The old lady settled herself into a more comfortable position and Flora draped a rug across her knees. ‘What did you make of Louise Pearson?’ the countess asked. ‘I saw you talking to her for a long time.’
‘I liked her very much indeed. She’s calling to see me today, as a matter of fact.’ Flora tilted her head as she looked up at the countess from her low stool. ‘Why have I heard no mention of her before? I have met Marianne Pearson several times but you never told me that she had an older sister in London.’
‘I had forgotten about her. She seldom visits her grandmother. There was some difficulty, I think. Fanny Pearson seldom refers to it, so I don’t raise the subject.’
‘Tell me what you know about them. Unless you really do want to sit in silence we have to talk about something, and I confess to being curious.’
‘Fanny Pearson and I were girls together. We had our come-outs the same year. She is a viscount’s daughter and married the younger son of an earl.’
‘A bit like Sam or Henry.’
‘Correct. Highly respectable. There was some money in the marriage. Enough to see Fanny comfortably settled here in Swindon after her husband died. But obviously not enough to support future generations. Her son, Louise and Marianne’s father, went into trade.’ Flora grinned when the countess enunciated the word as if it was a contagious disease. ‘There was no necessity for the aristocracy to lower themselves in that fashion when I was a gel. Gentlemen with pockets to let simply married for money, overlooking the discrepancies in rank between themselves and their intended and elevating the fortunate females to our level. All that’s changed now though. We have these middle-classed nabobs thinking they’re our equals just because some of us have mismanaged things and don’t have the blunt to run our estates.’ The countess shook a gnarled finger beneath Flora’s nose. ‘Well, let me tell you, money does not a gentleman make.’
‘I should say not,’ Flora agreed, swallowing down a smile.
‘Anyway, Pearson married for love. A gel from amongst our ranks. Besotted with her, so he was. A bit like Charlie is with Miranda, or Watson and our Emma. Anyway, his wife died giving birth to Marianne and the poor young man was inconsolable. I remember it well. He wouldn’t look at Marianne and took himself off abroad for five years, doing whatever he did to amass his fortune.’
Flora frowned. ‘What happened to the girls?’
‘They were left with a nursemaid in Pearson’s London house. Louise was four at the time, and Marianne just a baby. His wife’s sister, who never married, moved in to keep house. The situation was a Godsend from her perspective since she had nowhere else to go. Anyway, Pearson lost all interest and no one heard from him much for those five years. When he came back, Fanny assumed he’d had time to recover from his grief and would no longer hold Marianne responsible for the death of his wife, but the foolish man still couldn’t bear to see her.’
‘So the wife’s sister offered to raise Marianne while your friend raised her other granddaughter.’ Flora sighed. ‘It must be blissful to love someone to that extent but rather unfair of him to blame the daughter for his loss. Is Mr Pearson still alive?’
‘No, he died a year ago without ever reconciling with Marianne. It was as though he only had one daughter. He was very affectionate towards Louise, perhaps because she so closely resembles her mother. He left Louise his entire, considerable fortune and not a penny for Marianne.’
‘That is so unjust!’
‘Aye well, no one said life was fair. I dare say Louise will look after her sister.’
‘Who looked after Louise after her father’s death? She is younger than me by about a year, I think. Too young to be alone in the capital, surely?’
‘The aunt is still ensconced in the London house and will never he ousted from it unless Louise marries, I suppose, in which case she will expect to be rewarded for all her years of service. Mrs Pearson doesn’t like her, which made things difficult, what with Marianne living here and her sister staying in London under that woman’s care. I think that’s why Louise didn’t come to visit her grandmother very often. Her aunt wanted full control of her and manipulated her into believing she was being disloyal whenever she suggested coming here for a month or two.’
