Florence’s Stupendous Spinster’s Society

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Florence’s Stupendous Spinster’s Society Page 11

by Charlotte Stone


  London. Everything would be better in London.

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  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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  “Where’d he get this?” Julius picked up the curved sword from the wall and uncovered its blade from its wooden home. Rollo tapped his fingers on his chair arm. “It’s a katana.”

  The metal caught the light from outside the window, casting the white light wherever Julius turned the object, giving the office a small portion of added light. Otherwise, the only other light came from the windows.

  William walked across the room to pull down another sword of the same kind, the steel singing a high note as it left its sheath. “Katana,” he said as though trying the word out for himself. “Sounds Japanese.”

  “It is,” Rollo told him.

  They’d arrived at Dixon, which was Rollo’s family estate, quicker than he’d realized they would, the journey south only taking them three days. London was still many days’ journey ahead, but at the moment, Rollo was in no hurry. What he needed were answers.

  Julius spun his blade in the air and grinned at William. “It looks old. Is it?”

  “Maybe.” Rollo didn’t know.

  “Expensive?” William asked before pointing its end in Julius’ direction.

  “I wouldn’t know.” And that seemed to be his problem. Rollo hadn’t cared about half the treasures in his father home, never asking much about their history or which lord his father had won it from. Like Julius and William, all he’d seen was their beauty, something to either be admired or played with. It had been that way since they’d been boys, each of them taking turns to host a party during the summer months and while Francis’ home had been known for the abundant love of his parents and Morris’ castle known as the best hunting ground, Rollo’s friends had enjoyed something else. King Kerry had a treasure trove of sorts, and Rollo had done nothing to understand a single object until Florence had brought his lack of knowledge to attention.

  Rollo glanced at the ring on his hand as the ringing of blades kissing rang in his office. The grunts and laughter of his friends rolled off him as he thought about what history lay behind the ring. The best person to bring along if he’d wanted to categorize anything Greek that laid in the home would have been Emmett, who was a collector of anything from ancient Rome. Emmett, who’d not been allowed to join in on the summer parties until after his father’s death, had been to Dixon with his father a time or two about business matters. During those visits, Rollo and Emmett had snuck away, and Rollo had shown his friend the halls of riches. Emmett’s first collected item had come from Rollo’s father, a gift that came with no strings attached. It was the gift that had set Emmett off and made him into a fine collector, an activity the old Earl of Ashwick had approved.

  For a moment, he wondered if his careless search for hidden answers from the items came from his father. His father hadn’t been a collector of anything but debts, the items being nothing more than forms of settled debts.

  Now that his father was missing, they meant more.

  A gasp made him look up as his butler approached, his eyes rounding as he glanced between Julius and William. Somewhere between the moment their fight began and just now, they’d both removed their jackets. Their hair was windswept, and sweat glittered on their smiling faces.

  Rollo smiled at them and watched as Matthew Caney came into view. He took one look at Julius and William and barely managed to not roll his eyes.

  “Those swords were made nearly ten centuries ago and most likely used in a war.”

  Julius locked eyes with William before looking down at the priceless artifact in his hands. “Capital!”

  William nodded his head in agreement and crouched low as though he planned to begin fighting once more. Julius was not far behind, his stance readied.

  Caney made a move to walk between the two men, but at the last second, Julius shot out his sword, blocking the man’s path.

  Caney flinched, his gray eyes flashing with surprise.

  Julius narrowed his own. “One must bow before approaching King Kerry.”

  That time, Caney did roll his eyes.

  William broke into laughter that made him fall, blade in hand.

  Rollo bit his lower lip to keep his own laughter from escaping. Over the years, more than one trick had been pulled on Mr. Caney, most of those tricks being led by Julius, who in private called him Mr. Cranky. The two held a love-hate relationship that seemed to go back more than a decade.

  “Step aside, Lord Darvess.” Mr. Caney was tall and built lean with gray hair to match his steel-colored eyes. He was also very stern. How he and Rollo’s father, who’d always been more Gypsy than gentleman, had become friends, Rollo would never know. “Out of my way,” he said in the way he had plenty of times in the past.

  However, Julius, as Mr. Craney should have known, did the opposite and closed in on the man. “All must bow before the king.” The humor had died from his eyes and thus the rest of the room. It was clear that the boy Julius had been years ago was gone, and unlike many gentlemen, he hadn’t just matured in the way all men did, but circumstances and situations had forced him to change.

  Caney’s eyes flickered to Rollo as if in desperation, as though he knew Julius capable of doing something dark and final.

  Rollo stood. “Put the sword down, Julius.”

  Julius’ katana was snapped to his side before he glanced over at Rollo with a passive expression. “As you wish, King Kerry.” He bowed.

  William started to laugh again, the air cooling.

  Rollo sighed and walked over and greeted Caney with warmth. Since his father’s death, Matthew Caney had stepped in to help where he could. He currently oversaw the family’s oil business and estates, helping Rollo to understand his father’s vast fortune, though business had never been forefront in King Kerry’s mind.

