I wish to marry.”

“I never was,” she replied tartly, though he felt no censure there. “Who is?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, I ought to have anticipated that question. I cannot tell you that, for I cannot marry her. She is not for me, and I will not dishonour her by speaking of her.”

“She’s married?”

The demand was quick, and Stonehaven definitely heard disapproval now.

“No.” He sighed. “And whilst you might think me the devil in disguise, neither have I taken liberties.”

Many liberties, he amended, wincing inwardly. All Anne needed to know was that he had not ruined the girl, and there was no chance of a bastard child being added to the inhabitants of this charming village in nine months’ time.

“I am relieved to hear it, but who is she? I don’t understand. The only women you can have spoken with are the Honeywell—” She gasped. “Beatrice? You don’t mean Beatrice Honeywell? I knew the child was in love with you, but—”

“What?” Stonehaven started at the information. “Don’t be ridiculous. She is certainly not in love with me. I agree she admired me, for she blushed like a ripe cherry every time I looked her way, but as for love, what nonsense you women talk, making so much of things.”

“And what fools men are, thinking they know the workings of a woman’s heart,” Anne replied with more than a touch of acerbity. There was silence for a moment before Anne exclaimed, “Sally! You said there was a serving girl named Sally. Oh, lord. Lawrence, you didn’t—”

“No, I didn’t, damn your eyes,” Stonehaven said crossly.

“I said exactly that, did I not? But yes, as it happens. And don’t look so appalled—and yes, I know you are.

I might be blind, but I know you too well.

It was neither of our fault, she… she was kind, and somehow she gave me back my pride, and that is a gift of immeasurable value to a man in my position.

I thought I had lost that, lost the man I was entirely, but she made me feel whole again.

If you want the dreadful truth, I am leaving before I do something truly disastrous like marrying her, even though doing so feels like dying.

” Stonehaven snapped his mouth shut, appalled by his own honesty.

He had not meant to say such things, exposing a raw and vulnerable wound, but the words had burst from him without his consent.

“You’re not taking her with you?”

“Dammit, Anne, what do you take me for? I told you I would not dishonour her, and so you immediately think I would make her my mistress?”

There was a sigh, and Stonehaven heard Anne shuffling around items on her desk. She always fidgeted when she was cross or in the wrong. Oh, how she hated being in the wrong, but she always admitted it when she was.

“I beg your pardon,” Anne replied, her sincerity audible. “I ought not to have said that. You were always honourable, Stonehaven.”

“Not honourable enough to wed you when you needed me, though, eh?”

Anne laughed. “Oh, drat you. Don’t keep throwing that in my face.

You were right, I was wrong. Very wrong, and I am sorry I have fixed my anger and resentment upon you all these years when you did not deserve it.

It was my family who shamed me, who let me down when they ought to have stood at my side.

I beg you will forgive me for all the things I said to you that day. ”

Stonehaven smiled. “Not unless you forgive yourself for what happened to me. It was not your fault, Anne. I have placed the boy who did it in the reverend’s care.

He will not hang, nor be transported, and I must tell you I feel nothing but relief in knowing his fate is no longer in my hands.

I would like to relieve myself of the burden of your guilt too. ”

Anne gasped. “You have forgiven him?”

“Well….” Stonehaven grimaced. “I’m not a bloody saint.

I wouldn’t go that far. I’m not about to invite him to tea, but I’ll not send him to the gallows, nor to New South Wales for that matter.

Honeywell will take him on. If he can make me see sense, that young fool does not stand an earthly chance. ”

Anne laughed, and he heard an echo of the young woman she had once been, carefree and full of fun. “Very well, Lawrence, have it your way. I free you of the burden of my guilt, if that is truly how you feel about it.”

“Free yourself too, Anne,” he said gently. “Don’t hide any longer. Reclaim your life, be the woman you were destined to be.”

“Oh, Stonehaven,” Anne replied, her voice full of fond exasperation. “Do you still not understand? That is exactly what I have done.”

“Well, I always was rather slow on the uptake,” he said, pleased when she laughed again, sounding more relaxed than he had heard her since they had met again after so many years.

“I’m saying nothing, else I will be forced to apologise again.”

Stonehaven smiled, but his mind was still occupied with Sally, and the thought that he would never see her again.

He had determined to leave at first light the next morning, before anyone was up.

The idea of having to bid the family goodbye, wondering if Sally was watching him go and not knowing, it was more than he could endure. “Anne, would you do something for me?”

“If I can,” Anne replied, responding to his serious tone.

“Look out for Sally. If-If ever she is in difficulty or—”

“I’ll look out for her,” she said at once. “I’ll ensure she is a member of our club. The whole point of the Venturesome Ladies is to give women from all walks of life a voice, and support if they require it.”

Stonehaven opened his mouth to object, to say that he had meant for her to contact him, but he realised at once that she was right. Perhaps sensing his distress, Anne relented somewhat.

“If there is ever a difficulty that I cannot fix, a situation that requires your influence or your fortune, you may be certain that I will contact you.”

He let out a breath, the constriction in his chest easing a little. “Thank you, Anne. You are, and have always been, a good friend.”

“Not always,” she objected. “But I will be from now on. You have my word.”