‘Families.’ Flora shook her head. ‘Not that I am in any position to cast aspersions, given how badly my own has behaved towards me, but still…’
‘When Fanny told me that she was finally to enjoy a prolonged visit from Louise, I suspected at once that something must have happened to drive a wedge between her and her aunt. But if Fanny knows what that occurred then she isn’t saying, and I am not crass enough to ask.’
‘Of course you are not,’ Flora said, covering the countess’s hand with her own, well aware that she could be the soul of discretion when the occasion called for it.
‘Anyway, I did suggest that if Louise needed to confide in someone, then you would be the ideal person. You are not quite as silly as most young gels and not easily shocked, so help her if you can, my dear.’
‘You think Louise has done something shocking?’ Flora’s eyes sparkled. ‘How delicious!’
The countess shook her head, setting her jowls wobbling. ‘If she has, it will be beyond your understanding. You are still an innocent for all your forward ways.’
‘I will do my very best for Louise, even if it only amounts to lending a sympathetic ear.’ Flora stood to throw another log on the fire, then resumed her place on her stool. ‘You look a little better now. You have more colour.’
‘There was nothing wrong with me other than old age and aching bones. Don’t fuss so.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ Flora leaned her chin on her splayed hand. ‘While I was in the stillroom, I made up a poultice mix for Lord Hardwick. I gave it to his man and told him to make his master use it. It might help his aches and pains if he bothers to persevere.’
‘That was thoughtful of you. Have a care though, Flora. Hardwick’s a scallywag and he has an eye for you.’
Flora blushed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! I might not live up to my father’s exacting standards of conduct but I am no lightskirt either.’
‘Oh, that’s not what he has in mind. He’s on the prowl for a wife.’
Flora threw back her head and laughed. ‘That would be the mésalliance of the decade. Even worse than Miss Gregory’s clumsy attempts to attract the earl.’
‘Ha! She’s wasting her time there. Luke’s had duty and standards drummed into him since he was in short coats. Maintaining the family’s standing mattered more to my son than just about anything, and Miss Gregory’s pedigree would most certainly let the side down. My son might be dead but his legacy lives on and he’d turn in the family crypt if a woman of her lowly standing became mistress of this house.’
‘Naturally.’ Flora swallowed, wondering how the countess would react if she knew that her grandson, with his rigid standards, had purchased an expensive horse for a mere servant and ridden out with her unchaperoned.
‘Besides,’ the countess added, shuffling in her chair and folding the ends of her shawl between her fingers, ‘the girl’s a ninny and Luke would tire of her company the moment he’d bedded her.’
‘Very likely.’ She grinned. ‘But isn’t that why gentlemen of his stature keep mistresses? To ward off the boredom of the marriage bed.’
‘Huh! A good wife makes sure boredom in that area does not become an issue.’
The conversation turned more general after that. The countess dropped off to sleep in her chair mid-sentence and by the time Sandwell returned with her luncheon she was snoring softly.
⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎
Luke looked up from his paperwork and grinned at Archie when he hobbled into the library, dressed for the road.
‘You’re leaving us,’ Luke said, putting his pen aside.
‘Best not overstay my welcome.’ He leaned heavily on his stick as he bent to fuss over Romulus, who’d trotted up to him, demanding attention.
‘You
know that could never happen, irritating as you often are.’
‘Tempting though it is to trespass on your hospitality, the pater needs me. His health is failing and I need to keep on top of things at Felsham Hall. Not being able to ride the estate and examine progress for myself, I am required to be extra vigilant. Still, it keeps me out of mischief.’ He grinned. ‘Most of the time.’
Luke expressed his sympathy. ‘My regards to your father. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.’
‘Wouldn’t want to interrupt your horseback excursions with a certain spirited female.’
‘What?’
‘I saw you returning earlier. I seldom sleep well. Looking out the window and thinking about all the things I could be doing if I had full use of these damned legs sometimes helps. Often hinders.’ His brief moment of self-pity gave way to a roguish smile. ‘Surprising what one sees.’
