A Sense of Destiny (Perceptions Book 6), page 5
‘Living with the aristocracy has turned your head and given you ideas above your station,’ he said, his face puce with rage as she dared to continue defying his wishes. He had once wielded absolute control over Flora but she now refused to accept his advice and it clearly infuriated him. ‘You believe you will attract a titled suitor—if indeed you have not already done so.’ He tilted his head back and looked at her down the length of his nose.
Flora stood. ‘This is my home and I will not sit here and allow you to insult me in it. Please leave. You may tell the bishop and anyone else who raises questions about my living standards that I am now independently if modestly wealthy, which ought to put an end to all speculation and prevent any damage to your own aspirations. That is all I am prepared to do for you, and frankly it’s more than you deserve.’ She rang the bell and Polly appeared with her father’s hat and gloves. ‘Good day to you, sir.’ She did not curtsey or offer him her hand. ‘My respects to my mother and sisters.’
Her father took his things from Polly’s hand without looking at her, or bothering to thank her. ‘You’ve changed, Flora,’ he said, sending her a puzzled look, ‘and I no longer recognise you.’
‘I shall look upon that as both a compliment and a comfort.’
She watched her father from the window as he climbed into his waiting carriage. He didn’t look back. She knew she had angered him but didn’t have the strength to care, and flopped back into a chair. She wondered if he would now give up on her or if his knowledge of her modest wealth would encourage him to harass her for different reasons. She sighed as she anticipated requests for bequests to good causes. That was partly why she had kept the news of her windfall from her family.
Well, she thought, exhaling between pursed lips, he was gone, at least for now. Exhausted after her long morning and the emotional exchange, Flora’s spirits revived when she recalled that she was now free to speculate about her forthcoming visit to Beranger Court. She would enjoy seeing the family again, especially Mary and Emma. Her feelings for Luke were more complex, and she was well aware that things could never be the same between them. She felt a moment’s regret, but no more than that. Her father was quite wrong about her ambitions. She had always known that nothing could come of the attraction between herself and Luke and she had done the right thing in distancing herself from him.
Now she unwittingly found herself living on Archie’s doorstep. A lasting romantic connection between the two of them was even more impossible, given that Archie outranked Luke, but he seemed determined to maintain their friendship and she didn’t have the strength to fight against that desire. He was lonely; so too was she.
There was nothing more to it than that.
Flora stirred herself, rang for Polly and together they went through her extensive wardrobe of clothing, most of which had been generously bestowed upon her by the countess. She’d had little occasion to wear any of the fine evening gowns in her new life and looked forward to giving them an airing at Beranger Court.
*
Luke dressed for dinner, pleased that he was about to be reunited with all his siblings bar Sam, who managed the family’s interests in Boston. They had arrived over the course of the afternoon, but Luke had been detained on estate business in Swindon and had only just got back to Beranger Court.
He entered the drawing room with Romulus at his heels and received a hug from his sister Emma, who had blossomed since embracing marriage and motherhood. Both institutions suited her, and he was pleased to see her glowing with happiness. He shook the hand of her husband, his old friend Alvin Watson.
‘How have you been, big brother?’ Emma asked. ‘We have barely seen you since Grandmamma’s funeral, but I am determined not to dwell upon that unhappy event. Grandmamma would be appalled if we did, and would likely come back and haunt us.’
Luke’s response was lost in a cacophony of sound as the rest of his siblings joined them. Henry was the last and brought with him Mrs Pearson, who was his grandmother-in-law and who had been an intimate friend of Luke’s own grandmother. But it was their companion who immediately caught Luke’s attention. Presumably this was Miss Violet Baxter, Mrs Pearson’s goddaughter and the lady Mary had warned him to expect. She was remarkably pretty, with large, sparkling silver-grey eyes that held a hint of uncertainty as she took in her elegant surroundings. A tumble of dark blonde curls were arranged to enhance her elfin features. Her cheekbones were high, her nose straight and her mouth lush and full. He liked what he saw but only realised he was staring when Henry cleared his throat and made the introduction.
