Archie had been looking forward to her visit for days like a gauche youth entering into his first romantic entanglement. He almost laughed out loud at the thought of being out of his depth in any woman’s company, but facts had to be faced. Flora possessed the ability to surprise and unsettle him. He never quite knew what she would say or do next, and he rather enjoyed being caught unawares by her spontaneous behaviour, pithy retorts and the manner in which she didn’t hesitate to take him to task if she decided he had acted out of turn.
Few others would dare.
Archie found the challenge exhilarating. When Flora was at her most provocative, he even managed to forget about his incapacity for an hour or two and absolutely no one else had ever achieved that particular feat. Not even Eloise, the pretty French nurse who had catered for more than just Archie’s medical needs, and whose attentions, inventiveness and athleticism had helped preserve his sanity during his recuperation. He had wondered at one point whether he’d actually been in love with the chit. She had certainly dropped heavy enough hints about the prospect of matrimony, but something held Archie back and he had left her behind when he returned to England, handsomely recompensed for her services.
He knew now that what he had felt for Eloise had not been love, and understood why he had decided against legalising their relationship. Everything in his life up to now had been a rehearsal, a means of marking time until he met Flora. Now all he had to do was exercise a little more patience, wait until the time was right and try to persuade her that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with an incomplete man.
‘Do you think she will keep the engagement?’ Archie asked with feigned casualness. ‘The roads could be tricky.’
Pawson shrugged. ‘Can’t see why she wouldn’t. She hasn’t let the weather stop her from galivanting all over the village, helping her old ladies. Besides, for reasons that escape me, she appears to enjoy your company.’
Archie grunted, accustomed to Pawson’s irreverence. ‘Keep her safe, and if you think the conditions are too treacherous on the way to fetch her, then tell her not to come. We can do this another day.’
‘I have a feeling she’ll do whatever she wants, no matter what I recommend.’
Archie rolled his eyes. ‘I have a feeling you’re right.’
‘Just think about what I told you about Conrad while I’m gone. That should keep your mind occupied.’
It should, Archie knew, watching his conveyance leaving tracks in the slush as it made its way down the long driveway, but his concentration was shot and he failed to make any sense of what he now knew. Loneliness was a foreign concept to Archie—or it had been before he’d made Flora’s acquaintance. All those years of recovery in France had taught him the value of his own company. Eloise couldn’t be with him all the time, nor did he want her to be, so he had found ways to occupy the long and painful hours, distracting his thoughts from past indiscretions that couldn’t be changed and for which he’d paid a heavy price. Sometimes simply being grateful to be alive, glad to have survived a crushing fall that somehow hadn’t kill him, wasn’t enough.
Now he was home and had assumed his father’s title. No one questioned his rise from the dead or his right to become a marquess, someone who was looked up to and respected. The myriad duties attaching to his status and the management of the estate was more than enough to keep his mind busy and gave him a purpose. Yet his life felt empty.
Incomplete.
An opinionated siren with flashing violet eyes and a propensity for plain speaking would make his existence whole again, even if his body would always be broken. He had known it almost since first making Flora’s acquaintance, but he also knew better than to rush her. She had a point to prove—to herself and the world in general. He would not clip her wings and try to turn her into somebody she was not. It would be the surest way to frighten her off. Her father had attempted it, unaware of the treasure that lay in the midst of his family.
Archie would not make the same mistake, and was content after a fashion to bide his time—just as long as no other man sniffed around her petticoats whose attentions she welcomed. If that situation arose then all bets were off. Flora was his. She just didn’t know it yet.
He sat behind his desk since it offered him a clear view of the front drive and tried to concentrate upon his correspondence. How long would it take before his conveyance returned? The distance wasn’t far. Even in these conditions, an hour should be sufficient.
He felt concerned when it returned in less time than that, worried that his visitor would not be inside it. He stood, adjusted his lapels and then grabbed the stick he so despised and walked out onto the top step, conscious of the cold wind biting into his face, adjuring himself to remain calm. Only after Pawson had jumped down from the box-seat, opened the carriage door, let the steps down and handed a familiar lady out did he relax. Of course she had come! It would take more than a little inclement weather to deter Miss Flora Latimer.
The sight of her in a fetching violet ensemble topped by a thick fur-trimmed tippet took his breath away. Her sense of style captivated him almost as much her spirited determination to forge her own path.
Archie raised a hand, unsurprised when Flora’s maid followed her from the carriage. Pawson, he noticed, held the girl’s hand to help her down and was slow to let it go again.
‘Archie, don’t come to us,’ Flora called out, returning his wave. ‘It’s freezing and you will slip.’
‘I will not slip,’ he replied, aware that he very well might and remaining where he was.
‘I am glad you came,’ he said, taking her arm the moment she joined him at the top of the steps, somehow resisting the urge to kiss her witless. ‘And looking so vibrant and full of life.’
‘Is vibrancy a good thing? It sounds as though being vibrant ought to be fun, in which case I don’t suppose Papa would agree with you. No good can come of pleasure, in case you were not aware.’
‘Thank you for putting me straight on that point,’ he replied, deadpan.
