‘I am so very glad that she has you beside her. You can have no idea how much your presence eases my mind.’
‘You pay me well enough.’ She smiled up at him, feeling a little dizzy when he focused the full weight of his dark, intense gaze on her face. ‘How was the shooting?’
‘Interesting. Archie enjoyed it, which is the main thing. He asks to be remembered to you, by the way.’
Flora’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Good heavens! You talked about me? I am surprised he even remembers who I am.’
‘Stop fishing for compliments, wench. Once met you are not easily forgotten.’
Flustered, Flora looked away from him. ‘You had best excuse me if I am to change and collect the countess. Time is getting on and she’s a stickler for punctuality.’
‘And for a glass of sherry.’
‘That, too.’
Flora smiled, bobbed a curtsey and took herself off to her room. A cold blast of air whistled past her ear as she entered it.
‘Ah, Remus, there you are,’ she said, plonking herself down on the side of her bed, all thoughts of changing and making herself presentable for the earl temporarily forgotten. ‘I wondered what had become of you.’
A puff of smoke not produced from the fire billowed into the room and the shape of Remus, resplendent in a bright blue toga, emerged from it. Alarming cuts and bruises were evident on his bare skin.
I can’t always be pandering to you, my dear. I’ve been involved in the annual chariot races.
‘And came to grief, by the looks of things.’ Flora wrinkled her brow. ‘You’re a ghost. Ghosts don’t bruise, do they?’
Remus pulled himself up to his full height, looking offended. I am not a ghost. Ghosts don’t exist. I thought you more enlightened than that. I am a spirit guide. Got it? A guide. Unpaid and unappreciated, I might add.
‘Don’t pout. It doesn’t become you.’ Flora took a moment to study him more closely. ‘I can see you more clearly than I did the last time you appeared to me.’
Your mind is opening up and your powers are increasing because of it. I told you it would happen. His image flopped down onto the window seat, as though settling in for a long stay.
‘Was there something in particular that you wanted?’ she asked. ‘I have to change for dinner.’
He sent her a mischievous look. Don’t let me deter you.
‘Remus!’
Well, excuse me. I take the trouble to appear, which is exhausting enough, and all I get in return is petulance.
‘Your timing could have been better.’ Flora perched on the edge of her bed. ‘What is it that you need to warn me about?’
Any inklings yourself?
‘What is this? Some sort of guessing game.’
I’m simply curious to know what your senses tell you.
Flora took a moment to consider her response. It seemed odd that her thoughts had dwelt upon Remus during her earlier conversation with the countess, and now here he was. She considered the nature of their discourse at the time and made the connection at once.
‘My father,’ she hissed.
Remus nodded his approval. Go on.
‘He wants me back for some reason, so he will have to act before I reach my majority next month.’
Precisely.
‘But why?’ Flora felt her frustration mount. ‘What do I have that’s so important to him? Oh, I know I defied him by taking this position and that his pride was injured, but I dare say he has got over that by now. What else is there? There is nothing special about me.’
That is not what your handsome earl just told you.
Flora huffed. ‘Eavesdropping? How very discourteous.’
Remus chuckled. Those rules don’t apply to me. One of the advantages of not being mortal. Besides, I get some of my best information from eavesdropping. I wouldn’t be much use to you if I didn’t.
‘And there I was, thinking your information came from some sort of higher deity.’
I’ll take that as a compliment.
‘Of course you will.’ Flora rolled her eyes. ‘Why didn’t I sense your presence, if you were listening to my conversation, my private conversation, with the earl?’
Because I didn’t need you to know I was there. You probably wouldn’t have sensed my presence anyway, given how taken you are with his lordship.
Flora felt her cheeks flame. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! Anyway, about my father. Why is he being so stubborn?’
Why ask me? Remus spread his hands. I can only point you in the right direction. I’m not a mind reader.
‘Can’t you eavesdrop on his conversations?’
