Chapter Six
‘I am so glad you were able to come this evening,’ Luke said to Mrs Stanton as he escorted her to the table and helped her settle into the chair on his right. ‘It has been too long since we have had the pleasure of your family’s society.’
Mrs Stanton, a refined lady whose company Luke enjoyed, smiled at him. ‘With weddings in the air and my girls so excited to be a part of it, I suspect you will soon be sick of the sight of us, my lord.’
‘That I very much doubt.’
Luke could see that in distinguishing Mrs Stanton he had managed to disgruntle Mrs Cooper, a situation that didn’t cause him a moment’s anxiety. One look at the admittedly attractive woman, her younger husband and his hangers-on was sufficient for Luke to know that he never wanted them in his house again. There was something about them that made him uncomfortable, and he was not referring to their relatively mundane origins. He hoped he was not that shallow. Standards had to be maintained, to a degree, but he prided himself upon judging people on their merits rather than accident of birth.
They would have to be invited to the wedding, but apart from that Luke would make his wishes regarding the family clear to Emma and Mary. Miranda was welcome at Beranger Court at any time, but the rest of them wouldn’t set foot on the estate again. The middle brother in particular, Matthew Cooper, made him uneasy. He wore a supercilious air that Luke found objectionable. The others weren’t much better. Christina Cooper clearly relished being invited to Beranger Court but he suspected that the men were there on sufferance, which made him highly suspicious. If they intended to settle in the area, in was in their best interests to court Luke’s good opinion—something that none of them had thus far attempted to do. They must realise that he could easily make them socially acceptable.
Or encourage their ostracization.
Their furtive behaviour caused Luke to give serious consideration to Flora’s suggestion that Cooper had a hand in Defoe’s demise. He glanced at Paul, seated beside his sister Mary. He would have him instigate enquiries regarding the Cooper family’s circumstances. He had asked Philip Cooper a few probing questions before dinner, all of which he skilfully evaded answering. They seemed perfectly content to live at Miranda’s expense. Luke suppressed a smile. He had overheard Grandmamma’s forthright views regarding Matthew Cooper’s culpability in that respect—no one in the room had been able to avoid so doing. Philip’s scowl looked as though it had been carved into his forehead, but he refrained from defending his sibling’s position. His reaction had shown Luke a brief glimpse of the fiery temper he’d been obliged to suppress, deepening his fledgling suspicions that the Cooper family harboured grandiose ambitions.
Miranda’s feelings for her step-mother and the Coopers were less easy for Luke to fathom. If she minded about their living off her inheritance, she was too well mannered to let it show. Mrs Cooper, her step-mother, was her guardian until she reached her majority, so Luke supposed it would have been impossible for her to object to her presence beneath her roof. She had been just fourteen when her father died, and probably took comfort from her step-mother’s presence. How she reacted when that same step-mother remarried just one year later Luke couldn’t begin to fathom. The three Cooper males had moved in upon signature of the marriage lines and had yet to move out again. As far as he was aware, none of them maintained premises of their own.
Miranda had been too young to take exception to the arrangement at the time, Luke imagined. But he suspected that with maturity and the lessening of her grief following the loss of the father to whom she had been devoted, she’d come to realise that her patience was not limitless. He certainly hoped so. He couldn’t abide the thought of her good nature being exploited by those who were perfectly capable of working for a living but chose not to.
Luke wanted to help Miranda to get to the truth, always assuming she had an interest in pursuing it. He glanced at her, laughing at something Charlie had just said, and suspected that Charlie’s views on the matter coincided with his own. Then he looked down the table just as Flora happened to lift her head and glance directly at him, her lips parted, her expression mildly challenging. She always seemed to know when he was tempted to look at her, which prevented him from indulging in that habit as often as he would like. She would insist that she was guided by a sixth sense, but Luke wasn’t convinced. Something more fundamental kept them attuned to one another’s moods, but of course he couldn’t possibly tell her that, nor could he allow himself to explore the reasons for it, even in his most private moments.