‘You are entirely welcome. Anyway, of course we came.’ She slipped her hand into the crook of the arm that wasn’t holding the stick. ‘I brought Polly along for the sake of respectability. Well actually,’ she added, lowering her voice, her expression mischievous, ‘I think it was Pawson’s idea, and he somehow got Polly to communicate it to me through a mildly worded suggestion.’
‘Very likely. Pawson usually gets what he wants, but he makes himself useful to me so I allow him to get away with it. Come inside and get warm.’ He led her into the library, aware that it was a favourite room of hers and one of the few in the vast house that felt lived in rather than neglected.
‘We are to have snow, I am told,’ she said, stripping off her tippet, gloves and hat and warming her hands in front of the fire. He liked that she felt comfortable enough in his company to remove her hat. Most ladies would not forgo their headgear when attending a luncheon. It didn’t surprise him that Flora flouted that particular custom.
‘How have you been?’ he asked, seating himself across from her after she herself had taken a chair.
‘Fully occupied with the school and my old ladies. My time doesn’t seem to be my own, but I am not complaining. I like to help where I can.’
‘You do too much.’
‘On the contrary, I don’t do nearly enough. I am told that I have been accepted by the locals, by the way, which is apparently a very great accolade.’
‘I would have something to say on the matter if you were not.’
Her expression closed down. ‘And you would force the locals to like me, would you?’ she said on a note of censure. ‘You promised not to interfere in my affairs, Archie. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea. Besides, I am perfectly capable of looking out for myself.’
Oh, Flora, you really are not!
‘Duly noted. Anyway, who has told you of your acceptance?’
‘A lady who has become a great favourite of mine.’ He listened as she enthu
sed about her distressed gentlewoman. ‘Mrs Finch knew your mother apparently, and tells me that she was very refined and delicate. “Not too high in the instep” were her exact words.’
‘Which is precisely how I remember her,’ Archie replied, feeling the years falling away as Mama fussed over a seven-year-old Archie, preparing him for his first day away from home at preparatory school. ‘She had time for everyone and knew how to make them feel comfortable.’ He recalled feeling very grown up yet fearful of the unknown. The gentle touch of his mother’s hand had reassured him; her lingering perfume had pervaded his senses. The next time he returned to Felsham Hall it was for her funeral. He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.
‘Mrs Finch remembers your father rather better.’ Archie smiled at her impish expression as she told him of the occurrence at a kissing bow. ‘She said there was no harm in your father, which I privately rather doubt.’ She sent him what was probably supposed to be a disapproving look but spoiled it by giggling. ‘Given that I am aware of the son’s behaviour.’
‘You do me a disservice, Flora.’
‘Do I?’ She blinked at him, still full of mischief. ‘In which case I apologise. Mrs Finch was a pretty woman in her younger days and it seems that your father enjoyed what he saw.’
‘Beauty is supposed to be admired, otherwise what would be the point in it?’
‘Well, of course, you would defend him.’
Archie eased his aching leg out in front of him, wincing as he straitened it as far as it would go.
‘Are you in pain?’ she asked.
‘No more than usual.’
‘I have had some thoughts about that, and I have brought with me an alternative ointment I want you to try.’ She waved aside the protest he hadn’t yet voiced. ‘I know you will say it’s a waste of time, so I have given it to Mr Pawson with instructions as to its use. He is braver than me and won’t allow you to bully him. Let me know if it helps.’
Her matter-of-fact approach to a subject that few dared to voice in front of him eased his tension. ‘Thank you,’ he said softly.
‘You are entirely welcome.’
Draper entered the room, served them with coffee and quietly withdrew.
‘What else have you been getting up to?’ Archie asked as the door closed behind his butler.
‘Violet came to see me, as a matter of fact. She has asked me to be her chief bridesmaid,’ she said with a sunny smile.
‘Luke mentioned her intention to me. Shall you do it?’
‘Of course. Why would I not?’
Archie could think of a dozen reasons. ‘No reason whatsoever, and since I am to be best man, then I shall have the pleasure of offering you my arm when we leave the church.’
‘Goodness, I had not stopped to consider such a requirement.’ She flashed him an impudent smile. ‘Ah well, I have committed myself now, so we shall just have to make the best of it.’
He feigned boredom but could see that she wasn’t convinced by it. ‘That we shall,’ he replied.
‘I have to spend the day at the Court on the tenth to have a dress fitting.’
‘I have business there too. I will take you.’
‘Archie, you can’t keep taking me places. I am sure you don’t just happen to have to be there on that particular day. People will talk if we are continually seen together.’
He flexed a brow in a challenging manner as he leaned one elbow on the arm of his chair and cupped the side of his face in his hand, watching her closely for no reason other than he enjoyed looking at her range of facial expressions that were…well, uniquely expressive. ‘And that bothers you?’
‘Yes…no.’ She threw up her hands. ‘I don’t know. I just want to be myself, do as much good as I can without all the fanfare that my father would consider necessary and without passing judgement on those who fall by the wayside through no fault of their own. I want to do all that and live quietly by myself.’ Archie’s heart quailed at the determination etched into her features. ‘But it isn’t as easy as I thought it would be for a single woman to do as she pleases. Everyone is so judgemental. I sometimes think that—acceptance notwithstanding—the moment I do something that seems…well, forward…’
‘You have something in mind?’ he asked, with a suggestive waggle of his brows. ‘Can I help?’
