A Sense of Injustice (Perceptions Book 4)

by Wendy Soliman

Go away! Flora chided inside her head.

  Well, if that’s all the thanks I get.

  His image faded but Luke continued to look at her with a tormented expression. Before she fully understood his intentions, he lowered his head and placed his lips over hers with heart-stopping precision. It was too much!

  It was nowhere near enough.

  Flora gave up on her battle to remain in control. It was a fight she never would have won, not when Luke was in the mood to take matters into his own hands. Her arms worked their way around his neck and she returned his kiss with fervour. Lingering thoughts of escape evaporated beneath the soft persuasion of his mouth. She tasted wine on his tongue and desire on his breath, and wanted the moment to last forever.

  But it didn’t. A small cry of protest slipped past her guard when he released her but kept one arm around her waist, correctly assuming that her legs would likely not support her immediately. He sent her a deeply intense look and then turned his head away.

  ‘Do you intend to marry Archie?’ he asked, an edge to his voice.

  ‘Lord Hardwick?’ Flora didn’t attempt to hide her surprise at the question. ‘Good heavens no. We have already had this conversation.’

  ‘He proposed to you.’

  ‘He was not serious.’ She touched his arm when he still wouldn’t look at her. ‘Luke, what is it?’

  ‘Paul thinks that Archie was serious. You like him, that much is obvious, so…’

  ‘Yes, I like him. I also feel sorry for him and find him endlessly amusing. But I don’t think of him that way. Surprising though it might seem to you after…well, after what just happened between us, I do know my place and don’t aspire to a marriage above my station. Or any marriage at all, for that matter. I am perfectly content with the way things are.’

  ‘I’m so glad,’ Luke said with the softest of smiles and relief in his eyes. ‘Anyway, let’s get you back to Beranger Court before you cause any more mayhem—’

  ‘Me! What did I do?’

  He took her arm and led her from the barn, pausing to pick up her hat from where it had fallen on the ground outside. He brushed it down and handed it to her. With a wry smile, she twisted her hair back up and plonked her hat over the resulting untidy mess. Luke placed his hands on her waist and lifted her into Amethyst’s saddle. He waited until she was settled and had taken up the reins, then swung onto Onyx’s back. Romulus, who had given the impression of being sound asleep just moments before, sprang into action, wagging his tail, ready to run for the rest of the day if necessary.

  ‘When shall you call upon the squire?’ Flora asked, thinking it important to establish a more normal line of communication between them after their anything but normal interlude in the barn.

  ‘Now. As soon as I have seen you safely home.’

  ‘I wish I could be there to see Felicity’s face,’ Flora replied with an impish smile.

  ‘I don’t want you anywhere near the woman. You are perfectly capable of finding your own trouble without involving yourself in hers.’

  ‘You are very unkind. I try to help people and that’s all the thanks I get. If you want to blame anyone, it should be your grandmother. She asked me to help Louise. She is very sensitive, you know, despite the trouble she takes to appear otherwise.’

  Luke laughed as he pushed Onyx into a canter. Amethyst loped after him and they crossed the lower meadow to Luke’s estate at a brisk pace.

  ‘I will leave you here,’ Luke said, when they drew rein at the end of the path that led to the stables. ‘Even you cannot get into trouble between here and the house.’ He tipped his hat to her. ‘Until later. I will come and find you and let you know how it goes. I am aware that you will be alive with curiosity.’

  ‘How thoughtful,’ she said with a sweet smile. ‘Good afternoon to you, my lord.’

  He muttered something about disrespectful, impertinent females, turned Onyx and cantered away from her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Luke had absolutely no idea what had possessed him to kiss Flora. No, that wasn’t exactly true. His motivation was crystal clear to him. He had been suppressing the desire to do so since first stealing a kiss not long after she came into his employ and used her supposed supernatural powers to save him from a highly unsuitable marriage. He had convinced himself that his actions had resulted from relief at his lucky escape and would never be repeated. It would give her entirely the wrong idea and engender expectations he was not in a position to fulfil.

  However much he might sometimes wish that he could.