If, for the sake of argument, he decided to humour her and pretend she possessed the powers to which she laid claim, then presumably their minds were similarly occupied at that moment, dwelling upon the questionable motives of the Coopers. In which case, she wouldn’t be able to help herself from interfering. Their gazes clashed for a second time and an unspoken message passed between them. Her eyes widened, she nodded and was the first to look away.
Luke’s thoughts were occupied with recollections of their delightful interlude at the reservoir the previous day. The way she had seemed so carefree as she dangled her bare feet in the water, her hair tumbling down her back as she enjoyed the feel of sunshine on her upturned face. Simple pleasures that would have been denied to her during her childhood. This evening she was unrecognisable from that wild, indulgent creature. Garbed in a lovely gown his grandmother had commissioned for her that displayed her enticing curves a little too graphically for Luke’s comfort, she was every inch the respectable companion—but for that defiant light in her glowing violet eyes.
He had seen Matthew Cooper watching her like a hawk and scowled, imagining all too well what he had in mind for her. He was fairly certain that Flora would reject his advances, but vowed to put her on her guard anyway. Not that Matthew would get anywhere near her after tonight, but still…
Flora, he decided, could help in another way. If anyone could talk to Miranda and discover in a roundabout fashion if she had concerns about her father’s death, or if she felt obligated against her better nature to support the Cooper clan, then it was she. He smiled behind the rim of his wine glass, glad to have hit upon a legitimate reason to speak with Flora alone.
When the ladies withdrew and the gentlemen gathered around Luke’s position as the port circulated, Luke decided it was time to put the Coopers on the spot.
‘Do tell us more about your business, Cooper,’ he said, passing the decanter to Stanton and leaning back in his chair. ‘I heard it said that you inherited an export business from your father.’
‘That was partly our reason for travelling these past two years,’ Philip Cooper replied with obvious reluctance when everyone in the room turned inquisitive eyes upon him. ‘Our grandfather got caught up in the South Sea scandal and we were attempting to re-forge trading links.’ Several heads nodded sympathetically. Luke knew that it was still a sore subject that had seen more than one family reduced to poverty, thanks to greed and deliberate deception. ‘We had made a good living through our trading links with India up until that point.’
‘The South Sea Company focused on South America, renegotiating previous high-interest government loans,’ Stanton reminded them all. ‘Their stock prices kept soaring every day, with insiders making huge paper profits, but it collapsed overnight, ruining many speculators. In hindsight, it was the inevitable conclusion, but I’m sorry it affected you.’
Cooper inclined his head. ‘We are recovering our position slowly.’
Luke noticed the relieved expression on Philip Cooper’s face when the conversation became more general. Luke took scant interest in it, instead dwelling upon what little Cooper had revealed. Being involved in exports was a blanket term, covering anything from wool to timber and steel. No matter, Paul would ferret out the truth.
Now it was up to Flora. If she really did have a sixth sense, she would find a way for a few quiet words with Miranda while the ladies were in the drawing room.
*
&n
bsp; ‘Here we are, ma’am.’
Flora settled the dowager countess into her favourite chair and ensured that she received the first cup of coffee that Emma poured. The old lady pouted when Flora declined to add a generous splash of brandy. She had already had more than enough wine and although she would never admit it, Flora could see that she was starting to tire. Her head had fallen forward several times during the course of dinner, and only swift action on Flora’s part had prevented her ostrich feather from dipping into her plate and spraying those on either side of her with plum sauce when she lifted her head again.
‘Stop fussing, child. I can manage.’
‘Be civil,’ Flora chided, biting back a smile when she observed the dowager’s gaze land upon Mrs Cooper and mischief sparkle in her otherwise faded eyes. That lady had behaved with refinement but clearly hadn’t impress the countess. ‘For Emma’s sake.’
‘Pah!’
