A Sense of Misgiving (Perceptions Book 3) Page 2

  ‘We shall have a party and celebrate your independence in style,’ the countess decreed. ‘You must have a new gown for the occasion.’

  ‘I must have no such thing!’ Flora gasped. ‘Thank you, my lady, but you have already been far too generous, and it will take me months, years even, to repay the earl for all the clothes you will insist upon ordering for me. I don’t need half of them, as I keep trying to tell you.’

  ‘Ha! Perhaps not, but you enjoy wearing pretty things in bright colours after all that drab grey you arrived here hiding beneath.’

  ‘I cannot deny it, but a party is out of the question. I am not a member of the family, and besides I have no friends to invite.’

  ‘A party you shall have, miss, and you will enjoy it, or I’ll know the reason why. I am not so senile that I don’t know what you get up to. Emma and Charlie both have you to thank for their marital bliss.’ She blew air through her lips. ‘While it lasts.’

  ‘My lady!’

  ‘Ha! Passion wanes, my dear, which is why so many men take mistresses. And why so many married ladies enjoy their little affaires.’

  ‘Not Emma and her Mr Watson, I am perfectly sure of it. And certainly not Charlie and Miranda. They are most definitely soulmates.’

  ‘Romantic twaddle! I don’t suppose you ever celebrated with parties in your childhood home.’

  Flora laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘Heaven forbid!’

  ‘I doubt if heaven had much to do with it. More a case of your father being such a miser.’

  ‘Well, we shall see.’

  ‘There’s nothing to see. You will have a party and a new gown. My mind is quite made up. We shall go into the village soon and consult Mrs Keller. She is a miserable excuse for a dressmaker, but she’s all we have, so we shall just have to make the best of her services. We might as well order you a couple of warmer walking gowns whilst we’re at it. All the ones you have now are for the summer and if you will insist upon dragging my aging bones around the lake every morning, you need to be more warmly attired.’

  ‘Really, I have quite enough.’

  ‘Stop complaining and do as you’re told for once. The evening gown will be a birthday present from me. The rest we can worry about another time.’

  ‘You said that about my summer wardrobe, but earl forgot to deduct some of the cost from my stipend on the last quarter day. However, you can be sure that I shall remind him.’

  ‘He has more to concern himself with than your trifling affairs. You are a terrible trial to me, and seldom remember your place. Even so, I have become accustomed to your bossy ways and I don’t want my grandson replacing you with someone who has absolutely no sense at all.’

  Flora knew when she was beaten and smiled her gratitude. Zeus, the dowager’s unsociable white cat, jumped from the bed and onto Flora’s lap. She smoothed his sleek coat and the cat purred up at her, examining her through piercing green eyes.

  ‘That feline is positively fickle,’ the countess complained.

  ‘You only say that because he likes me as much as he likes you. You are accustomed to being the only person who can touch him, but he seems to have adopted me as well, so we shall have to share his affections.’

  ‘Cats are free spirits, like me in my younger days, and no one can tell him how to behave. That’s why I have some small affection for him.’

  ‘Well, you and Zeus must discuss the matter while I go and make up a tincture for your arthritis. I shall be back directly.’

  ‘I don’t have arthritis. Nor do I have any use for your terrible potions.’

  ‘Of course you do not.’ Flora lifted Zeus onto his mistress’s lap and sent a significant look in the direction of her crooked fingers. ‘I shall be but a moment or two.’

  ‘Please yourself. You always do.’

  *

  Luke Beranger, Earl of Swindon, leaned back in a comfortable chair in front of a roaring fire and savoured the fine cognac that slipped down his throat like nectar.

  ‘Meet with your approval, does it?’ Archie Hardwick asked from the chair facing Luke’s.

  ‘It will serve,’ Luke answered his old friend.

  He still found it hard to believe that Archie, whom he had thought long since dead and buried—he had helped to carry his coffin into the church, after all—was still alive, if not exactly well. Archie had fallen from his mistress’s bedroom window during their final year at Oxford whilst attempting to evade the lady’s husband, who had arrived home unexpectedly.