  Caney moved away from Julius as if fearing the katana to be lifted again. “You should put those back on the wall… my lord.”

  Julius tilted his head and opened his mouth in a way that Rollo knew would end with a smart reply.

  “Put the blades back.” Rollo led Caney over to the desk before taking a seat.

  “What is this about?” Caney asked. He was all business as he folded into the chair, the cut of his suit just as severe as his mannerism.

  Julius and William left the room with the butler with Julius throwing one more unpleasant look at Caney before closing the door. They knew why they were here and while Rollo shared most matters with them, he needed to speak to Caney alone.

  Rollo held up his hand to show him the ring. “Do you remember when I found this?”

  Caney’s eyes moved to the ring and settled there. “Yes, I remember.”

  “You said you hadn’t known my father possessed such an item, but it was in his belongings. You said it was most likely Greek.”

  The other man’s eyes moved back to Rollo. “It is, isn’t it?”

  Rollo frowned. “I was told it was Egyptian.”

  Caney’s eyes widened. “By whom?”

  “A… woman.” He feared saying the information had come from a lady’s maid, believing Caney would cease to take the matter seriously. “She was very knowledgeable. She knew what period my coin was from.”

  “A common piece,” Caney said.

  “She said the same.” Rollo lowered his hand. “I’m thinking to extend the search for my parents to Egypt. Surely someone would recall seeing an eccentric British couple.”

  “The British have been in Egypt since Napoleon thought to interfere with English trade in India.” Caney shook his head. “There’s no point. Your parents did not travel to Egypt. If they had, your father would have told me.”

  “My father rarely told anyone his plans besides my mother.”

  Caney stood. “You’d be wasting your time, but do as yo
u wish. Those two countries have an entire sea separating them.”

  Rollo knew he was right but didn’t wish to face the truth of it. His parents, wherever they were, were probably no longer breathing, yet if they were, why would it matter?

  That was the thought that tugged at his heart, a burning sensation that seemed to spread through his chest. Would they have truly left him behind? His father, for all his wealth, had not been welcomed into his mother’s family, but there’d been no stopping them. They’d wed and bore Rollo but never another child though Rollo had begged. He’d wanted a brother, had even thought he’d enjoy a sister after meeting Lorena, but his parents had decided he would do better away at a school, only to return during holidays and when they wished to show him off.

  But moments of his past fluttered through his mind, days when he’d seen them look at him and knew they loved him, moments when there’d been no one watching to force them to pretend affection. He had been loved.

  A hand settled on his shoulder.

  Rollo looked up at Caney.

  “If you wish it, I’ll look into Egypt for you.” The pity in Caney’s eyes made Rollo stand.

  “Thank you, but I’ll do it myself.”

  “Very well. Now, I must get back to the offices. We’ll speak again soon, I hope?”

  “Of course.”

  The door opened and closed behind him and loneliness settled into the room. He rested his hand against the wall to keep himself upright, the green wallpaper cold underneath his fingers. He stared at his father’s ring. Lucky? He had no luck.

  A moment later, it opened again.

  “What did Mr. Cranky have to say?” Julius walked over and when Rollo turned away, he found his shoulder pushed and Julius in his face.

  “I wish you wouldn’t test the man that way.” He tried to change the subject and ignore the hole of doubt building inside him.

  Julius grunted, his eyes hard as amethysts. “I never cared for him. He needs to remember his place.”

  Rollo flinched. “I never knew you to lord yourself around.”

  “Not me. You.” Julius stabbed in him the chest with a finger. “It’s your father’s holdings the man oversees. You pay his salary, whether he likes to admit it or not. Stop allowing him to treat you like a child.”

  Rollo paced away. “I’ve not been very active where it concerned the family’s interests, just as my father before me.”

  William stood behind him with watchful dark blue eyes. “You should change that, especially considering what happened to Francis.” How could anyone forget Francis’ plight? A plight that had been given to him by his own father after the man had made a bad investment that would ruin the family. Their only hope had been Francis, who’d borrowed the money from the Earl of Buckley, Genie’s father. But Buckley had been the mastermind from the beginning. He’d set Francis up, making him swear to pay off a great fortune before he could ever show his interest in her. It had been an amount of money that would have taken the brotherhood nearly a decade to pay off. Thankfully, Francis had discovered his father hadn’t invested poorly. The money that they’d thought vanished had, in fact, proven to buy controlling shares of one of London’s most prominent trading companies.

  Rollo barely had time to process his thoughts before William spoke again. “What happened?” The questioned triggered his mind to return to the dark place it had just sought freedom from.

  Rollo shook his head. “Nothing. Just the same. Looking for two people who don’t wish to be found is pointless.”

  No one said anything because the options that Rollo faced were two that he didn’t like. Either his parents hadn’t returned because they didn’t want to, or they were dead. It was a coin toss that he never gave into, both sides holding a terrible outcome. He couldn’t see a way out. Pain burned its hold through him and settled in his gut.

