A Sense of Purpose

by Soliman, Wendy

  ‘Christina will be aware that Daley thinks too well of you to commit any suspicions she might harbour to paper.’ Flora smiled. ‘So if you are curious, you had best pay her a visit. I assume she still lives locally.’

  ‘Yes, this side of Swindon.’ Her expression closed down. ‘But I cannot go; not alone. It’s one thing coming here. Christina can hardly object to that. But she does have a right to ask where I go and what I do. She is my guardian and—’

  ‘And you think she will raise objections if you decide to visit Daley?’

  ‘If she is worried about what Daley might tell me, then yes. If I insist she will likely also insist upon accompanying me, preventing Daley from speaking openly.’

  ‘Well then, it seems to me that the solution to your difficulty is sitting beside you.’ Flora flashed a mischievous smile. ‘Today is not normally my afternoon off but he countess is recovering from a malady and resting, so might not need me. If she does not, then I dare say the earl’s coachman will drive us into Swindon if I ask him nicely enough.’

  ‘Really? You would take that trouble for me?’ ‘Miranda widened her eyes, the simple gesture demonstrating to Flora just how seldom anyone had put themselves out on her behalf since her father’s death. ‘When I heard that you were a senior clergyman’s daughter I…well, I imagined you would be prim and proper. But I got that quite wrong, which accounts for the countess not having scared you away, I imagine.’ She clutched Flora’s hand impulsively. ‘Really, you are a breath of fresh air, and everything I could hope for in a friend.’

  ‘Thank you. I am so very glad you feel that way and don’t imagine that I am interfering.’ Flora stood. ‘The girls mentioned having luncheon served in Emma’s sitting room. Go and join them for a while, if you’ve a mind to. I will check on the countess and see what arrangements I can put in hand.’

  ‘You are very kind.’

  ‘Not at all. It’s my pleasure to help.’

  They returned to the house together. Flora went in search of Luke before going to check on the countess. She found him in his library, Romulus asleep on the rug in front of the fire. The big dog lifted his head when she walked in, woofed once and bounded across the room to greet her, placing his huge paws on her shoulders and almost knocking her from her feet. His tail wagged frantically enough to create a draught as her face received a thorough licking.

  ‘He remembers who rescued him,’ Luke said, standing and smiling at her.

  ‘He looks as good as new,’ Flora replied, patting his head.

  Flora disentangled herself from the ungainly dog and took a chair close to the fire at Luke’s bidding.

  ‘How is Grandmamma? I received your message this morning to say that she is recovering. I looked in on her but she was sleeping.’

  ‘And I was absent from my post.’

  ‘You perform your duties with diligence. No one can fault you, especially when they observe the improvements in Grandmamma since your arrival.’

  ‘I was with the girls, supervising wedding gown fittings.’

  ‘Ah, I see.’ He grinned. ‘A vital duty.’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Luke’s expression sobered as she went on to relate what she had just learned from Miranda.

  ‘It’s as we supposed, then,’ he said, scowling. ‘I am glad that Charlie warned Miranda and she had the foresight to avoid Matthew’s proposal. But he won’t give up. He will be better prepared next time and will try to coerce an acceptance from her.’

  ‘Perhaps, but he will not succeed. Miranda has developed a strong determination not to be browbeaten, especially since the doubts she buried about her father’s death have resurfaced. Besides,’ she added with a whimsical smile, ‘I rather think that Miranda’s affections are already engaged elsewhere.’

  Luke rolled his eyes. ‘I think you should definitely go with Miranda to see her governess,’ he said. ‘Her sudden dismissal sounds highly suspicious, and she might be willing to tell the adult Miranda things that she kept from her as a child. See if you can get the name of the doctor who attended Defoe and signed the death certificate.’

  ‘I will do my very best. I share your opinion regarding Miss Daley and her willingness to speak out. I get the impression, with nothing more than my trusty sixth sense to back it up, that she was honourable and saw straight through Christina’s stratagems.’

  ‘Which is why she had to be dismissed.’