  Luke had only discovered this past spring that he’d survived the fall and had been living in France ever since. He was severely crippled, walked with the aid of a stick and could no longer sit astride a horse. He could no longer do most things, but at least he was back on English soil. He was going by the name of Pascal Hardwick, but he was still the same old Archie—attractive to the ladies despite his disability, or perhaps because of it, irreverent, intelligent and endlessly entertaining.

  His father, the Marquess of Felsham, was old and infirm, and not expected to last much longer, necessitating Archie’s return to assume some of his future responsibilities. Posing as his father’s nephew, it was ironic that he would eventually become the marquess—a position that as an only son he had been trained since the cradle to one day assume.

  When Archie defied the doctors’ dire predictions and recovered, after a fashion, from his injuries, the deception regarding his true identity had been necessary to settle the demands of a wronged husband. Only seeing Archie buried had prevented that husband from demanding satisfaction and publicly dragging the Felsham title through the mud. Even now after so much time had passed, if the truth emerged and despite the fact that the husband in question was now six feet under himself, it was still wise to remain discreet.

  The wife for whom Archie had risked his all was still very much alive, and had recently tried to cause problems for Luke. Problems that he had resolved with aid from the most unlikely quarter—his grandmother’s paid companion. Magda Simpson had been driven from Swindon, but Luke was under no illusions. If she discovered that Archie was still alive and on the point of inheriting, she would return in attempt to again get her hooks into Archie and create yet more scandal.

  ‘You enjoyed the shoot?’ Luke asked. He had taken Archie with him to Scotland. His friend had been in excellent form; the life and soul of the party. It was at Archie’s urging that Luke had extended his stay beyond his intended two weeks.

  ‘I can still hold a shotgun,’ Archie replied cheerfully, ‘and give you able-bodied chaps a run for your money.’

  ‘And our host’s wife the odd tumble, unless I miss my guess.’

  Archie’s infectious smile widened. ‘What can I say, old chap?’ He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. ‘The lady felt neglected. Bad form to neglect one’s wife. Had to do the right thing by her.’

  ‘I should have thought you’d have learned your lesson after your last dalliance with another man’s property.’

  ‘Ah well, I never was a diligent student, as I’m sure you remember.’

  ‘So it wasn’t the quality of the sport that made you want to linger?’

  Archie chuckled. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that.’

  Luke shook his head. ‘You enjoy dicing with death, I’ll say that for you.’

  ‘When you’ve looked it in the eye the way I have, it’s continuing threat becomes addictive.’

  ‘If you’re hoping for my sympathy, you’ll have a long wait. We all warned you about Magda. It was always going to end badly.’

  ‘Yes, well, it’s all history now. I’m sorry if my insistence upon remaining in Scotland made problems for you.’ He laughed again. ‘Lady Eleanor became obsessed with attracting your interest. Damned annoying, I should think. Mind you, she’d do as well as anyone. Pretty face, decent dowry, good family…what more could you ask? I overheard her mother making plans to visit friends near Swindon.’

  Luke groaned. ‘It will be good to get home,’ he said.

&nb
sp; They had travelled to Scotland and back in Luke’s luxurious carriage, taking the journey in easy stages. Even sitting in a carriage for too long took its toll on Archie. But now they were back at Felsham Hall, Archie’s family seat, just thirty miles from Swindon. Luke would be back on home territory tomorrow, having stopped at his married sister’s abode to collect Mary, his younger sister, and take her home with him.

  ‘Looking forward to seeing that sweet little companion of your grandmother’s, I have no doubt.’

  Luke’s head jerked up. ‘Flora? Good heavens, why would you think that?’

  ‘It’s me you’re talking to, old chap, and I know you better than just about anyone. I’ve seen the way you look at her. Can’t blame you either. Trim little figure and lively wit. Unusual, especially given her circumstances.’

  ‘She’s a commoner, and my grandmother’s companion,’ Luke said irritably, annoyed with Archie because the prospect of seeing Flora again had been playing on his mind. Far too frequently. ‘Even if my thoughts were veering in that direction, which they are not, then she wouldn’t suit.’

  ‘Since when did you care about all that bunk? She’s the daughter of a high-flying clergyman. She’s entirely respectable.’