  He pushed Onyx into a gallop, wondering if speed would clear his head of the inappropriate thoughts that were constantly working their way past his guard, especially at times when Flora’s actions caused him to wonder if she did actually possess some sort of supernatural power. She had certainly bewitched him. It concerned him that Paul had noticed his partiality for her. Presumably that was why he’d mentioned Archie’s desire to marry her.

  ‘Damn and blast!’

  He leaned forward and put Onyx on a short rein as they approached an unusually high hedge. He felt the powerful horse gather his quarters beneath him as he launched himself from the ground and cleared the obstacle with ease. Luke, aware of his responsibilities, wouldn’t normally have risked jumping such a challenging barrier, but he was in a reckless mood and didn’t much care if he came a cropper.

  He’d assumed the earldom far earlier than he had expected to, and had been obliged to put the rash behaviour of his youth behind him and take his responsibility for those who depended upon him more seriously. The same clearly could not be said for Archie who, in spite of his physical impediments, still appeared to put his own pleasures first. It was a measure of Luke’s annoyance with himself that he momentarily resented his closest friend’s laissez faire attitude to life. An attitude that had cost him a very great deal.

  ‘Damn it, Onyx!’ he said, for no particular reason other than that he felt the need to say something out loud, secure in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be overheard by anyone other than his horse, whose discretion was assured. He reined his stallion in and waited for Romulus to come barging through a gap in the hedge, tongue lolling, tailing spiralling, mud splattered across his belly.

  Feeling slightly less resentful about a privileged situation that the majority of men would give their eye-teeth to assume, Luke pushed Onyx forward into a sedate walk. Most of those same men, he reasoned, would forget about family traditions and binding promises made to dead fathers, and would instead do as they damned well pleased when it came to securing their futures. That was the trouble with having scruples, Luke decided. If he followed his heart, he would spend the rest of his life battling with a guilty conscience. He didn’t believe in the hereafter, and he didn’t believe that Flora could communicate with the dead or whatever it was she seemed convinced she could do, so no one would know if he didn’t keep his word.

  No one other than him. He had never once in his entire life given his word and then deliberately broken it.

  And he did not intend to start now.

  A sudden gust of wind had Luke reaching for his hat. Besides, there was his grandmother’s feelings to take into consideration, he reminded himself. Despite her outlandish behaviour and grossly exaggerated tales of youthful misdeeds designed to shock and entertain, she was at heart a stickler for tradition and for maintaining the family’s high standing within the ranks of the aristocracy—a rarefied and exclusive enclave. She was very fond of Flora, but would not thank Luke if he lowered the tone by making a mere parson’s daughter his countess.

  His disgruntled speculations brought him close to the squire’s house, by which time he had stopped feeling sorry for himself and managed to focus his mind on the difficult interview in prospect. He was absolutely sure that Exton knew nothing whatsoever about his niece’s machinations. He was a proud man and would be devastated by what Luke had to tell him.

  Despite his consideration for the older man’s feelings, Luke knew that he co
uldn’t hold back. Mrs Brigstock was clever and manipulative as well as being one of Exton’s two remaining relatives. Blood was thicker than water, but if Luke left Exton in one iota of doubt about her character she would use that situation to her advantage and somehow manage to convince her uncle that Luke had got it wrong. Luke was required to work closely with Exton when it came to keeping the peace in the Swindon area. He liked and respected the squire and had no intention of permitting a scheming hussy to put cracks into their relationship.

  He surrendered Onyx to Exton’s groom who ran up to take his reins when he saw Luke approaching. Luke thanked him and told Romulus to wait in the stables whilst he himself was admitted to the house by Exton’s butler.

  ‘I will inform the master of your arrival, my lord,’ he said, taking Luke’s hat and gloves, ‘if you would be good enough to wait in the drawing room.’

  Luke entered the room in question with a degree of trepidation, worried that one or both of Exton’s nieces would be in occupation of it. Happily, it was devoid of human presence, but Luke barely had time to warm his hands in front of the fire, glance with mild unconcern at his mud-splattered boots and run a careless hand through tangled hair that had been flattened by his hat before Exton joined him.

