‘Don’t worry, Polly. I know it’s impossible to keep such scandalous activities quiet in a village like this. Or any other village, come to that.’ She chuckled. ‘Papa won’t be pleased about it, but the fact that his daughter was scampering about in such a terrible state will help my cause no end.’ Flora pushed back her chair. ‘I shall go and see if Melanie is stirring. Bring her new things up the moment they arrive. They will help to distract her.’
Flora returned to her bedchamber, where Melanie was still sound asleep and didn’t appear to have moved in the past hour. Perhaps hearing Flora enter the room, she stirred, blinked the sleep from her eyes, looked momentarily alarmed and then sat up.
‘Flora!’
‘It’s all right, darling, I’m here. You were sound asleep and I didn’t want to wake you.’ Flora pulled the curtains aside and allowed weak winter sunshine to flood the room. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Better, I think. I didn’t have dreams for the first time in ages.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Flora sat on the edge of the bed and squeezed Melanie’s good hand. ‘How’s your poor hand?’
‘Not so painful now.’
‘Excellent! We will dress all your wounds again in a moment—but first, are you hungry? Would you like some breakfast?’
Melanie nodded. ‘Yes please.’
Flora rang the bell for Polly and asked for a breakfast tray to be sent up.
‘I’ve never had breakfast in bed before,’ Melanie said, tucking in as soon as her food arrived. ‘It seems awfully decadent.’
‘Papa would have a conniption, I’m sure, but try not to dwell upon his idea of decorum. There is absolutely nothing wrong with having breakfast in bed.’
‘So I am fast discovering.’
Melanie giggled, already beginning to recover from her ordeal. Flora sensed her relief as she showed a touching faith in a sister whom she barely knew anymore by transferring responsibility for her wellbeing onto Flora’s shoulders. Flora was more than ready to assume that mantle and resolve her dispute with her father once and for all.
As Melanie finished eating Polly entered the room, staggering beneath the weight of clothing.
‘What’s this?’ Melanie asked, blinking at the array of bright colours spilling from Polly’s arms. Flora jumped up and relieved her of some of the garments before they fell to the floor.
‘We have brought you a few things to wear,’ Flora said, grinning. ‘Go and wash yourself in the bathroom. Then we will attend to your injuries. After that, you can try things on and see what you like the best.’
Melanie’s face came alight with pleasure as she ran off to do as Flora suggested.
‘Am I being terribly spoiled and big-headed?’ Melanie asked a little later as she swirled in front of the mirror, wearing a peacock blue skirt and a frilly white blouse.
‘Not in the least. Do you like it?’
Melanie’s eyes widened and a smile touched her lips as she examined her reflection from all angles in the long glass. ‘I barely recognise myself.’
‘You look very grown up. I remember how I felt when the countess took exception to my dowdy clothing and insisted upon decking me out in a more flamboyant style.’ Flora grinned. ‘There was nothing anyone could teach her ladyship about extravagant style and the beneficial effect of bright colours, even though she didn’t seem to notice when they clashed. She maintained that the world was far too grey and that we ladies had a responsibility to make it a brighter place. She certainly practised what she preached, and I feel duty bound to continue in her footsteps.’
‘Well, I shall not complain.’ Melanie threw her arms around Flora’s neck. ‘Thank you so very much. You are the best possible sister.’
‘Oh, I don’t believe I am, but I shall accept the compliment.’
‘The countess clearly saw the goodness in you, otherwise she wouldn’t have left you so well provided for.’
Flora smiled affectionately. ‘She and I became very good friends.’
Flora and Melanie made their way down to the sitting room. ‘I resented her, you know,’ Melanie said.
Flora fixed her with a look of surprise. ‘Whatever for? You did not even make her acquaintance.’
‘She took you from us. I felt lonely.’
‘I’m so sorry, my love.’ The girls sat on opposite sides of the fire. Flora reached forward and squeezed Melanie’s uninjured hand. ‘I didn’t think about you, which was very selfish of me. It took all my ingenuity to escape Papa, you see.’