‘I gave Flora the horse as a birthday gift, since you insist upon knowing.’
‘Ah, that would explain it.’ Archie’s grin widened.
‘Sometimes I preferred it when you were dead.’
‘Death is overrated, my friend. Take it from one who knows.’ Archie’s expression sobered. ‘Have a care about the Gregory girl,’ he said. ‘Can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s something not quite right about her. Something other than her less than subtle attempts to attract your interest, that is.’
‘Thanks for your concern, but I don’t have the slightest intention of being in the same room as her ever again, if it can possibly be avoided.’
The old, scurrilous Archie re-emerged through a devilish grin. ‘No solitary morning rides with her in the planning?’
Luke shuddered. ‘God forbid!’
Paul joined them at that point and shook Archie’s hand too. ‘We’re getting rid of you, I take it.’
‘Luke, don’t you think there’s something positively offensive about the smug look on the faces of men who are about to marry for love?’
Luke nodded. ‘I have to agree with you. Should be a law against it.’
‘What can I say.’ Paul spread his hands and his smile widened. ‘When you know, you know. Hopefully you will both find out for yourselves in due time.’
‘Perhaps I already have.’
Archie muttered the words so quietly to himself that Luke barely caught them. He wanted to press his friend for particulars. If Archie had met a suitable woman—a woman whom he could actually introduce to his father without fear of condemnation—then Luke would very much like to know her name. The marquess was an even greater stickler about maintaining standards than Luke’s own father had been, and only a female from the top echelons of society would match up to his exacting requirements.
But something held Luke back and he asked no questions. Archie had been a complex, highly intelligent, fun-loving character even before his accident. Now his life was even more complicated, despite the fact that his options were severely restricted by his incapacity. If Archie had found a suitable woman willing to take him on, then he would tell them about her when he was good and ready.
And not a moment before.
‘Come along then,’ Luke said, glancing out the window and seeing Archie’s carriage at the front steps. ‘You’re keeping your horses standing about.’
Luke and Paul walked out with Archie, with Romulus keeping pace alongside. They shook hands again and watched as Archie’s man helped him into the conveyance.
‘Tell her thank you,’ Archie shouted, lowering the window and waving a bottle in the air as the carriage moved off.
‘What the devil did he mean by that?’ Paul asked, sharing a mystified look with Luke.
‘I don’t have the first idea,’ Luke replied. ‘But knowing Archie, he’s up to something.’
Chapter Five
‘Thank you.’
Flora smiled at the countess’s maid as she laid out a light luncheon for herself and her charge to enjoy. Flora helped the old lady to move to the table beneath the window and served her with cold cuts and fresh bread with the crusts carefully removed. A pot of the hot chocolate that the countess favoured had also been supplied and Flora poured a cup for each of them.
‘You have a good appetite,’ the countess said, watching Flora help herself to a slice of veal pie.
Flora wiped her lips on her napkin and grinned. ‘I went riding instead of taking breakfast,’ she admitted.
‘Well, if you young gels will go gallivanting around at ungodly hours.’ She flapped a hand, sending crumbs flying over the floor. Zeus, the countess’s unsociable white cat, stirred himself from in front of the fire to inspect the spill. Finding it beneath his notice, he mewed indignantly, swished his tail and returned to his slumbers. ‘In my day it was considered unfashion for a young woman to leave her bed before midday.’
‘Then it’s just as well that the women in question were not required to work for a living. I wouldn’t be much use to you if I idled my mornings away in my bed, and would soon find myself unemployed. Besides,’ Flora added, stirring her chocolate, ‘I like the quiet of the early mornings. Watching the sun rise is a spiritual experience.’
The countess grunted. ‘I expect you became accustomed to rising before dawn in order to pray for redemption, or some such nonsense.’
Flora bit back a mischievous smile. ‘One can lead a horse to water, your ladyship…’
The countess toyed with her food, finding fault in every line of conversation that Flora attempted. It was clear that she was very tired and as soon as she pushed her plate aside, Flora summoned Sandwell. It took little persuading to convince the old lady that she needed more rest.
