“It might work if circumstances were different.” She turned her face away. “I have been thinking it might be better for Valentine and Julia if I wasn’t living with them.”
“Where would you go?” He stopped Melanie outside Mrs. Clemens’s residence and stared into a face grown even paler than when he’d first seen her that day.
“I am reconsidering my decision to remain in Brighton. Perhaps it would be best if I return to my parents before the festive season is upon us.”
He was stunned. “But I thought that business of you leaving was forgotten?”
“I have come to believe you were correct. I am not needed here.” She hurried to the weather-beaten door and rapped sharply on it before he could refute her words.
She was needed. She was wanted.
A boy of about twelve met them and ushered them into a shabby front room. “Miss Merton is here again, Mama.”
Mrs. Clemens sat with her youngest child on her knee, staring into a cold hearth. She blinked and looked around. When she made to rise and greet them, Melanie quickly urged her to remain seated and took a place at her side. “Mr. George has come with good news for you.”
The babe Mrs. Clemens held reached for Melanie, and to his surprise, she perched the child on her lap as if she were accustomed to it. He tore his gaze away as she fussed, rewrapping the child in a blanket to keep him warm. There was a definite chill in the room. Apparently his help couldn’t come too soon.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, indeed. I have a house to offer you on Russell Road. It might be a bit cramped at first, but should do well enough for the winter.”
Mrs. Clemens nodded, and then shook her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
Melanie juggled the child to grasp the woman’s hand. “It is true. You have a home again.”
Mrs. Clemens topped sideways onto Melanie’s shoulder and sobbed, great gasping tears that brought her children running into the room. Melanie put her arm around the woman. “Children, would you take young Vincent and see if you cannot find his rattle? Your mother needs a moment.”
The eldest girl took her brother with a smile and dragged her brothers and sisters with her. Melanie squeezed Mrs. Clemens as if they were old friends. “They always listen to Beatrice, don’t they?”
Mrs. Clemens turned her head toward Melanie. “I don’t know what I would do without her.”
“Well, thanks to Mr. George’s generosity, you’ll never need to find out.” She cast a warm smile in his direction and then dug a fine white handkerchief from her reticule to dab away the woman’s tears. “Now, would you like to hear about your new home? It is clean and vacant and you will be able to move there today.”
Walter filled Mrs. Clemens’s ears with the particulars of the property, the nearest neighbors, while also stressing it would be a bit of a squeeze. He stood and checked the time on his pocket watch. “I have arranged for four fellows to lend a hand with the heavy lifting if that is acceptable to you. Honest and trustworthy men who will take care of everything you require done and give you no cause for concern. They should be here directly. This is your key.”
The woman grasped it tightly to her chest. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
He smiled at her warmly. “Some of my happiest memories are of hearing Mr. Clemens sing in the tavern, and I was very sorry to hear of his death. To do any less for his widow would be to slight those happy memories.”
Her eyes welled with tears again. “He had a fine singing voice.”
“He did indeed.”
While Melanie said her goodbyes, Walter silently observed her. Today she’d discarded her reserve in order to comfort the grieving widow. She was good with children, and although it wasn’t his place—or wise—a compulsion to explain something to her that would be positively shocking stirred in him.
Avoiding children did not mean she must not marry.
Melanie was making a mistake in denying herself the chance to be happy, and she was clearly unaware of the alternatives.
Eleven
With the matter of moving Mrs. Clemens into her new home underway, Melanie allowed herself a moment to relax. “You are a good man, Mr. George.”
And generous. She’d had trouble hiding her astonishment at his offer of a home for the family earlier, and later again in the arrangements he’d made for moving them there. He’d also ensured they’d have food on the table and in the pantry. She couldn’t imagine another soul being so generous without expecting something in return.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said quietly.
His tone was very much like the Walter she’d always met with in the past—self-deprecating and calm—and her nerves settled. She was sorry circumstances prevented them from being on good terms all the time.
He sighed. “Now, we have the walk home for privacy, so tell me what you did to put the vicar’s nose so far out of joint that he would be openly rude to you.”