  “Let’s go to London,” William said. “You’ll feel better there.”

  “No.” Rollo didn’t wish to be around the rest of their friends at the moment. It was an ugly thought but being around their happiness would not soothe him, not while the pain had him this firmly in his grasp. He’d be no more than a dark cloud over the happy couples, set to start their lives that would be full of love and hope while Rollo was void of such emotions. Instead, his vessel was currently overflowing with the worst sort of emotions. “You go. I’ll join you in a matter of days.” He fell back into his chair and covered his face with his hands.

  “We’ll not leave you,” Julius said.

  Rollo shook his head. “No, really. I’m not the best of company.”

  A hand settled on his shoulder. “We wouldn’t let you come by yourself,” William said. “And we’re not leaving you behind.” The words sounded like the sort that William would have spoken during his military days.

  But the words weren’t completely military. In them were words of the brotherhood, oaths that no katana could break, made by men who were even more unbreakable when one of their own was in need.

  Rollo accepted their choice and was almost jealous that they had it, free to make any option they wished while Rollo was stuck.

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  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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  Florence knocked before entering her mother’s room. In the hushed lamplight, she smiled as her mother’s blue eyes settled on her and widened before tears filled their depths. By the bedside sat Mrs. Sally Dennis, her mother’s greatest friend, looking just as stunned. She’d been gone for half a year, and though they’d shared letters, she was just as glad to see them as they seemed at seeing her.

  She walked across the room and leaned over to give her mother a hug and kiss on the cheek. “How are you, Mama?”

  Teresa’s thin frame proved it still held great strength as she squeezed Florence. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Florence pulled away and quickly gave a hug to Mrs. Dennis before turning to her mama once more. “You seem well.”

  Her mother smiled brightly. “Florence, I am. I’m getting better. I was up all day. I’ve only just gotten into bed to rest.” It was late evening and though Teresa’s mother had mentioned her improved health in her letters, she was still surprised to see it for herself. When she looked at her mother, she could see that her color was better. No longer did it hold a gray tint, and her eyes seemed clear. Dark hair was pulled into a bun on her head as though she had, in fact, spent the day out of bed.

  While Florence had inherited her mother’s fine bone structure, their coloring was different. Florence’s tawny eyes and hair, a burnt blond that glittered, were the stamp of her Crew blood. She’d been told that her father, Simon Crew, declared her his own at first glance… just as he’d done with the many other children he’d sired.

  She turned her mind back to the woman who’d raised her and was surprised. “This is a miracle.”

  Teresa nodded. “Every day I feel stronger, thanks to the medicine that Dr. Handford gave me.” Dr. Handford was a kind man who worked at St. Ambrose, an old church that had been changed into a hospital nearly a century ago. Hanford had been seeing to her mother’s care and though a less expensive doctor might have done well, Florence had used all her coins to get her mother the best she could. She’d don a stocking a hundred times before buying a new one and thanked heaven that her uniforms had been done in a simple black and of a coarse material that she could easily keep well maintained.

  Nothing was more important to her than her mother. She’d barely taken time to place her belongings away in the room she kept at Lord Nolwell’s house before coming to see her.

  “We’re out of the medicine though,” Mrs. Dennis said. She was a round woman with bright blue eyes and blond hair.

  Florence smiled at her. “I’ll go see the doctor tomorrow. Thank you for caring for her.”

  Dennis waved her off. “She’s my g
reatest friend. I’d have done it even if you hadn’t asked.”

  Florence kissed Mrs. Dennis’ cheek and stood. “I’ll tell you all about my trip tomorrow, but for now, you should get your rest.”

  Once she saw to her mother for a moment more, she left the room and Mrs. Dennis followed, holding out a note. “Your sister wanted me to give this to you the moment you arrived.”

  Florence took the note and frowned. “Does Mama know?”

  Mrs. Dennis shook her head. “You know she wouldn’t approve even if this was how she’d managed to stay alive for so long.”

  Mrs. Dennis was right. Her mother wouldn’t understand the lengths Florence had gone to see to her mother’s care. A lady’s maid’s salary would never be enough to care for her mother, the house, and every bill that came with it.

  She opened the letter and smiled. Then she looked at Mrs. Dennis. “Thank you. I’ll head there immediately.”

  Mrs. Dennis waved her away, and Florence walked down the road and kept to herself but listened to the noises of the night that seemed to pour from the alleys and beyond. In the light of day, she had no worries since most of the people around her knew her, but in the evening, it was always best to keep her steps sure and move quickly to avoid being targeted for crime. Finally, she came to an area where she could find a hack and used some of the precious coin she had left to get to Covent Gardens, a place that even she didn’t dare walk around at night. Covent Garden, for all its theatres and entertainment, was known for one particular pleasure more than the rest: its prostitutes. Florence had seen women have the fend off men who thought they might lift her skirts for a shilling or two. Thankfully, Florence hadn’t had any such occasions present themselves to her and would ensure that it didn’t happen.

 

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