A Sense of Purpose

by Soliman, Wendy

  ‘Well then, you have identified the difference between us. I find it helps to make sense of situations if one argues both sides to oneself aloud.’

  ‘You have a lot of problems, it’s undeniable, and I do hope they can be easily resolved.’

  She stared off into the distance. ‘Perhaps.’

  His invitation to confide in him had not been taken up, so he decided to be more direct. ‘I am sorry if your father’s visit overset you.’

  She shook her head. ‘Everything my father does has a tendency to overset me. I am accustomed to his bombast. We mix about as well as honey and vinegar.’

  She smiled, a gesture that transformed her face from ordinary to…well, remarkable. Not that he’d thought of her as being ordinary since he’d come to understand her character better. She was not classically beautiful. But Luke knew a score of pretty women, none of whom had much else to offer. The same accusation could not be levelled against Flora Latimer. Perhaps that was why he enjoyed her company so much and why she had proven to be a match for his contrary grandmother.

  She didn’t try to make any sort of impression upon him, and didn’t seem to worry about what people thought of her. A refreshing combination of intelligence, lively wit, irreverence and a hint of vulnerability that she would despise knowing she sometimes exhibited. He saw brief glimpses of it when she confronted her father and was glad he had been there to prevent the man from lambasting her, which he would almost certainly have done if he had not been restrained by Luke’s presence.

  ‘My father dislikes failure, and I am the only one of his five daughters whose mind he has failed to shape, or whose future he cannot map out in an effort to enhance his own prospects. I am far too much like my paternal grandmother for his comfort. She shared similar views regarding accepted religion to those frequently expressed by the dowager countess, which given Papa’s calling was a little unfortunate, to say the least.’ A ghost of a smile touched her lips. ‘She wasn’t allowed out in public very often for fear that she would say or do something to embarrass Papa and hamper his ambitions.’

  ‘And now he feels threatened by you in a similar way.’

  ‘Papa hates surprises. Everyone must conduct themselves according to his dictate, which rather makes you wonder why he doesn’t simply wash his hands of me and pretend that I don’t exist. He could tell people that I have taken a position as a lady’s companion, which is true. If the countess’s reputation embarrasses him, he need not give her name, and I will soon be forgotten about in ecclesiastical circles.’

  ‘I very much doubt whether anyone could forget you quite that easily.’

  She sent him a curious look through eyes illuminated with surprise. ‘Why thank you, my lord,’ she said formally. ‘I realise that you feel beholden to me after that business with Miss Carlton, but I have told you repeatedly that there is no need. It was entirely my pleasure. I cannot abide conniving women and you did not deserve to be trapped into wedlock with that particular one. That being the case, I would prefer it if you did not pay me false compliments. I thought we understood one another better that that.’

  ‘And I thought you had agreed to call me Luke.’ He chuckled. ‘You overcame your fear of spiders and fought your way through tunnels that hadn’t been used for years, ending up in my bedchamber in order to foil Miss Carlton’s plans.’ He smiled at her. ‘That is why the need for formality has been overcome.’

  ‘Yet I still enjoy reminding you that we are far from equal.’

  ‘Have it your way.’ He allowed a short pause. ‘We were talking of your inability to be forgettable. Your father’s curate certainly seems to think so, and still wants to marry you.’ Luke chuckled. ‘Heaven help him! I almost feel sorry for the impudent cur. He cannot possibly understand what he would be taking on.’

  ‘There’s no need to be so offensive,’ she scolded in a mild tone.

  ‘It was intended as a compliment—although I’ll grant that it lacked elegance.’

  ‘Mr Bolton’s persistence does surprise me,’ she conceded. ‘Perhaps Papa agreed to the match without first consulting me and doesn’t like to go back on his word. That might account for it. There again, perhaps he worries that my sisters will follow my example and rebel against the choices he makes for them, which he would find intolerable. Breeding one independently-minded daughter can be passed off as unfortunate, but two or more…well, everyone would then consider Papa to blame.’

  ‘Quite right too. Having met the man, I cannot begin to imagine how wretched your childhood must have been.’ Luke threw back his head. ‘For the life of me, I cannot understand why religion and personal pleasure must be mutually exclusive.’