‘Welcome to my home, Miss Baxter,’ he said, smiling as he raised her from her curtsey.
‘Thank you, my lord. It is kind of you to include me in what is obviously a family occasion. I feel as though I am intruding.’
‘Not at all. Your presence will make us recall our manners and prevent us from killing one another,’ Luke replied.
‘Violet is just returned from Switzerland,’ Mrs Pearson said.
‘Switzerland?’ Luke raised a brow, watching the lady as she accepted a glass of champagne from Woodley’s tray with a nod of thanks. ‘A delightful country. I visited myself several years ago. What took you to that part of the world?’
She smiled, a gesture that lit up her lovely features and highlighted the pale blue flecks in her silver-grey eyes. ‘My father was a master watchmaker,’ she said with modest affection in her tone. ‘His skill often took him back to his roots, since despite his success he never forgot where it had all started. His own father was Swiss, and although Papa was born in this country, he looked upon Switzerland as his second home.’ Luke nodded, thinking his success in that field would account for her superb attire and the discreet but high quality jewels at her throat and ears. A diamond occupied the ring finger of her left hand. ‘It was where he served his apprenticeship, since he was determined to follow in his father’s footsteps.’
‘You are very proud of his achievements.’
‘Don’t all children take pride in their parents?’ She smiled at him. ‘For the gift of their births, if nothing else.’
Luke thought of Flora, knowing that his misplaced hero worship of his own father had prevented him from achieving his heart’s desire. The heart in question gave a painful jolt, reminding him that he had been a blind fool and that it was now too late to rectify his errors. His visit to Flora at Fox Hollow shortly after she moved there had made it clear to him that she would never have him now. She needed him to believe in all aspects of her character, and he could not. Perhaps she never would have accepted him anyway, regardless of his faith in her beliefs; she was one of the few women in the entire country who would not. It was impossible to know and pointless to waste any more time speculating upon lost opportunities.
‘Your father is retired?’ he asked, noticing that he now had Miss Baxter to himself. The others had drifted away into separate conversations. He felt safe enough, given that she was engaged to be married, but he was also surprised to feel a pang of regret about that situation. She was the first lady he had met for a long while who had immediately attracted his interest. Perhaps that was because she was spoken for. He watched her as she caught sight of Rom, stretched full length on the rug in front of the fire, getting in everyone’s way. Her eyes lit up, she exclaimed with delight and put her glass aside so that she could bend to make a fuss of him. Needless to say, Rom lapped up the attention.
‘He’s so adorable,’ she said. ‘I love dogs but have never been able to have one. We moved around so much, you see.’ She straightened up and reclaimed her glass but didn’t drink from it. ‘And no, my father is not retired. He died a little over a year ago.’
‘I am sorry to hear that, Miss Baxter. My own grandmother passed away recently so I fully understand the pain of losing a loved one.’
‘My godmother told me. She was very attached to the countess. You have my sympathies.’
‘Your mother is not with you?’
Miss Baxter shook her head. ‘No, she died when I was still quite young. Don’t feel too sorry for me,’ she said with the suggestion of a smile. ‘I had a childhood that required me to live my education, for want of a better explanation. Papa travelled the world passing on his expertise to apprentice watch-makers, and he took me with him. I have been all over Europe, experienced the geography of every country I visited as well as picking up a knowledge of their languages, histories and cultures. I had a wonderful time of it. Far nicer than being confined to a schoolroom with a governess.’
‘I can imagine.’ Luke smiled at her. ‘Do you intend to settle in England?’
A shadow passed through her expressive eyes. ‘My plans are not finalised. I am to be married in the spring to Anthony Walker. He is…was, my father’s most successful student and became his partner in later years. We became close and…well, matters are agreed between us.’