‘Papa said you would be back in no time, but I knew that you would not be. I certainly would not have been, had I found the courage to break free.’
‘Well, you have found that courage now and we are reunited.’
‘I was jealous on the rare occasions when we saw you and you were dressed in such finery.’ She glanced down at her skirt and grinned. ‘But now I am as well.’
‘That you are, which is what you deserve after all that you’ve been through.’
‘When do you suppose Papa will come?’ She sighed. ‘He will come, won’t he?’
Melanie was mature for her years and had always shown signs of the ability to question the doctrine that had been forced upon them since birth in a highly religious household, much as Flora had always done. Three obedient sisters, it seemed, parcelled between Flora and Melanie, the free-thinkers and rebels. It was the first time she had mentioned their father that day. She had been too taken up with her new wardrobe and refreshed from a good night’s sleep to speak his name, but it was clear that the prospect concerned her.
‘Today or tomorrow, I expect, but don’t let it concern you. I will deal with Papa.’
‘He will insist that I return home.’
‘Do you want to?’
Melanie shook her head emphatically, russet curls the same colour as Flora’s dancing on her shoulders. ‘Absolutely not!’
‘Then you shall not. You can remain with me indefinitely.’
‘I can?’ Her eyes glowed. ‘I will not be in the way?’
‘You will have to work hard,’ Flora replied, smiling. ‘I will teach you all about my herbal cures and introduce you to the old ladies in the village whom I try to help. You will like Mrs Finch. She is a favourite of mine. Since you have inherited the gift of second sight, I expect you have also inherited Grandmamma’s way with herbs.’
‘How did you know that you had…well, the gift?’ Melanie asked, frowning.
‘I had the advantage of knowing Grandmamma. She prepared me in many ways, but I didn’t come into my abilities until I was about your age. And then the voice I heard scared me but also comforted me, if that makes any sense.’
Melanie nodded. ‘It has never frightened me.’
‘Whenever I lacked the courage to confront Papa, Remus’s voice made me aware that I was doing the right thing.’
‘Remus?’
‘You know the story of Remus and Romulus, the twin brothers in Roman mythology whose exploits led to the founding of Rome by Romulus.’
Melanie tilted her head. ‘Yes, I have read about it. I felt drawn to that particular story. Perhaps now I understand why.’
‘Remus was killed by his brother.’
‘What’s that?’ Melanie brushed at her ear when a draught wafted past it.
‘Don’t be afraid. That’s Remus, our spirit guide.’ She made a face when Remus’s image materialised, floating between them. ‘He’s here now and you just sensed his presence. I thought he would show himself. He’s the nosiest spirit guide in the entire universe.’
I am doing my duty, I’ll have you know. Precious little thanks I get for it.
Melanie frowned. ‘Did he just say something about doing his duty?’
You see. She’s much quicker on the uptake than you were.
Flora scowled at Remus’s mischief-making. That’s because I have warned her what to expect. I had to get accustomed to your interfering ways with no one to help me.
Ha!
‘You
were talking to him?’ Melanie looked fascinated. ‘How do you do it?’
‘Your mind is already attuned to him because you can hear some of the things he is saying. Probably best that you don’t hear them all. You would be terribly shocked. Remus’s morals are very lax.’
‘Oh good.’ Melanie grinned and bounced on the edge of her chair. ‘I have never met anyone with lax morals. I am sure they must have all the fun.’
Remus flashed a smug, otherworldly smile. She is less strait-laced than you.
‘Remus is supposed to guide me – and you, I imagine – away from danger, or warn us when it’s approaching. Why, I haven’t been able to ascertain, and I don’t think he knows himself.’
I do!
‘You’ve offended him,’ Melanie said, with a worried look.