Remus pulled a face. All that dreary religious mumbo-jumbo. Not even for you, my dear. A shudder vibrated through his spirit form. Had quite enough of that in my day. Not much has changed over the centuries, other than the fact that supposedly sane men will fight for the sake of their one true god.
‘You sound like the countess.’
A charming lady who speaks a great deal of sense.
Flora nodded. ‘True.’
Anyway, I am your guide. I can’t be flitting all over the place. It takes psychic energy, which is a precious commodity.
‘Papa wants me to marry his curate, Mr Bolton.’
Good heavens. Whatever for?
‘That’s what you’re supposed to tell me.’
I would imagine you could do a great deal better. That attractive earl I just heard you speaking with, for example… He pulled a dreamy face. Now him I would not cast from my bed.
‘Remus!’
We were not so stuffy about that sort of thing in my day. Relations with either gender was deemed perfectly acceptable.
‘Good grief!’
Now I have shocked you. Anyway, about you and the earl, you would like him to be more than an employer, I presume.
‘I thought you couldn’t read minds.’
I’m adept at reading expressions and the way he looked at you just now is not how an employer should look at one of his servants.
‘You’re not helping,’ she cried impatiently. ‘Can we please concentrate upon the subject of my father and what it is that he wants from me.’
Remus yawned. If we must.
‘I thought that’s why you were here.’
Well, my dear, I’ve delivered my message, so duty done. The games in Rome have finished for the time being, so I shall be able to keep a closer watch on you.
‘How very reassuring,’ Flora said flippantly, even though in an odd sort of way it was.
I’d best be off then. But, beware. I have a feeling, more than a feeling, that your father is about to enter into a battle of wills with the earl regarding your return.
‘No watching me change,’ Flora said, wagging a finger at his diminishing figure.
I wouldn’t be interested anyway, my dear…
Remus’s voice grew fainter as his image receded, but Flora remained sitting where she was, wondering if his confirmation of her own nebulous fears would prove to be more of a hindrance than a help. Sometimes forewarned did not necessary mean forearmed, but simply caused one to worry even more. If Remus was right and Papa intended to put pressure on Luke to release her, she wondered how he imagined he would succeed. He had already tired that ploy once and failed, but that would not deter him. Papa did not take kindly to being gainsaid. He was not without influence himself, and should never be underestimated. Threats from the upper echelons of the church would quickly become distracting for a man with Luke’s responsibilities, so he might decide simply to cut his losses, dismiss Flora from her position and be done with it.
She sighed, thinking that she would just have to remain vigilant and see what her father had in store for her. At least now she knew that her imagination had not got the better of her and that she would be seeing Papa again, although she was no nearer to knowing why.
With a heavy sigh, she made her way to the modern bathroom across the hall and commenced her ablutions.
*
Lu
ke entered his library—the hub of his world, his sanctuary—where he was warmly greeted by Paul Dalton, his secretary, valet and one of his closest friends. Paul had been at Oxford with Luke, Archie and Alvin but had fallen on his sword, metaphorically speaking, when Archie first tangled with Magda Simpson. Paul, the one with the least to lose, had nobly pretended to be the man intimately involved with Magda. Simpson made such a stink that the college were obliged to send Paul down. His sacrifice had proven to be in vain since Magda’s hold over Archie had been too strong for him to resist further temptation, leading to the devastating consequences that left him a permanent cripple.
Paul was now employed by Luke, who trusted him absolutely.
‘Welcome home,’ Paul said, shaking Luke’s outstretched hand. ‘How was the shooting?’
‘Same crowd as always. I got bored, but Archie…’ He shrugged. ‘Well, you know how Archie can be, and I couldn’t find it in myself to curtail his pleasures. He gets precious few of them nowadays, the way he is.’
Paul chuckled as he poured whisky for them both and handed a glass to Luke. ‘Don’t let Archie hear you pitying him. He’d hate it.’
‘What have I missed?’
‘Nothing of consequence. It’s all been peace and harmony here. We barely noticed you were gone.’