  ‘Yes. I look forward to making her acquaintance.’ Flora bit her lip. ‘But what of the countess? I ought to be here—’

  ‘I will ensure that she’s not left alone. Besides, you won’t be gone above a couple of hours.’ He stood, took her hand and pulled her to her feet. He delayed releasing her hand and look as though he wanted to say something else. ‘Go and have some luncheon yourself,’ he said brusquely, letting her go and turning away from her. ‘I will arrange for a carriage to be outside in an hour, if that will be convenient.’

  Confused by the sudden distance in his tone, she nodded. ‘Perfectly so, thank you.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Luke watched Flora leave his library, wishing he knew what it was about her that he found so compelling. Why images of a senior servant lingered in his mind with such tenacious determination. Why the air of restless energy and quiet determination that he associated with her struck such a resonant chord with him. He’d been close to overstepping the bounds a moment or two ago, simply because she looked so genuinely sympathetic about Miranda’s situation—a girl with whom she was barely acquainted. Her father was a fool to be ashamed of her. She had more Christian compassion in her little finger than he had in his entire straitlaced body.

  She was neither classically beautiful nor well connected, but he wasn’t the only one who found that elusive something about her so distracting. He’d seen other men, guests in this house, looking at her with speculative interest. Sooner or later another man would secure her affections, damn his impudence, and she would be planning a wedding of her own. It disturbed Luke that he felt so…well, disturbed by the prospect.

  You could always marry her yourself.

  He sighed, well aware that he could not. He was an earl, a man looked up to and respected, with a position to maintain. His authority would be compromised if he married so far beneath himself. He slapped his hand in frustration against the surface of his desk, causing Romulus’s heard to jerk up. The dog let out a soft whine.

  ‘My thoughts exactly, Rom,’ he said with a protracted sigh, reminding himself that he still hadn’t made the visit he had promised himself to his mistress. It was now long overdue and a matter of increasing urgency.

  Not the type to mope over situations that couldn’t be changed, Luke went up to check on his grandmother. She was asleep in her chair, her maid beside her, but her eyes opened at the sound of Luke’s voice talking quietly to Sandwell.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, taking her hand.

  ‘That wretched child has sent up another of her vile potions,’ she complained, pointing to a glass on the table at her side.

  ‘Which you have not drunk.’

  ‘I don’t need it. It does no good.’

  ‘Then drink it to oblige me. If it does no good, it follows that it does no harm either.’ Luke picked up the glass and held it to her lips.

  ‘You are as bossy as the bible-basher,’ she complained, swallowing the liquid in one gulp and pulling a face.

  ‘Flora is going out with Miranda for a few hours this afternoon.’ Luke took the empty glass from his grandmother’s hand and set it aside. ‘Can you manage without her?’

  ‘I don’t need her at all. It is you who forced her upon me.’ The old woman paused, her curiosity getting the better of her, just as Luke had known that it would. ‘Where is she going?’

  ‘I thought you had no interest in her affairs.’

  ‘I am merely making conversation. But of course if you don’t want to tell me. No one tells me anything anymore,’ she grumbled. ‘I might as well be de
ad.’

  ‘So melodramatic,’ Luke said, grinning. ‘Don’t die before Emma’s wedding. It will cast a pall over the entire affair.’

  The old lady harrumphed. ‘Heaven forbid that I should inconvenience anyone.’

  Luke shook his head, glad that her fighting spirit had returned. He kissed her brow and stood to leave. Glancing back from the open doorway, he noticed that her eyes had already closed again. She had definitely become weaker, he realised with a jolt, but Luke had faith in Flora’s abilities to keep her healthy for a lot longer yet. He was not ready to part with his beloved grandmother.

  And equally unwilling to part with Flora.

  In a thoroughly unsettled mood, he arranged for a carriage to be made available to Flora and Miranda and watched from his library window an hour later when the two ladies stepped into his open landau.