‘Take a moment, if you like,’ Mary said to Flora in an undertone, watching her grandmother fighting to keep her eyes open. ‘I will sit with Grandmamma and do my best to ensure that she behaves herself.’
Flora cast a wary glance towards Mrs Cooper, who appeared to be contemplating approaching the old lady. Anxious to maintain this hard-won and unexpected foothold in Wiltshire society, she’d be aware that it was vital to gain the dowager’s support. Flora was almost tempted to let her try it, but knew she would never succeed since the countess had taken her in dislike. Mrs Cooper had done nothing to offend Flora. She didn’t care for blood sports and didn’t have it in her to be deliberately cruel. Emma saved the day by including Mrs Cooper in her conversation with Mrs Stanton about the wedding.
‘Thank you.’ Flora smiled her gratitude at Mary, then glanced at Miranda Defoe, who had taken up a seat a little away from everyone else. Emma would presumably join her once she had discharged her duties at the tea trolley and satisfied the older ladies’ curiosity about her wedding plans. Flora’s window of opportunity would be fleeting. ‘Your grandmamma won’t be taken in by Mrs Cooper,’ Flora whispered, ‘but even so, it would be better not to risk it. Keep them apart if you possibly can.’
‘Quite.’ Mary grinned as she shooed Flora away. ‘Go!’
Flora took up her own tea, as well as a cup for Miranda, and delivered it to her.
‘May I?’ she asked, indicating the chair beside Miranda.
‘Oh, Miss Latimer, please do. I am being terribly rude, I suppose, deliberately setting myself apart but in truth I needed a moment to reflect.’
‘And I am disturbing you.’
‘Not in the least. Please join me. I can see that you have a very comfortable situation here and Emma tells me just how invaluable they all find you. They treat you quite as though you were a member of the family.’
‘They have certainly made me very welcome.’ Flora paused to sip at her tea, choosing her next words with care. ‘You are fortunate to have a family of your own looking out for your interests, Miss Defoe.’
‘Oh please, call me Miranda.’ A shadow passed through her eyes at the mention of her family, further arousing Flora’s curiosity.
‘Thank you, and I am Flora.’ She glanced at Mrs Cooper who kept sending glances Miranda’s way. Engaged in conversation with Emma and Mrs Stanton still, she was prevented from joining them. ‘Although I get the impression that your step-mama doesn’t approve of your intimacy with a paid companion.’
Miranda smiled. ‘She may think whatever she wishes. I shall be guided by my own instincts.’
‘And since you are a bosom friend of Emma’s, I cannot fault those instincts.’
Flora recalled the chill that had swept through her when she’d been subjected to Matthew Cooper’s attentions. She had felt the increasingly familiar coolness sweep past her ear—Remus making his presence felt, warning her to be on her guard. His warnings had become reassuring rather than concerning, now that she understood them for what they were. Philip Cooper’s aura felt slightly less threatening, but she heartily distrusted all three of them and feared for Miranda’s wellbeing. She wondered who would inherit Miranda’s wealth if she suffered a fatal accident.
‘Your step-mother is very beautiful.’
‘She is that. Papa adored her. She made him very happy for the short duration of their marriage.’
‘You and she are close? Forgive me,’ Flora added with a placating wave, ‘it is none of my business. The dowager countess will tell you that curiosity is one of my many faults.’
‘Not at all. Actually it’s a relief to talk of these things to someone who does not have a vested interest.’ Miranda stirred her tea and paused to gather her thoughts. Flora allowed her all the time she needed and didn’t attempt to chivvy her along. ‘I was only six when Mama passed. Papa was totally bereft, but I was too young to understand the full impact of the tragedy. He told me that Mama had gone to heaven and that it would be just the two of us from that point forward. And for four years he was as good as his word.’ She sighed. ‘Then Christina came into his life and everything changed.’
‘It would be unrealistic, I suppose, to imagine a relatively young and successful gentleman remaining single for the rest of his life. I expect he was lonely. Besides, I dare say he wanted a son to inherit.’