Luke didn’t think she looked especially delighted at the prospect of marrying the man, but it was none of his affair. Dinner was announced, he offered her his arm and the meal passed with affectionate informality. Mary, at Luke’s insistence, now occupied the chair at the foot of the table—the one that had always been taken by his grandmother when she dined downstairs. Flora’s place at her side was tonight filled by Luke’s brother Charlie.
Luke took a sip of his wine and wondered what Flora was doing at that moment.
‘Tell me about this autumn fair my godmother talks constantly about.’
Miss Baxter’s request recalled Luke’s wandering attention. ‘It has become quite the tradition over the years. A tradition my grandfather started and which subsequent generations have continued to observe. We celebrate the gathering in of the harvest, if it ever gets gathered this year in this wretched weather,’ he added, casting an accusatory glance at the window as the rain pelted once more against the glass. ‘Anyway, I dare say we will find something to celebrate even if the harvest is not complete. The village throws a party and we take a leading role.’
‘Oh, I assumed you would open up the grounds here.’
‘My grandfather attempted it, but one or two people exploited the situation. Valuables disappeared from the house and the culprits were never apprehended. So now, instead the village street is converted into a fairground for three continuous days and we, that is to say I, foot the bill.’
‘Very generous,’ she said, tasting her soup.
‘There is no class distinction during that week and we rub shoulders with all and sundry. We do have a party here too, but in view of past indiscretions, we are more selective about the guest list.’
She sent him a mischievous smile that caused her eyes to sparkle and her cheeks to dimple. ‘Then let me hasten to assure you that I have no criminal tendencies.’
Luke laughed. ‘When is Mr Walker expected?’
‘His return from Switzerland is imminent. I came on ahead of him. He will be told where I am and I dare say he will come in search of me.’
‘He would be very foolish if he did not.’
She acknowledged the compliment with the inclination of her head, but her expression closed down and Luke became increasingly convinced that she didn’t want to marry the man. She certainly had no desire to talk about him, causing Luke to wonder why she had entered into the engagement. But it was none of his business, so he changed the subject.
Chapter Five
Archie’s carriage drew to a halt outside Fox Hollow to collect Flora at the agreed time. Climbing in and out of carriages was problematic for Archie, so he remained where he was while Pawson jumped down from the box seat to do the honours. Flora, dressed in the same travelling attire she had worn when she left Beranger Court but with a wide-brimmed hat he hadn’t seen her wear before to keep her wayward curls more or less contained, stepped from the cottage before Pawson could wield the knocker. She wished him a cheerful good morning and looked very happy to be returning to Beranger Court. Archie wondered if it was the prospect of seeing Luke again that had brought an anticipatory smile to her face.
Beatrice stood in the doorway, holding Polly’s daughter in her arms, lifting her small hand and encouraging her to wave goodbye to her mama. Polly looked momentarily concerned and turned back to smother the child’s face with kisses. Beatrice said something to reassure, and Polly then followed Flora to the carriage steps.
Will emerged with Flora’s luggage, which he stored in the carriage’s trunk. Pawson helped Flora into the conveyance, and then Polly. He smiled at the pretty girl and, Archie noticed, took his time releasing her hand again. Was that the way the wind blew, Archie wondered? Pawson was only a few years older than Archie and a confirmed bachelor. Archie had seen more than a few hopeful young women vie for his attention over the years, always unsuccessfully. Perhaps Polly, with her exquisite features and trim figure, would be the one to turn his man’s thoughts in a hitherto undesirable direction.
‘Good morning, Archie,’ Flora said with a capricious smile. ‘I hope you are well rested and ready to face the rigours of a village at play.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of missing it.’
Archie was seated facing forward. He belatedly realised that he ought to have taken the seat with his back to the horses. Only a gentleman related to his lady travelling companion should sit beside her, but Archie was damned if he’d put himself through the discomfort that even a simple change of seat would cause him.