  Another hour passed, in which he achieved little, other than to brood. There were days when he would prefer to have be born a blacksmith, and this was one of them. He chuckled, thinking that if he had been, he’d be no better off. His lowly status would make Flora too good for him. She was anyway, he conceded, being pure of heart and clear of conscience. The condition of his own conscience, by contrast, was questionable. Being an authoritative figure sometimes required him to make harsh decisions that troubled the conscience in question. It was impossible for him to please everyone.

  ‘Who died?’ Paul asked, walking into Luke’s library and taking in his sullen expression.

  ‘Anyone who annoys me today.’

  ‘As bad as that?’ Paul gave a sympathetic shrug. ‘How is the countess?’

  ‘Argumentative.’

  ‘That’s encouraging.’ Paul settled himself in the chair across from Luke’s desk, having first endured an enthusiastic greeting from Rom. ‘And talking of news, I have some about the Coopers.’

  ‘Do tell,’ Luke replied, yawning as he stretched out his legs to one side, crossing his booted feet at the ankle.

  ‘Cooper Enterprises passed into Philip Cooper’s incapable hands upon the death of his father five years ago.’

  ‘Not that long before Defoe died.’ Luke twitched a brow in thoughtful contemplation. ‘Coincidence?’

  ‘Couldn’t say. What I can tell you is that the export business was started by his great-great grandfather. Silks, sugar, iron…the usual. It did well, until it fell into the grandfather’s hands. Steam ships were putting up stiff competition and the grandfather didn’t move with the times. Then he got caught up in that South Sea affair, almost bankrupting his company and leaving Philip’s father with a failing and debt-ridden enterprise.’

  ‘At which point he should have let it be and found another way to keep the wolf from the door, but I’m guessing that he didn’t do the sensible thing.’

  ‘He did not. Pride within the Cooper clan is, I’m reliably informed, a major failing. Determined not to be the pair of hands deemed responsible for the demise of a company that had been operating for over a hundred years, he cultivated the good opinion of a mutual acquaintance of ours.’ Paul paused, causing Luke to send him a suspicious look. He sensed he wasn’t going to like what he heard next.

  ‘Who?’ he asked.

  Paul swallowed. ‘The Marquess of Felsham.’

  ‘Archie’s father,’ Luke said softly, referring to a close friend of Paul, Alvin and Luke himself during their university days. Archie had been drawn in by the wiles of a married woman—the same married woman who had tried to exact revenge by trapping Luke into the unsuitable marriage that Flora had saved him from a few weeks earlier. Archie fell to his death escaping from the woman’s rooms when her husband came home unexpectedly.

  ‘Quite. My information is patchy, but I gather that Felsham saw potential in Cooper’s business and agreed to become a sponsor. Cooper had good trading contacts and if he could update his fleet to compete with others plying the same routes, they would both profit.’

  ‘Felsham is usually an astute judge of character, so I assume something went wrong?’

  ‘It did. As you say, Felsham is nobody’s fool. He loaned Cooper the funds he needed but weighed the contract heavily in his own favour. In other words, he could call his loans in at any time if Cooper failed to live up to his side of the bargain. I gather one of his ships got caught in a storm and went down with all hands. A couple of his most dependable customers lost faith in him after that and transferred their business elsewhere, so—’

  ‘So Felsham cut his losses.’

  ‘Exactly. Cooper had to sell almost everything to repay him and avoid debtors’ gaol. He died a broken man, no doubt begging Philip on his death bed to put things right once and for all.’

  ‘Family honour and all that.’ Luke rolled his eyes as he paused to consider the ramifications of what he had just heard. ‘And now, instead of learning from his father’s and grandfather’s mistakes, Philip Cooper is equally determined to resurrect a failing business and restore his family’s reputation.’ Luke tapped his forefinger against his lips. ‘I would applaud his loyalty, but for the fact that he’s attempting to go about it by manipulating Miranda.’

  ‘It might explain why he seemed less than enthusiastic with your society. He feels betrayed by Felsham and has tarred all aristocrats with the same brush.’