  ‘We’re not at Oxford anymore, Archie. We have responsibilities, standards which we are expected to maintain and can no longer ignore.’

  ‘Speak for yourself.’

  Both men laughed. Luke drained his glass and stood, yawning.

  ‘I’m for my bed, Archie. I never could keep pace with you when it comes to imbibing, and I know better than to try it when you’re in this sort of mood.’

  Archie swallowed his cognac and stood also, struggling to his feet with the aid of his cane. ‘I’m exhausted, too.’ He leaned heavily on his stick with one hand, wincing from the pain of exertion, and extended the other to Luke. ‘Thank you for the past few weeks,’ he said, giving Luke’s hand a firm shake. ‘It was just what I needed.’

  ‘And more to the point, no one realised that you’re actually Archie,’ Luke replied.

  ‘I think one or two suspected, but I’m pretty good at keeping up the old French accent. And since I lived over there for so long, no one can catch me out on detail. I suppose it doesn’t matter much now if the truth does come out, but I’d prefer it if it didn’t, at least while the old man’s still alive. He sets an awful lot of stock by reputation and that sort of thing.’

  ‘Shame he didn’t pass that quality on to his only son then,’ Luke replied, chuckling as he left the room.

  Chapter Two

  ‘There we are. You will feel better almost at once,’ Flora assured her charge, standing over her until she drank all of the tincture that she had made up for her.

  ‘I did not feel unwell in the first place.’ The countess pulled a disgruntled face as Flora took the empty glass from her hand. ‘But if drinking it stops you from fussing…’

  ‘The weather has changed.’ Flora glanced out the window, distracted by the sound of light rain pattering against the glass. ‘Just what the farmers do not need at this time of the year. They will be worried about getting the harvest in.’

  Zeus had abandoned the countess’s lap and now sat in front of the fire, washing his face. The countess looked tired and Flora could see that she was fighting the need to sleep.

  ‘Shall we dine up here together this evening, my lady? Henry and Sam won’t mind, I am sure,’ she said, referring to the earl’s two unmarried brothers who still resided at Beranger Court. ‘If we are not there, they won’t have to mind their language or watch how much they drink. They can get as drunk as lords, if they feel so inclined.’

  ‘God, I hope not. I’ve fended off enough drunken lords in my time. And why should they mind their language? All the swear words they know, they learned from me.’

  Flora smiled. ‘You and I both know that the excellent educational establishments the boys were sent to taught them a great deal more than the subjects covered by the curriculum.’

  The countess sniffed. ‘I don’t suppose a single swear word was ever uttered in your childhood home.’

  ‘Perhaps not, but I heard more than my fair share of coarse language when visiting the poor and needy, and I survived the experience unscathed.’

  ‘Ha, you—’

  The countess’s pithy retort was cut short when someone tapped at the door and immediately opened it. Flora’s heart did a strange little flip when a familiar masculine aroma filled her senses. The earl had returned! Lady Mary entered the room ahead of him in a flurry of muslin and wearing a broad smile.

  ‘Ah, Grandmamma,’ Mary said, smiling as she knelt to give the countess a kiss. ‘I am so very pleased to see you looking so well, for which Flora must take all the credit. Flora, how do you do. I have had a perfectly lovely time, but I am glad to be home.’

  ‘I am not in the least unwell, and never have been, so your credit is misplaced,’ the countess replied, trying to pretend she was not cheered by the sight of her returned family. ‘I cannot imagine why everyone insists upon turning me into an invalid. I am old, not infirm.’

  ‘Ah, that must be it.’ Mary grinned. ‘Pray excuse me.’

  Flora felt the earl’s eyes resting upon her as he waited for Mary to finish greeting their grandmother. He looked dishevelled, dusty from the road, but otherwise as devastatingly handsome as always. She cleared her throat and smiled at him, determined to pretend that his presence had neither unsettled her nor heralded the return of the inappropriate aspirations she had worked so hard to quell during his absence.

  ‘Grandmamma,’ he said, leaning over to take his turn to kiss her brow. ‘How are you?’