  ‘I hope you don’t expect me to give you an answer,’ she replied, amusement underlying her words. ‘Anyway, Papa need have no fear regarding my sisters. They none of them have sufficient backbone to question the parental decree, but still…’

  ‘You are perfectly secure here, Flora.’ He resisted a compelling urge to take her hand in his and offer her a more personal form of reassurance. Instead, he fleetingly touched the side of her face, feeling the warmth of her skin searing into his palm. She briefly—far too briefly—leaned her cheek into his hand, but as quickly moved it away so that he was no longer touching her. ‘Unless Grandmamma tries your patience.’

  ‘Thank you, but she will not. I am inordinately fond of her and flatter myself that she returns my regard in some small measure. Her impressive performance certainly saved the day earlier.’

  Luke laughed. ‘That it did. She never fails to surprise me.’

  ‘I keep telling you, she is perfectly sane, just a little…well, eccentric. Anyway, I shall turn one-and-twenty later this year, and then Papa will lose his right to dictate my movements.’

  ‘In the meantime, your time will be taken up as much with Emma’s wedding plans as with Grandmamma. I know my sisters have grown to rely upon you for help and advice. I hope they don’t ask too much of you. They are not your responsibility, but mine.’

  ‘I enjoy their company and am glad to make myself useful.’ Flora paused. ‘Talking of Emma, I met Miss Defoe today. Are you aware that Emma has invited her entire family to dine at Beranger Court tomorrow evening?’

  ‘No, I was not aware.’ He frowned. ‘That could be awkward.’

  ‘The countess told me that Miss Defoe’s step-mother was not received locally after she hastily married the man who was supposedly her lover, setting tongues wagging throughout the county.’ She turned worried eyes upon Luke. ‘Did Emma do the wrong thing?’

  ‘She probably wasn’t aware of the scandal that Mrs Defoe’s remarriage caused at the time. Emma wasn’t out and we tried to keep it from her. She retained her friendship with Miranda, of course. I encouraged that. I felt sorry for the girl and I knew how close she and Emma were.’

  ‘So they were in and out of one another’s homes, but the step-mother became persona non grata?’

  ‘That’s about the size of it. However, time passes and memories fade. I think it’s as well they will all come. I’d like to take stock of them and decide for myself if they are worth knowing.’

  Flora fixed him with a wide-eyed stare. ‘Do you share the countess’s view that Mr Defoe’s death was suspicious?’

  It was Luke’s turn to show surprise. ‘I was not aware that she thought along those lines. But yes, it did seem rather too convenient, assuming the gossips got it right and that Cooper was always the woman’s intended spouse. Defoe was in the rudest of health. I know influenza can kill, but it did surprise me that such a strong man succumbed. But it happened at a time when I had more than enough problems of my own to wrestle with. I wasn’t about to involve myself in my neighbour’s affairs.’

  ‘I imagine Mr Cooper had no money of his own, so Mrs Defoe was obliged to snare a rich husband and then manage his timely demise.’

  Luke laughed. ‘It does sound rather far-fetched when you put it that way.’

  ‘I am not speaking from experience, yo
u understand,’ Flora said after a short pause, ‘but I have heard it said that it would be unwise to underestimate the lengths a person is willing to go to for the sake of love. I understand Mr Cooper is a good ten years younger than his wife, and very handsome. Much in demand as a charming and useful addition to any social gathering, according to your grandmother, and a bit of a scoundrel, too!’

  Luke laughed. ‘I would never disagree with Grandmamma’s astute assessments.’

  ‘How every wise of you.’

  ‘I myself have never laid eyes on him.’ He smiled at Flora. ‘We shall both discover the truth, I dare say, tomorrow evening.’

  ‘Mr Cooper’s two younger brothers have travelled with the party these past two years. They are invited, too.’

  Luke scowled. ‘That will give Charlie some competition.’

  ‘Ah, so you have noticed the burgeoning attachment, too. Is he serious about Miss Defoe? Is she even aware of his interest? Not that it’s any business of mine, but—’

  ‘But you cannot help involving yourself, and giving Miranda a little push in that direction, if you think she returns his feelings?’