Luke grunted. ‘Nice to feel wanted.’
‘You deserved a break. You work too hard.’
‘I brought Mary back with me. I think she’s taken a fancy to one of Alvin’s friends.’
Paul scowled. ‘Who? I doubt he’s good enough for her.’
Luke sent Paul a probing look, wondering if there was a prior attraction on Paul’s part. He decided not to ask. Flora would know. He’d check with her when he got a moment. Or maybe he wouldn’t; he was beginning to depend on her too much, which was unfair on her. Archie had noticed that dependency and commented upon it. Wouldn’t do to give the chit the wrong idea.
‘I don’t know. I may be imagining things.’ Luke leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. ‘Perhaps she’s just growing up and I hadn’t noticed. She is seventeen, after all.’
‘Eighteen,’ Paul said quietly.
‘Good lord, is she really? Of course. Her birthday would have been while I was in Scotland. I had best arrange a belated gift.’
‘I took the liberty.’
Paul reached into a drawer and produced a jewel case. Luke opened the lid and extracted a pretty bracelet set with small sapphires.
‘Perfect! What would I do without you?’
‘You pay me to take care of these details.’
‘Anyway, Mary’s blossoming and I dare say I shall be beating off suitors with a big stick soon enough.’
‘Mary’s a sensible girl. She won’t allow her heart to rule her head.’
‘All girls do that when they think themselves in love,’ Luke replied, rolling his eyes.
‘There is one thing you should be aware of.’ Paul hesitated. He looked uncertain, which worried Luke because there wasn’t normally any awkwardness between them. ‘A letter came by express a few days ago.’ He paused again. ‘From Flora’s father.’
‘Good heavens, what does he want now?’
‘His daughter back.’
‘Well, she doesn’t want to go, so he’s out of luck.’ Luke realised he’d spoken too loudly and moderated his tone. ‘Grandmamma likes her. Besides, I’d rather not go through the rigmarole of finding a suitable replacement.’
‘You’d best read his letter before you decide.’
Luke took it from Paul’s outstretched hand with a strong sense of misgiving. He scanned its contents and then threw it aside, his temper in danger of erupting.
‘What the devil…How did he…? I mean, this is tantamount to blackmail.’ Luke stood and paced the length of the room. ‘He can’t possibly know. Not for sure.’
‘Well, he seems to think he has proof, and if he makes what he knows public, your family will suffer the consequences.’
Luke tapped his forefinger against his teeth. ‘To say nothing of what it will do to Grandmamma.’
‘It might be easier just to let the chit go.’
‘The devil I will!’ He glowered at Paul. ‘You’d have me give in to blackmail? I thought you knew me better than that.’
‘The rumours will be sufficient to tarnish your family’s reputation, regardless of the lack of proof, to say nothing of Mary’s chances of making a good marriage.’
Luke threw up his hands, aware that it was true. ‘For a while, perhaps, but all this happened a long time ago. People will gossip for a week or so, but does it really matter?’
‘You and I both know that society enjoys raking over scandal, which will be become more exaggerated with every telling. It will last longer than you think. You are young, rich and powerful, so there are some who will resent those attributes and enjoy contributing to your downfall. There are probably people still alive who remember the incident Latimer refers to, willing to embellish it for spiteful reasons. Latimer must have access to one of them, otherwise he wouldn’t have risked dropping hints to you. He hasn’t said much, but what he has said is sufficient for you to sue for libel.’
‘And if I don’t, it would be tantamount to admitting he’s got it right.’ Luke slumped in his chair. ‘I wish I knew why he wants Flora back so badly. Threatening a belted earl is extreme behaviour, and smacks of desperation. There has to be more to it than wounded pride because she defied him and took a position here.’
‘It’s her birthday in a few weeks and she will be one-and-twenty. After that she’ll be beyond Latimer’s control.’
‘Will she?’ Luke fell to momentary contemplation. ‘I will have to talk to her. She needs to be made aware.’