  ‘Felsham did nothing wrong, other than to show a lack of judgement in backing Cooper in the first place. But then if the father was half as plausible as the current generation is, I can see him being taken in by him. Archie often told us that his father was willing to give men with passion and drive an opportunity to prove themselves. In Cooper’s case he made a mistake and bailed out. In his position, I would have done the same thing.’

  ‘Well, at least now we know what Cooper is attempting to achieve, but are no nearer to discovering if he persuaded Christina to kill her husband in order to get his hands on his fortune.’

  Luke stood and poured whisky for them both. He handed a glass to Paul, who accepted it with a nod of thanks. ‘Charlie has gone up to London to see Miranda’s solicitor, and Flora and Miranda have gone to see her old governess.’ Luke explained the reason for her dismissal. ‘We should know more from both quarters soon.’

  *

  Miranda and Flora left Beranger Court in Luke’s open landau, a liveried footman up behind.

  ‘I feel like royalty,’ Flora remarked, putting up her parasol. ‘I only ever travel in style when I am with the countess. I have you to thank for this experience. When I arrived here to take up my duties I was collected from the station in a dog cart.’

  Miranda adjusted the brim of her hat and smiled. ‘You have more than earned the right to travel in comfort. If anything, more so than me. I am no better born than you are. Less well, in fact. You are an important clergyman’s daughter. A status affords you automatic respect across all strata of society.’

  Flora pursed her lips. ‘Respect, in my opinion, should be earned, not bestowed.’

  ‘Well, you are assured of my respect, and gratitude, no matter how things turns out. As I say, I am from average middle-class stock. The only difference is that Papa made a lot of money, using his wits and ambition to get ahead. I am tolerated because I am wealthy, but I will never be accorded automatic acceptance into the upper echelons of society. Times are changing, but they still close ranks against the likes of me.’

  ‘Even though you are wealthier than most of them.’

  Miranda chuckled. ‘Precisely. Be assured that I know my place.’

  Flora wiped imaginary perspiration from her brow. ‘I am so very glad that we have resolved that point.’

  They both laughed. ‘Anyway, I value your wise counsel and friendship, Flora. It would not have been easy to find a way to visit Daley without your connivance.’

  Flora grinned. ‘As the rebellious daughter of an important clergyman, I learned to be devious at an early age, otherwise I would never have done anything my parents disapproved of, which was everything the slightest bit pleasurable.’

 
‘Devious out of necessary, perhaps, but unlike Christina and her new family, never dishonest. There is a difference.’

  Flora agreed that there was. They spent the rest of the short journey talking about inconsequential matters, enjoying the passing scenery on a warm day that had brought a lot of people out of doors.

  The carriage pulled up in front of a row of neat terraced cottages. The one that housed Miss Daley boasted a small front garden that was bursting with colour.

  ‘That is just typical.’ Miranda wiped away a tear. ‘Daley always did have green fingers.’

  The tiger jumped down from his perch, opened the door and let down the steps. He handed each of the ladies out. Flora thanked him and asked the coachman to wait for them.

  They walked up a neat front path and knocked on a freshly-painted blue door. It was opened by a young maid but before she could ask them their business she was pushed aside by a refined-looking lady of about sixty, simply yet elegantly attired, who gaped at them.

  ‘Miranda?’ She blinked several times, as though she didn’t trust her own eyes. ‘Is it really you?’

  She opened her arms and Miranda hurtled herself into them. Both ladies had tears streaming down their faces when they finally pulled apart.

  ‘I have missed you so much, Daley,’ Miranda sniffed. ‘But where are my manners. Allow me to introduce Miss Flora Latimer.’

  Miss Daley subjected Flora to a shrewd assessment, then smiled and offered her hand. ‘Come along inside, both of you.’

  ‘This is a very comfortable cottage, Daley,’ Miranda said, glancing around a sitting room cluttered with pretty knick-knacks, vases with fresh flowers spilling from them, and too much furniture. A large tabby cat lay full length in front of a small fire.

  ‘Thanks to you it is.’

  ‘Oh, the pension, you mean.’ Miranda flapped a hand. ‘Think nothing of it. It is less than you deserve.’