Miranda lifted a shoulder. ‘I don’t know what he thought, but things were never the same after that. I tried to be grateful that the despondency had left Papa’s eyes and that he was happy again.’ She smiled. ‘I shouldn’t be so undiplomatic. I am barely acquainted with you, but you are so very easy to talk to.’
‘And you can depend upon my discretion.’ Flora was frantic to learn more but deliberately kept her voice casual. She recalled Remus’s advice. If she wanted to know something, she should concentrate upon the subject matter. Which was all well and good, but would that concentration communicate itself to Miranda? She closed her eyes briefly, thinking it time to test Remus’s assertion. ‘You and Mrs Cooper seem to be on friendly terms,’ she said. ‘I am glad about that. Families that are related by blood very often do not get along, take it from one who knows. Having to live beneath the same roof with someone who is not a direct relative must be even more fraught.’
‘She was good for Papa in so many ways, and was devastated by his passing. She showed no resentment when she found that he hadn’t left her that well provided for and so I feel…well—’
‘Responsible for her welfare, which is why you are so generously inclined towards her new husband and his brothers. After all, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to conclude that she is now his responsibility, not yours.’
Another shrug. ‘I almost lost my mind when Papa died so unexpectedly, being only fourteen at the time. Christina and I comforted one another.’
‘And then she married again with, excuse me, almost indecent haste.’
‘It did raise eyebrows, but I was too young to hear most of the gossip, or understand why we were more or less ostracised. Anyway, things are different now that I am older. My generosity is not limitless, as they will discover now that I am back on home soil.’ She paused. ‘They didn’t want to come back. They put up all sorts of objections, but I stood firm.’
‘Did they say why?’
‘Philip made noises about forging contacts for his business interests. I told them in that case I would return alone. They wouldn’t permit it, of course.’
‘Or couldn’t afford to linger unless you footed the bill,’ Flora suggested with a wry smile.
Miranda conceded the point with a nod. ‘Very likely not. No one can accuse Christina’s family of not enjoying their comforts.’
‘Comforts that they look upon as a right.’
‘Yes, I suppose they do.’
Flora wanted to ask more. To probe into the circumstances surrounding her father’s death. She sensed that Luke shared her concerns and that was what he had tried to communicate when he held her gaze down the length of the table. Annoyingly, having just got Miranda to open up, she could hear the gentlemen approac
hing and the opportunity would be lost to her.
‘Well,’ she said, smiling at Miranda. ‘Something tells me that if you require a knight in shining armour, Charlie will be happy to adopt that mantle.’
Miranda’s eyes widened and a little gasp escaped her lips. ‘He has said something to you?’
‘He didn’t need to. I have eyes in my head, and I see the way he looks at you.’ She squeezed Miranda’s hand. ‘My advice, for what it’s worth, is to enjoy his smiles and then decide if you want matters to progress from there. You will know in your heart if you do. But now, if you will excuse me, I have neglected the countess for too long.’
The gentlemen walked in just as Flora stood. She looked up and her gaze clashed with Luke’s once again, as it so often seemed to. He noticed with whom she had been conversing and sent her an approving smile.
Flora spent the rest of the evening at the dowager’s side, refusing to be parted from her, even when Matthew Cooper renewed his charm campaign. The cool breeze peppering her ear would have prevented her from responding to it, even if her own instincts had not. She had only been resident in this house for a month but Matthew would be the second guest in it who assumed that her situation as a paid companion gave him carte blanche to play fast and loose with her affections. Let him try it, she thought belligerently, and he would soon discover his mistake.
When the countess saw that all the members of the Cooper clan had the good sense to steer clear of her, she realised there would be no more fun to be had and agreed to retire. Flora wished the entire company good night and escorted her charge slowly from the room.
‘Well, miss,’ the dowager said as Flora helped her up the stairs. ‘That Matthew Cooper has an eye for you. You’d best be on your guard.’
A Sense of Purpose Page 8