‘Remus is impossible to offend.’ Flora waved a placating hand. ‘Anyway, all I can fathom is that we are supposed to use our supernatural powers, such as they are, for the greater good. Thanks to Remus, I was able to save Lord Swindon from two unsuitable marriages, as well as do a few other useful things. It’s a much better way to make a difference than getting down on one’s knees and praying all day, whilst disapproving of anyone who dares to question the tenets of one’s religion.’
Melanie looked a little shocked. Flora reminded herself that she was still in the early stages of her rebellion against everything she was brought up to believe in and that it would take time for her to accept that there were alternate views.
‘Who is that crying?’
Flora smiled. ‘Why don’t you go into the kitchen and find out for yourself. There is someone there whom I am sure you will enjoy meeting.’
Flora wasn’t alone for long before Polly came in. ‘Your sister is playing with Alice,’ she said, sounding worried.
‘Of course she is. She adores children and Alice will calm her.’
‘Well, just so long as you don’t mind.’
‘Why ever should I?’
‘Are you going out today, miss?’
‘No, I’d best not. I had intended to call on some of my ladies, but I can’t leave Melanie alone. My father will likely descend upon us today and I need to be ready for him.’
Polly bit her lip. ‘I hate to see you inconvenienced. I wish there was something I could do to help.’
‘You give exemplary service and do more than enough already, Polly.’
Melanie rejoined them. ‘She’s exhausted and has fallen asleep,’ she told Polly as she resumed her seat across from Flora. ‘She’s adorable.’
‘Thank you, miss. I think so too, but then I would, wouldn’t I?’
Trouble’s on its way.
Melanie jerked upright. ‘Is Papa here?’
Flora smiled, glad that Melanie had heard Remus and taken the communication in her stride. ‘I suspect Papa is about to honour us with a visit,’ she said.
Polly looked confused, as well she might. As yet, there had been no sound of a carriage arriving, but it came just after Flora spoke.
A knock, loud and insistent, sounded at the door.
Flora sighed as she straightened her shoulders. ‘You had best let him in, Polly.’
Flora sent an anxious-seeming Melanie a reassuring look seconds before the door burst open and their father strode through it, his expression like granite.
‘There you are, you ungrateful little brat.’ He fixed an accusatory glower on Melanie. ‘Get your things. We are leaving immediately.’
‘Polly, take Melanie upstairs please,’ Flora said calmly.
‘She is going nowhere, other than back to Salisbury with me.’
‘Father, we can either discuss the matter in a rational manner in private, or you can shout at me and let my servants hear every word. The choice is yours.’
Elroy Conrad left Felsham Hall in a towering rage. He had driven a miserable excuse for a horse in a hired carriage since the distance was too far to cover on foot and the conditions were too cold to ride. That had been his first mistake. He had seen the way Felsham’s groom had turned his nose up at his mode of transport, setting him at an immediate disadvantage, even though Felsham hadn’t witnessed his arrival.
He should not have gone to Felsham’s palatial home, which served as a stark reminder of his own failed ambitions. It had been a grave miscalculation, and it had left him disadvantaged. Latimer hadn’t asked him to confront the damned arrogant bastard, and he wouldn’t be best pleased if he heard that Elroy had taken matters into his own hands. He hadn’t been thinking with his own interests at the forefront of his mind, and he blamed Flora for that situation. How dare the little tramp reject his generous offer of friendship! She should be falling over herself in gratitude for being noticed by him. He still smarted every time he thought of the high-handed way in which she had looked down at him, as though she was his better.
Felsham had contemplated him in a similar fashion during their college days, making it apparent in lots of small ways that he wasn’t considered an equal and that his affairs were beneath Felsham’s notice. Elroy desperately wanted to be accepted into the elite set, but he tried too hard; he could quite see that now. Only certain attitudes passed muster. Elroy was treated as an irritating irrelevance by the self-entitled, who took Oxford by storm and left their social inferiors to pick up the crumbs.