Flora left her to Sandwell’s care and was then at leisure. She wandered downstairs, wondering if Louise would make good on her intention to call or whether, in the cold light of day, she would have had a change of heart. She harboured misgivings in view of Remus’s warning, but since the countess had specifically asked her to try and help the girl, Flora would do whatever she could for her.
Ensconced in the small parlour that overlooked the front drive, the sound of wheels on gravel distracted Flora from her book. She glanced out of the window and saw Louise alighting from her grandmother’s carriage. Flora snatched up the tailored coat that matched her gown, followed Luke’s example by going hatless, and emerged on the front steps to greet her new friend before she had finished ascending them.
‘I saw you arriving,’ she said by way of explanation. ‘Would you like to come in for refreshments or would you prefer to walk? It’s a crisp day and the grounds are so pretty at this time of the year.’
‘Oh, let’s walk, by all means. The trees are magnificent with their rainbow of colours. I loved the London parks in autumn, but that’s not quite the same thing. I would enjoy doing a circuit of the lake.’
‘Then we shall.’
Flora linked her arm through Louise’s and the two of them set off at a leisurely pace. Gardeners raking leaves from the lawns paused in their efforts to doff their caps as the girls passed.
‘You are very fortunate to live here and have all this at your disposal.’ Louise waved her free arm in a wide arc. ‘I envy you in that respect.’
‘And yet I am told you are a lady of fortune who enjoys the freedom to please herself, so one assumes that a country life could be yours. Then again, perhaps you prefer the social hustle and bustle of London society.’
‘I do…well, I did.’ Louise bit her lip. ‘I have never lived anywhere else, so I had nothing to compare it to and had not given the type of thought to my future that you imply.’ She lifted one shoulder. ‘I have been focused upon preparing for presentation since the age of fifteen and suppose I just assumed that I would marry and that my husband would decide upon our living arrangements.’
‘Well of course that is what you thought. You are a lady of fortune and quality and deserve to be admired and pursued. That is what’s expected of you.’ Flora smiled. ‘Unlike me, you do not require paid employment.’
‘But your position here offers you a degree of independence, in its way, that I could never enjoy.’
‘True.’ Flora conceded the point with a tilt of her head. ‘I hadn’t lived anywhere other than Salisbury, within the confines of the cathedral, before taking this position.’ She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Don’t tell anyone, but this is much nicer. I am treated as a member of the family, my opinions are sought and respected, I like and admire the countess very much and my duties are far from arduous. I am very fortunate.’
‘I can quite understand why you are happy here, especially given what you came from.’ Louise clapped a gloved hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, excuse me, that sounded very impolite.’
‘Not in the least.’ Flora smiled, hoping that her own candidness would persuade Louise to set aside the inhibitions she sensed her fighting against. ‘You are actually very astute.’
‘What I meant to imply is that it must have been very restricting for a lady of your exuberant nature to be restrained from expressing opinions that might not coincide with the Christian tenets held dear by a stringent father.’
Flora laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘You have no idea.’
‘I can imagine well enough.’
The ladies had reached the path that skirted the lake and strolled along it at a leisurely pace. Louise exclaimed every so often at some natural delight that Flora had begun to take for granted. A cool breeze rustled through the reeds and rippled the surface of the lake. A curlew stood in the shallows, searching the mud for worms with its long bill. It gave the ladies an imperious stare then took to the skies with a loud clatter of wings and an indignant squawk.
‘There is a bench at the far end of the lake that’s sheltered from the wind,’ Flora said when Louise shivered. ‘We can talk there without fear of interruption.’
‘I hope I am not keeping you from your duties.’
‘Not in the least. The countess is resting and won’t need me for several hours.’
A Sense of Injustice (Perceptions Book 4) Page 7