  ‘Well…’

  Flora grinned and nibbled mischievously on the end of her index finger, making it necessary for Luke to glance away from her until he had his emotions under proper control. He found that gesture very disturbing. It was one thing letting his defences down and speaking with his grandmother’s companion as a lively and interesting equal. Quite another to harbour inconvenient feelings for the chit that would complicate their growing friendship and likely frighten her away because…well, because he wasn’t in a position to act upon his feelings even if he thought she would be amenable to them.

  ‘Anyway,’ she added, recalling his wandering attention and effectively quelling his inappropriate thoughts, ‘Emma has also decided to invite the Stantons, so that all of her four bridesmaids will be present and can spend the entire evening discussing their plans.’

  Luke rolled his eyes. ‘I can hardly contain myself.’

  ‘Well try harder,’ she said playfully. ‘Your sister will only marry once. She set her heart upon Mr Watson years ago, you know.’

  ‘I did hear something said, but had absolutely no idea how serious it was until you just confirmed it for me.’

  ‘Of course you did not. Men never see what is beneath their noses.’

  ‘I sit duly chastised,’ he said with an unrepentant grin.

  ‘That I very much doubt,’ she replied, failing to quell a responding smile of her own.

  ‘I am glad there will be others in attendance besides Miranda’s relations. It will ease the strain.’ The sun had started to lower and he noticed Flora shiver. ‘We ought to get back.’ He stood and turned his back. ‘I will give you a moment and then help you with the gig.’

  ‘Thank you, but I can manage.’

  ‘I am perfectly sure that you can. Even so, I insist.’

  ‘Very well. Thank you.’

  He heard a rustle of skirts and suspected that she had dried her feet on her petticoats. A short time later she stood beside him, appropriately shod. She seemed to have forgotten that her hair was falling loose. She looked so gloriously tousled that Luke didn’t have the heart to point out the fact. He liked seeing her shining hair tumbling down to her backside and wondered how it would look fanning out beneath her head against a freshly pressed pure white bedsheet…No! He adjured himself to behave, quelling the desire to pick up a thick strand and run it repeatedly through his fingers.

  ‘Better?’ she asked with a defiant little smile.

  ‘Not nearly,’ he replied softly, ‘but we shall have to make do.’

  ‘I am sorry if my appearance fails to impress,’ she said huffily, misinterpreting his meaning, ‘but one cannot aspire to be what one is not.’ They walked together towards the gig. ‘I am not to blame for your happening upon me. You would have done better to pretend not to have seen me and ridden straight past. I would not have been offended.’

  ‘Are you deliberately trying to pick a fight with me, Miss Latimer?’

  She threw up her hands in mock horror. ‘As if I would dare, my lord.’

  Luke chuckled. ‘I think there is little that you would not dare to do. Your father’s cause is quite hopeless, and he’s a fool not to realise it. You have the devil deeply embedded in you and nothing he says or does can alter that fact. He would be better advised to disown you.’

  ‘I wish he would. We would both be much happier if we agreed to differ and went our separate ways. And yet, as you say, he seems determined to foist Bolton upon me and I have absolutely no idea why.’

  ‘Oh, I think I have,’ Luke said in a speculative manner, watching her profile as an array of conflicting emotions lit up her features. Ye gods, but he liked her! He vowed to take himself off to Swindon at the earliest opportunity and avail himself of his mistress’s services. If her skilled ministrations didn’t bring him to his senses then he was at a loss to know what would. ‘Here we are.’

  He caught the cob and untied the reins. He helped Flora onto the box seat, where she took a moment to set her hat on her head and pull gloves onto hands that were no longer completely clean. She thanked him and took the reins from him.

  ‘You had best ride back ahead of me,’ she said. ‘This dear creature only has one pace, which is best described at stately. He doesn’t like to hurry and I would prefer not to put him to the trouble. Besides, it wouldn’t seem right if we arrived back at the same time.’ She glanced down at her creased gown and gave another of her mischievous smiles. ‘Especially not with me looking like a fishwife.’ She took the reins from his hands. ‘Thank you, Luke. I have enjoyed your company.’ She allowed a short pause. ‘I think,’ she added speculatively.