Be that as it may, no one would ever convince Elroy that Felsham hadn’t been the one to accuse him of cheating, even though he had casually denied it when confronted, offering his word as a gentleman as his only proof. He’d offhandedly given that assurance in front of his aristocratic friends, and Elroy knew that men of his ilk did not expect to have their word doubted. Nor did they enjoy being forced to actually give their word. In their set, assurances were accepted at face value and Elroy had subsequently been described in his own hearing as being without class.
Felsham had compounded his felony by beating him to the spoils on every occasion when a pretty new face appeared in Oxford making her desire for amusement apparent. Elroy wondered after the event if Felsham had actually felt threatened by him, accounting for the need to accuse him of cheating. The fact that he had paid for a little help with his course work hardly constituted cheating.
One indisputable fact that afforded Elroy some solace was that the ladies liked him as much as they did Felsham. He only won the day because he was a marquess’s heir and possessed an air of self-entitlement; an aloof yet compelling charm that the ladies found enticing. Magda Simpson had been more than satisfied with Elroy’s attentions until Felsham took her from him. Ha! Felsham had more than enough reason to regret such impulsiveness now.
Elroy had survived all the disappointments and unfulfilled expectations life had thrown at him since leaving Oxford, feeling vindicated because his nemesis was dead. He had turned the air blue and remained drunk for a week when he heard of Felsham’s miraculous resurrection.
Only Felsham could survive such a bone-crushing fall. And he knew just how bone-crushing it must have been, having checked the distance for himself just before Simpson received an anonymous tip-off about his wife’s activities.
Far from being free of Felsham, he now had the temerity to dally with the female whom Elroy had decided to cultivate, albeit at her father’s behest. He had assumed the task would be an easy one, never doubting that his charm would win over the mousy creature. Latimer was a little too enthusiastic about using the stick, quite literally. His methods had their place, but Elroy achieved better results by dangling the proverbial carrot. He had planned to extract Flora from Lyneham, send her home where she could cause no further mischief and forget all about her. It would be useful to have Latimer in his debt for a change.
His decision had changed when he reached Lyneham, whiled away half an hour in the local taproom and picked up snippets of gossip concerning Felsham, who walked on water as far as the locals were concerned. Elroy had curled his upper lip in disdain, taking pleasure from the fact that Felsham could barely walk at all nowadays. The man who had strode ar
ound Oxford like a demigod, who rode the most spirited of horses and took whatever he fancied without a thought for the feelings of others was now a cripple. Next to his remaining dead, that was the most satisfactory of outcomes from Elroy’s perspective.
He had paused with a tankard of ale halfway to his lips when he heard Flora’s name mentioned in connection with Felsham. It felt as though steam bellowed from his ears. Clearly, being incapacitated hadn’t slowed Felsham down, and once again he was poaching on Elroy’s territory. Latimer had mentioned in passing that his daughter had become acquainted with the marquess during her employment at Beranger Hall, but the significance of her removal to Lyneham, on Felsham’s doorstep, had not previously occurred to either man.
The situation was dangerous. If Flora was on friendly terms with Felsham and she innocently remarked upon what Latimer thought she might know, Felsham would understand the significance of that revelation. He was also powerful enough to do something about it. Elroy had underestimated him once, and wouldn’t make the same mistake a second time.
Flora and Felsham had to be separated before any damage could be done. Felsham would never marry such a lowly creature—and marriage, despite her ridiculous bid for independence, must be what Flora secretly craved. The respectability of a ring on her finger was what every young woman desired. Flora must simply be made to lower her expectations, and Elroy was just the man to open her eyes.
It surely couldn’t be that hard.
Except that it had been, forcing Elroy into his rash decision to tackle the situation by confronting Felsham directly. Besides, he was curious to see how the cripple now coped. He hadn’t stood at all during Elroy’s visit and he was unable to decide now, after the event, if that was because he didn’t have the use of his legs or whether it was designed as a slight. What he had seen of the man, his upper body behind his solid desk, was a grave disappointment. He seemed as robust and arrogantly self-assured as ever, and Elroy had never been in charge of a situation that he had been expecting to control.
A Sense of Fate (Perceptions Book 7) Page 14