‘Be careful, Luke. I know you want to keep her here, but she might decide that she’s more trouble to you than she’s worth and give notice, if only to protect you.’
‘I shall make it very clear that I won’t release her. Her wretched father is not the only one willing to fall back on blackmail, if necessary. I shall remind her just how fond of her Grandmamma is and how unkind it would be to desert the old lady at this stage of her life.’
Paul chuckled. ‘I thought you might say that.’
‘We’d best have a party to celebrate Mary’s birthday,’ Luke said, abruptly changing the subject. ‘Speak with Mrs Kemp for me please, Paul, and arrange it for Saturday evening. Sorry to burden you. You already have enough to do, but I got used to Emma taking care of those duties and I can hardly ask Mary to arrange her own party.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll see to it.’
‘I’ll send notes to our intimate friends, and Emma and Charlie, of course.’
Paul nodded and took himself off, leaving Luke to read through the rest of the urgent correspondence that Paul had left for him to make decisions upon. But he couldn’t concentrate, and his mind kept drifting back to Flora’s father and his crude attempts at blackmail.
Luke stood at the long window, watching the leaves blown across his lawns by a gusty wind, grimly determined. He was accustomed to men from all walks of life attempting to dupe him in some way. He’d only met Latimer once, and then briefly, but he had taken him in instant dislike. He represented all that Luke disapproved of in the rigid mindset of senior clergy, who seemed to think that their calling set them on a higher level than the rest of mankind.
But his threats were not idle, and Luke knew better than to underestimate him since he did indeed have the power to tarnish the Beranger name.
Chapter Three
Flora, lost in speculation after Remus’s visit, was obliged to rush her preparations for dinner, reminding herself that no one would take much notice of her appearance. Even so, she wore her finest evening gown, a simple garment fashioned from green shimmering silk—the best of four that she now owned. Four! And all thanks to the countess’s generosity.
Her heavy copper curls were in disarray as usual, and refused to cooperate when she attempt
ed to restore them to some sort of order. Time constraints obliged her to leave more spirals than usual dangling around her shoulders. They would only fall down again before she reached the drawing room if she attempted to pin them in place.
‘Are you ready, ma’am?’ she asked, returning to the countess’s room and trying not to groan when she saw that her charge had settled upon one of her more flamboyant outfits. The gown had supposedly been made for her in India, after the earl’s early death and during the steamy affair she insisted she had conducted with a maharajah. The rainbow of clashing colours hurt Flora’s eyes. ‘I can see you are in a cheerful mood this evening. Pleased at the prospect of welcoming Emma’s baby into the world in a few months’ time, no doubt.’
‘You look rather elaborate yourself.’
‘Since your ladyship insists that I only have the finest of evening gowns, even someone as unremarkable as me cannot help looking smart.’ She squeezed the old lady’s arm. ‘You are very kind, and far too generous.’
‘I keep telling you, irritating child, that I am never kind.’ She linked her arm through Flora’s. ‘Now come along. That’s quite enough of standing there admiring yourself and fishing for compliments. We had best go down. My throat is parched.’
‘Water is the best remedy for a dry throat,’ Flora told her with a wry grin as they descended the stairs at a sedate pace. The countess clung to Flora’s arm and leaned heavily on the bannister. Flora wanted to tell her that she would never permit her to fall, but knew that the old lady would dismiss that assurance as sentimental nonsense.
‘You can drink water if you want to.’ The countess sent her a scathing look. ‘It probably suits your puritanical soul.’
Flora smiled. ‘Oh my lady, how you misjudge me.’
‘On the contrary, child. I understand you better than you understand yourself.’
‘Am I so very transparent?’
They reached the drawing room before the countess could respond. The rest of the family—including Paul, who like Flora was treated as one of them—was already assembled there. Mary bounded up to them, beaming.
A Sense of Misgiving (Perceptions Book 3) Page 3