  ‘An unexpected pleasure, my lord,’ he said, hand outstretched.

  ‘I hope you will still feel that way when you hear what I have come to tell you,’ Luke replied, grimacing as he shook Exton’s hand.

  ‘Oh dear.’ Exton frowned. ‘Trouble in Swindon that I need to be made aware of? I have not heard of anything untoward but…’

  ‘Something of a more personal nature, I regret to say.’

  Exton eyed Luke with wary speculation. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Is there somewhere we can talk in absolute privacy? The matter is delicate.’

  ‘My nieces are both out paying calls, but I suppose they could return at any moment. Be so good as to join me in my library. We will be assured of privacy there.’

  Luke clapped Exton’s shoulder and followed the older man into his private domain. He declined Exton’s offer of refreshments, Exton waved his butler away and the man withdrew, closing the door quietly behind him. The men took seats on either side of the fire and Exton looked across at Luke with an expression of polite enquiry.

  ‘There’s no easy way to say this, Exton,’ Luke said, scratching the back of his neck, ‘and so I shall simply come straight out with it and tell you what I know. I apologise in advance if it upsets you, which it is bound to do. I hope we have always been friends and that I can speak without fear of giving offence.’

  Exton gave a hesitant nod. ‘I hope so too, but I confess your grim expression is making me uncomfortable. Please, my lord, simply say whatever you have come to say. It cannot possibly be that bad.’

  ‘It concerns your niece—’

  ‘Lydia?’ Exton’s brow cracked like a crumbling conscience. ‘I have already spoken to you about her, and indeed to the girl herself. She has not, I hope, gone against my most stern instructions and caused embarrassment for you?’

  ‘I am not referring to Miss Gregory, but to Mrs Brigstock.’

  ‘Ah!’ The fleshy cheeks beneath Exton’s grey whiskers turned a deep shade of pink. He clearly believed her capable of causing whatever difficulties that had brought Luke to his door, fractionally easing Luke’s anxiety. ‘It is she who has been making trouble for you? I am very sorry. She can be a wilful child but since she has been married, her widowed status affords her a degree of latitude that prevents me from placing the same restrictions upon her movements as I do upon her sister’s. I thought she knew how to behave, but obviously I have given her too much credit.’ Exton suddenly looked weary and every one of his sixty-something years. ‘Please tell me what she has done to offend you and I shall ensure that offence is not repeated.’

  Luke felt increasingly uncomfortable and a little concerned for the squire’s health, but he had no choice but to lay out what he knew about Mrs Brigstock and Cleethorp in clinical detail. When he ran out of words, Exton’s hands were trembling and the colour Luke had noticed peeping through his whiskers earlier had drained from his face. Luke stood, poured a generous measure of brandy from the decanter on the sideboard and forced the glass into Exton’s unsteady hand.

  ‘Here, drink this. You’ve had a terrible shock, for which I apologise. I should have found a way to break the news to you more gently.’

  ‘There was no way that you could have softened the blow.’ Exton took a large swallow of his drink. ‘To say that I am shocked and deeply disturbed would be putting it mildly. Felicity, as I said earlier, has always been a little wild. My dear widowed sister, dead now these past few years, grew increasingly incapable of controlling her. When Brigstock offered for her, my sister was delighted and frankly a little relieved. I advised against the match. He was far too old for her and it was obvious to anyone with eyes in their head that she was only interested in his money, but I was not listened to.’ Exton took another sip of his brandy and fixed Luke with a look of nervous confusion. ‘Are you absolutely sure that she was instrumental in her husband’s death? I have always known her to be ambitious, but I didn’t imagine in my wildest dreams that she could be so wicked.’

  ‘There is no doubt, I’m afraid. I just now confronted Cleethorp. He didn’t condemn himself by admitting to spooking Brigstock’s horse, but he didn’t deny it outright either, as he surely would have had he been innocent.’ Exton gave a grim nod of agreement. ‘We know he was staying in the local tavern at the time of the incident.’

