Marrying Miss Hemingford Read Online Free PDF Page A

himself to make time to have his hair cut.
    Anne hurried through the waiting room, more crowded than ever, and out into the narrow lane, breathing deeply. It was not only the strange smells: a mixture of blood, sweat, putrefaction and harsh soap, which had been overpowering, but the whole atmosphere of the place and the demeanour of the man who ran it. He had had a powerful effect on her. Not since she was a seventeen-year-old had any man made her shake like she was shaking now, with embarrassment that he might have detected it, with anger that he could be so cool towards her and with the feelingthat she was being pitched into something over which she had no control. And that had not happened in a very long time. She had always been in control of herself, her life, even of her grandfather and he was an earl, so why should a tiny little girl and a strange man take that away?
    If she had met him in someone’s upper-class drawing room, dressed in pantaloons and morning coat with pristine starched cravat and his hair carefully coiffured, she would have taken him for a gentleman. He was educated and self-assured, but at the same time he seemed oblivious of his good looks and certainly unconcerned about his clothes. His cravat was unstarched and was nothing but a simple knot and his shirt was spotted with blood. It was evident his work was the most important thing in his life. Was he married, she wondered, and how could a wife compete with such dedication?
    Back on the sea front, it took only a few minutes to find some steps down to the beach, where she picked her way over the shingle to where the bathing huts were lined up. Many of the contraptions were already in the water, but Anne approached the first one on the sands. ‘I am looking for Mrs Smith,’ she told the attendant.
    â€˜We take it in turns, ma’am,’ she was told. ‘’Tis fairer that way. If you want to take a dip…’
    â€˜No, you misunderstand. I am looking for Mrs Smith, the mother of little Tildy. Her daughter has been involved in an accident…’
    â€˜Oh, tha’s different.’ She looked over the water to one where one of the women stood waiting to help her customer back into the hut. ‘Martha, this ’ere lady says your Tildy’s met with an accident.’ Her voice easily carried andthe woman hurried out, holding her arms above the surf as she waded back to dry land.
    â€˜What’s ’appened to ’er, what’s ’appened to my Tildy?’ she demanded breathlessly. ‘Where is she?’
    Almost before Anne had finished explaining what had happened, Mrs Smith had asked her colleague to see to her customer and was off up the beach to the promenade with Anne at her heels. She burst breathlessly into the waiting room where Mrs Armistead was conducting the next patient into the surgery. ‘Where’s my little girl? Where’s Tildy?’
    Mrs Armistead pointed along the corridor and the distraught woman rushed off to the back region of the house, still followed by Anne.
    Tildy was lying on the couch playing with a rag doll. A little colour had returned, but the white bandage made her head look enormous. Mrs Smith rushed over and fell to her knees beside her. ‘Tildy, Tildy, what ’ave you bin up to now?’ She leaned back to look at the little girl. ‘I’ll whip that Tom within an inch of ’is life, so I will.’
    â€˜Weren’t ’is fault, Ma. Pa fetched ’im.’
    â€˜Why? Your pa knows Tom ’as to mind you. And even if he left you, you should ’ave stayed at ’ome.’
    â€˜I know, but ’e said they’d caught a monster and I wanted to see it.’ Catching sight of Anne, she smiled. ‘’Allo, lady. Ma, tha’s the lady what picked me up.’
    Mrs Smith turned to Anne, who realised she had misjudged the woman; she evidently cared very deeply about her child. She was, Anne realised, young,