‘Behave yourself, Archie Felsham! I am pouring my heart out and you are responding by making fun of me.’
‘Never that, my sweet,’ he assured her with a softly intimate smile.
‘Well anyway, I sometimes feel as though I am living my life under a microscope.’
‘Standards are there for a reason, and there will always be those who disapprove of people who flout them. You must have been aware of that when you insisted upon living alone. Don’t let it overset you. You are stronger than you think.’
‘Thank you.’ She sighed. ‘I hope you are right about that, but sometimes it seems as though it’s me against the entire world.’
‘I will always be on your side.’ Archie leaned forward and briefly squeezed her hand. ‘But you won’t let me help you, because you are an infuriatingly independent female!’
Flora laughed. ‘Your reputation is appalling, Archie, and being seen with you will convince my doubters that I am a fallen woman.’
‘Nevertheless, allow me to take you to Beranger Court. Bring Polly with you. That will ensure that I remember my manners and preserve your reputation.’
‘Perhaps.’ Archie noticed that she hadn’t actually accepted his offer, but took comfort from the fact that she hadn’t turned it down either. ‘I had a less welcome visitor than Violet as well.’
Archie sat forward, not interrupting her as she described Conrad’s call in detail. He somehow managed not to ask why she hadn’t sent word to him, relieved that at least she had now raised the subject and that he hadn’t been obliged to resort to subterfuge in order to make her do so.
‘I am sorry you were inconvenienced,’ he said, ever the master of understatement. ‘Perhaps that is what has brought on your doubts about your living arrangements.’
‘Will would have got rid of him, I’m sure, had be refused to leave. Or else I would have set Zeus on him.’
Archie laughed. ‘The countess’s cat is as fierce as his late owner.’
‘Unquestionably. I made it very apparent that his presence was unwelcome, which appeared to confuse him. Clearly he thinks himself irresistible, but I was happy to disavow him of that conviction.’ She paused and fixed Archie with a pensive look. ‘What is he up to, Archie?’ she asked, frowning. ‘To be honest, his intensity frightens me. Not that I would ever permit my feelings to show, and they only exist because of his connection to my father. I mean, obviously he wouldn’t have called if that connection wasn’t there, but I find it very coincidental—far too coincidental—that his duties for Coutts just happened to bring him to our part of the world.’
Archie felt a little unmanned as he watched the gamut of emotions, the uncharacteristic uncertainties flitting across her face. She had never opened up to him quite so candidly before, and his desire to shoulder her burden was compelling. He had never felt his limitations more, acutely aware that he was incapable of offering her the protection she so deserved, physically at least. There were other ways. He thought longingly of the magnificent emerald and diamond ring, his own mother’s engagement ring, sitting in a drawer in this very room, waiting to be slid onto her finger where it belonged.
Were he to find the courage to ask for her hand, all her problems would be at an end and the protection of his name would ensure her safety. He sometimes thought that he invented excuses to avoid declaring himself, afraid of rejection. She was one of the few women in the entire land who would not be influenced by his position of privilege, wealth and consequence. She could have had Luke, if she’d been willing to make compromises, but she had stuck to her guns.
Not being a whole man held Archie back. She would find his scars as repellent as he himself did, but
all the time he refrained from burning his bridges there was still hope for him.
He could dream. Dreams were all he had left.
‘They did not,’ he said into the ensuing silence.
She returned her cup to its saucer with a loud clatter. ‘Excuse me. What did not?’
‘Conrad’s duties did not bring him to the district. He was dismissed from his position at Coutts six months ago.’
‘Good heavens!’ Her eyebrows shot skywards. ‘How do you know? Are you sure?’
‘As I told you, our paths have crossed before and it didn’t end well. When you told me that he was intruding into your life I had Pawson make enquiries.’ Archie held his breath, expecting her to accuse him of meddling again. To his very great relief, she did not.
‘Why was he dismissed?’ She sat forward, watching him intently. ‘Do you know?’
‘Not as yet, but I shall find out. Someone in my circle will know, or will have heard rumours. Not that his position was as important as he makes it out to have been.’ Archie put his own cup aside and smiled at her. For some reason, the gesture caused her cheeks to turn a delightful shade of pink, giving him reason to suppose that she was not entirely indifferent to him. Giving him hope. ‘And we are fairly sure that he was only appointed to the position that he held in the first place because his father used his influence.’
‘How tiresome for you to think of standards being lowered by the wealthy middle classes.’
‘Whatever do you mean?’
‘Well, Coutts has a certain reputation for the refinement of its investors. Having a man who made his money producing steel calling the shots would not have sat well.’
Archie chuckled. ‘I have recovered from the shock—or I will, given time.’ His expression sobered. ‘We have also discovered that his father passed away about nine months ago, and Conrad’s dismissal came not long after that, which implies you are in the right of it and that he was tolerated in order to appease a valued customer.’
A Sense of Fate (Perceptions Book 7) Page 9