  ‘Ah.’ Brigstock’s shoulders sagged and he appeared to age ten years before Luke’s eyes. To such a principled man, Luke was worried that the shock and potential scandal might do for him. He wished he could have avoided telling him, but reminded himself that he was not the person directly responsible for causing him so much anguish.

  I’m afraid your niece had Cleethorp wrapped around her little finger, and he would do anything she asked of him. But he must take his share of the blame. She assured him that with Brigstock out of the way, they would be able to live in comfort on her inheritance. Brigstock got wind of her machinations and exacted revenge by giving most of his blunt away before his death.’

  Exton managed a chuckle completely devoid of humour. ‘Brigstock’s revenge would be admirable, had it not cost him his life. He would not have anticipated that, I am perfectly sure. Felicity told me after his death that he had not been as wealthy as she had supposed and that there were some hitches in the settlement of his estate. According to her, that was why she had been reduced to renting a small cottage on the outskirts of London and why she had asked me to take Lydia in for a prolonged visit. She had stayed with Felicity and Brigstock before that, you see. Anyway, I agreed because I had little choice in the matter. The girls are my responsibility, God help me.’ He let out a protracted sigh. ‘I am too old to chaperone a young girl. I no longer understand their needs—if indeed I ever did. But I could hardly refuse. I gave Felicity a fairly substantial loan too—’

  ‘Which is probably how she managed to raise the rent for her current lodgings. She was left virtually penniless, you know.’

  Exton raised one white, bushy brow. ‘Are you absolutely sure?’

  ‘Perfectly so. I have spoken to Brigstock’s solicitors. There is no mistake.’

  ‘I believed what she told me. It never occurred to me that she would deliberately lie to me.’ Exton drained his glass, looking more upset that his niece had told him an outright lie than by anything else she had done. ‘The most shameful part of the entire affair, even more than her deliberately contriving the death of her husband, is her attempt to force Miss Pearson into a marriage with her paramour.’ Exton rested his forehead in his cupped hand and repeatedly shook his head, sending wisps of white hair flying round his bald pate. ‘It is beyond belief what that poor girl must have suffered. I am so very glad that you became involved, my lord, and saved her.’ He set his features in a
rigid line. ‘What happens now?’

  ‘Cleethorp is, as we speak, on the London train. I have told him that if he ever shows his face in Swindon again then news of his exploits with reach his brother’s ears.’ Exton nodded his approval. ‘Frankly, I think he was glad of an excuse to escape your niece. She has letters of a compromising nature that he wrote to her that ensured he continued to dance to her tune, even though he had started to see her for what she is.’

  ‘Well, that’s something. I suppose you couldn’t expose his role in Brigstock’s death because you have no actual proof.’

  ‘Correct. And, needless to say for the sake of Miss Pearson’s reputation, his involvement with her will have to remain absolutely secret.’

  ‘Of course. Goes without saying.’

  ‘So, the question remains, what shall you do about your niece? Frankly, I am not pleased with the thought of her remaining in Swindon. She won’t stay chastened for long, of that you can be assured, and will soon set her sights on another rich target. However, she is your problem, I’m pleased to say, not mine. She will never be invited to Beranger Court, although you will always be made welcome.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Exton inclined his head. ‘I am relieved to hear you say that you don’t blame me for this sorry state of affairs. I am guilty only of being old and gullible and believing what my niece told me.’

  ‘The possibility of your involvement did not once cross my mind. Your ethics are beyond reproach, which is why I realise this business will cause you a great deal of anguish.’

  ‘Felicity will not be allowed to remain here,’ Exton said with a heavy sigh. ‘I will confront her when she returns home and she will be gone on the morning train. Lydia will have to stay, I suppose. I don’t imagine she knows what her sister has been doing—and anyway, when she sees how severely I deal with Felicity’s misbehaviour it might make Lydia look to her own conduct.’ Exton rolled his eyes wearily. ‘One can but hope. I don’t suppose I shall see the return of my loan to Felicity, but I shall look upon it as a small price to pay if it absolves me of my duty towards her.’