  ‘Very well.’

  Luke gave the cob’s rump a hefty slap. It turned its head to give him an incurious look and then moved forward at the lumbering pace Flora had predicted. He watched her until she was out of sight, then mounted Onyx and returned to the estate by a different, faster route.

  *

  Flora had been discomposed by Luke’s arrival, and a little irritated by the intrusion. She had been in urgent need of solitude in which to mull over her extraordinary encounter with Remus, but her annoyance with her handsome employer’s presence did not endure. She had not had many occasions to speak with him alone since his lucky escape from Miss Carlton’s ambitious clutches. She had supposed it would always be that way. There was absolutely no reason why it should not be. She was, as she frequently reminded herself, in his employ.

  Nothing more than that.

  She dined at his table every night, keeping a watchful eye upon his grandmother’s behaviour and ensuring that she had everything she required. But the rest of the family were always there, too. Sometimes Luke was not. She had heard whispers that he kept a mistress in Swindon and tried not to disapprove. She might be a rebel at heart but the tenets of her Christian upbringing clearly couldn’t be shaken off that easily.

  Why had Luke chosen to intrude upon Flora’s reverie? She hadn’t seen him approaching so he could easily have avoided her. She was a servant in his household, and she should not be displaying her ankles in a public place. Nor should she speak to him so irreverently. Both misdemeanours ought to be enough to see her dismissed. Few people outside his immediate family possessed the courage to speak their minds in his presence, or the ability to make him laugh at himself. Presumably he found such traits refreshing.

  She blushed when she remembered the way that his gaze had kept returning to her exposed ankles, clearly visible even though she tried to keep them beneath the water and pretend that its coolness had not caused her to lose all feeling in her feet. She had enjoyed Luke’s irreverent look of approval when she didn’t apologise or demand privacy. Flora laughed to herself as the cob ambled at a plodding pace back towards Beranger Court. She had not previously been aware that ankles—and there was nothing special about hers—could be the subject of so much
fascination.

  Her feelings for Luke Beranger were a hopeless contradiction. She liked and admired him very much, but would one day have to endure the torture of wishing him joy when he married a lady from a similar background to his own. His expression had closed down when they spoke of Mrs Defoe’s remarriage to a man outside their social circle. God forbid that he had sensed her growing dependency upon him and had tried to gently remind her of her place. Her cheeks coloured at the humiliating prospect. She recalled the manner in which he had touched her cheek so softly, his fingers lingering and making her senses reel, until she found the strength to pull away. The man was a paradox, one minute holding back, the next admiring her ankles and touching her face. It was most disobliging of him to play games without first acquainting her with their rules.

  Flora decided in future to ensure that the appropriate boundaries were somehow maintained. She would hold her tongue and keep her opinions to herself. That way there could be no misunderstandings. It was all very well for him. He was a natural flirt, and probably couldn’t help himself, but she didn’t have the first idea how to interact playfully with the opposite sex.

  ‘I should not even be thinking about him,’ she said aloud.

  Her father’s visit should be uppermost in her mind. She had a disquieting feeling that she probably hadn’t seen the last of him, but was still no closer to deciding why. Remus would tell her to trust her instincts, and those instincts were yelling at her to be on her guard. Which was all well and good, but she didn’t have the first idea what she was supposed to be guarding herself against. Unless Papa sent people into the estate to snatch her away, there was nothing he could do to force her to leave, especially since she could depend upon Luke to support her cause for independence.

  Putting concerns about her father to the back of her mind, she replayed her astonishing conversation with Remus through her head. Part convinced it was a product of her imagination, her sixth sense insisted otherwise. Christianity believed in an afterlife; existence on another plane—heaven or hell. Many insisted that such planes could overlap. Spiritualism, séances and the like were very popular. More and more minds were opening to the possibility of reincarnation and an afterlife beyond our understanding. Papa became enraged when reports from beyond the grave appeared in the newspapers and were taken seriously. Flora did not share that view, and now here was Remus, insisting that he was her spirit guide, sent to help her channel her gift for the greater good.