‘Sit beside me, Flora.’ He gave the velvet squabs an encouraging pat. ‘I promise not to bite.’
‘Oh behave yourself, Archie,’ she said, taking the seat he suggested without a fuss. Either she was not acquainted with the rules of conduct or, more likely, didn’t care about them. ‘You will embarrass Polly, who does not realise you are jesting.’
Archie flexed a brow mischievously. ‘I am?’
Polly, her eyes agog, sat across from them, Pawson resumed his place on the box seat beside Archie’s coachman and the conveyance, drawn by four matching bays, moved off. Polly waved to Beatrice, as did Flora, until they were lost from view.
‘How have you been?’ Archie asked as the carriage drew the attention of the villagers as it bowled through Lyneham.
‘That was Yardley, standing there watching us,’ she replied, scowling.
‘Has he been bothering you?’
Flora shook her head. ‘He paid me another visit a few days ago.’
Archie’s spine stiffened, sending a pain shooting through his injured left side. He winced, waiting for it to pass. ‘You should have told me. I will prevent him from troubling you again.’
‘And what impression would that create?’ she asked impatiently.
Archie grunted, aware that she was right.
‘I sent him packing, with Will’s help.’ She fixed him with a wide, satisfied smile that momentarily caused Archie to forget his own name. ‘And Beatrice was standing by with her rolling pin, ready to clout him behind his ear if needs be. She would have done it too.’
‘You should have let her.’
‘Either way, Yardley is now well aware that he is not welcome at Fox Hollow.’
‘Even so, it must have been awkward for you. I’m sorry you had to endure his unwanted attentions.’
‘It resulted in a visit from my father,’ Flora said, grimacing, ‘who was intent upon bullying me.’
Archie smiled and briefly squeezed her gloved hand. ‘He really doesn’t know you very well, does he?’
Flora blew air through her lips as she went on to explain why she thought both her father and the bishop were encouraging Yardley to pursue her.
‘I know Yardley depends upon his uncle for his livelihood,’ Archie replied, curbing his anger and speaking in a moderate tone designed to reassure. ‘He is far too lazy to work for a living.’
Archie would speak with the bishop in the near future and actively discourage him from…well, from encouraging his nephew to fix his interest upon Flora. It was the height of bad manners to pursue a lady when she had made it plain that the pursuer’s attentions were not welcome. But Yardley, he suspected, had reasons of his own to oblige the bishop and was too vain and thick skinned to give up on Flora as easily as she assumed he would. Not that he would tell Flora that he intended to intercede on her behalf, since she was stubbornly determined to prove something to herself by fighting her own battles.
Flora, unlike Yardley, didn’t have a vain bone in her body. She had absolutely no idea how attractive she actually was, and was too unworldly to realise that dismissing the attentions of a man who thought so well of himself would only serve to encourage him. She needed an indoor male servant, he decided, trying to think of a subtle way to persuade her of that necessity. She lived well now, better than many of the locals, and the unmarried young men amongst their number would no doubt invent excuses to inflict themselves upon her. Archie scowled at the prospect, determined to protect her from those hoping to improve their own circumstances by preying upon her.
They spoke of inconsequential matters for the rest of the journey; a journey that was far too short to satisfy Archie’s growing attachment to Flora and the excuse it provided him to be alone with her. Alone apart from Polly, whose presence made the arrangement respectable. She sat across from them saying nothing but following their conversation avidly. Carriage journeys ordinarily had a detrimental effect upon Archie’s injured side but today he barely felt the discomfort. Instead of feeling relieved when they arrived, he felt cheated and could have travelled on for another twenty miles, the consequences be damned.
‘Here we are,’ Flora said, as the carriage turned onto Luke’s estate. Polly leaned forward to look out the window, twisting her neck awkwardly in her backward-facing seat, anxious to take in the view. Her mouth fell open as she observed the wide expanse of the park and then caught her first glimpse of the house itself.