  ‘As well as always, no thanks to this interfering minx.’ She waved a hand at Flora. ‘She will keep insisting that I drink the vilest potions for no apparent reason.’

  ‘And yet you drink them,’ he said, failing to hide his amusement.

  ‘Bah! The hussy would tattle to you if I did not. Then you would feel compelled to replace her and I would be faced with the inconvenience of breaking a new gel in.’

  ‘I would do no such thing. I doubt there is another young woman in England who would have the courage to stand up to you, Grandmamma, so stop trying to invoke my sympathy.’ Luke turned towards Flora, and she was almost sure that his smile softened because he was pleased to see her. Pleased and gratified that she was able to control his contrary relative, she reminded herself. ‘How are you, Miss Latimer? I hope my grandmother has not tried your patience too severely.’

  ‘Not in the least, sir,’ she replied, bobbing a curtsey. ‘Although she continues to try her best to do so.’

  Luke laughed and the awkwardness between them dissipated. The countess surprised her by not voicing an indignant contradiction. She enjoyed their verbal sparring and it was a rare occasion when she didn’t insist upon having the last word.

  ‘I bring the most delightful news!’ Mary cried. Flora’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Emma is expecting a baby. Isn’t that wonderful?’

  ‘Watson wasted no time,’ the countess replied, cackling.

  Luke simply raised a brow and said nothing.

  Flora assured Mary that it was delightful news, aware of her cheeks flaming when she became conscious of Luke studying her again with an expression of faint amusement. She had thought that Mary was about to say her brother had become engaged to be married, and worried now that her horror had been reflected in her expression. That would have been truly mortifying.

  ‘I shall be an aunt, and you a great-grandmother. It’s too exciting!” Mary exclaimed, her excited chatter covering Flora’s embarrassment.

  ‘Away with you, child. Your babbling makes my head hurt.’ The countess, Flora could tell, was as excited as Mary by the news. ‘Ring for Sandwell, Flora. I shall dine downstairs this evening since my family has deigned to remember I’m alive. I wish to hear all their news in more civilized surroundings.’

  Flora smiled and did as she had been asked.

  ‘I
will leave you to Sandwell’s care then, ma’am, and call back for you a little later.’

  ‘Do as you please. You usually do.’

  ‘As cantankerous as ever,’ Luke said, smiling at her as he opened the door and ushered her and Mary through it ahead of him.

  ‘I shall see you later, Flora,’ Mary said, as she scampered off to her room, eyes glowing with newfound awareness. ‘I have so much to tell you.’

  Flora was left alone with the earl.

  ‘I rather think that she has been introduced to a fellow who took her fancy, judging by her bright eyes and pink cheeks,’ Luke said. ‘See what she has to tell you and let me know if you think I should be concerned.’

  ‘Certainly not! If Mary chooses to confide in me I shall keep her confidence.’

  ‘Infuriatingly honourable woman!’ He shook his head. ‘Never mind. I doubt whether Alvin would have introduced her to anyone unsuitable,’ he added, referring to Emma’s husband and his own close friend. A friend who had been with him during his Oxford days and who had shared Luke’s joy, Flora knew, at the unexpected survival of their friend Archie Hardwick. ‘But if you have concerns, I know you will share them with me.’

  Flora conceded the point with a nod. ‘Perhaps,’ she agreed, taking pity on him. It couldn’t be easy for him, she thought, becoming head of this family long before he had expected to assume that responsibility. His parents had died crossing the Atlantic five years previously when they had still been comparatively young.

  ‘How is Grandmamma really?’ he asked.

  ‘She’s frail, I won’t deny it. But my tinctures do help with her aches and pains. Not that she will ever admit it. And the walks I bully her into taking each morning are beneficial, too.’ She impulsively touched his arm. ‘Don’t worry too much about her. She has more years left in her yet.’

  ‘And you? Does she try your patience?’

  ‘Not in the least. I am inordinately fond of her, and she is not nearly as senile as she would have you believe. She behaves outrageously sometimes simply because the devil gets into her and she feels inclined to temper her boredom by making mischief. Of course, it doesn’t help that I am not afraid to stand up to her and never allow her to shock me.’