by Rebecca King
“Where is he?”
“He has moved, ma’am,” the maid replied.
“Where to?”
“Downstairs, I think miss.” The maid stared at her.
“Downstairs?” Florrie gulped weakly. She spun on her heel and headed downstairs as fast as her feet could carry her.
Had they taken him somewhere else to recover? Had he died while she had been asleep and they had moved him somewhere to await burial?
She walked into the breakfast room and gasped in shock as her gaze landed on the one person she most wanted to see.
“Pie!” Delight suffused her face for a second as she stared at him. The urge to fly into his arms was so strong that she rocked on the balls of her feet for a moment, but she held back from giving him the hug she desperately wanted to give him; for both of them. She glanced at the men who were busy with their breakfast and struggled to know what to do.
“Hello, Florrie,” Pie murmured. It hurt to breathe but he was going to bloody well keep moving. Now that he had gotten out of bed, sheer grit and determination kept him from going back there until it was late at night, and the same time that everyone else was going to bed for the night. He ignored the burning in his ribs and slowly drew the chair out beside him. “Come and join us.”
She was stunned. When the maid had said he had moved, she expected him to be asleep in bed somewhere, or in a make-shift mortuary, not sitting in the breakfast room partaking of breakfast. The sight of him standing tall and strong; albeit battered and bruised, was wonderful. She struggled not to stare at him as she sat down at the table.
“I didn’t expect this,” she whispered in a voice that trembled with emotion.
Pie smiled sheepishly at her. “I may be battered and bruised, but I am not out yet.”
“Thank God for that,” she declared fervently before she could hold the words back.
“Amen to that,” Hugo drawled and lifted his cup in toast to her announcement.
She tentatively picked up a piece of toast and absently buttered it, but her attention; her entire being, was locked on the man beside her as he dug in to his eggs, bacon and ham pie. Tears loomed and her heart ached with the knowledge that he was safe and sound. Although he could never be hers, and the gulf between them was wider than ever before, she was so very glad that he was alive.
She choked through breakfast but couldn’t say what she had eaten. The conversation flowed around her but she was lost to anything but the thoughts and emotions swirling around in her head. She was snapped out of her daze at the mention of Portia and Archie’s wedding and turned her attention to Archie, who was suggesting that they postpone the wedding scheduled for tomorrow.
“Nonsense,” Pie drawled. “Everything has been planned around tomorrow so there is no reason for it not to go ahead.”
“But you are ill, Pie. There is still a lot of recovering you need to do. We don’t mind putting it back for a week while you get a bit steadier on your legs.”
Simon snorted and rolled his eyes. He threw Pie a teasing look. “He has never been steady on his feet.”
Pie guffawed and clutched his aching ribs. “I think it should go ahead as planned. I am sure Florrie won’t mind another wedding, will you?” He asked gently. He was so very glad to see her. She was a bit paler than he could remember but just having her next to him made his discomfort considerably more bearable. If only he knew what he had to do to keep her there.
“I am sure I can stay for one more,” she replied quietly, smiling at Archie. “Then I shall be able to head to Norfolk with a lot of tales to tell,” she added ruefully. “I am sure they will consider that I am making the whole lot up, but never mind.”
“You will have to find someone to go with you who can vouch for your honesty,” Pie murmured, resisting the urge to tuck a loose tendril of hair back behind her ear.
The sad smile that curved Florrie’s lips made him ache to be able to reassure her but he knew that now was not the right time, especially in front of everyone else. He couldn’t lose sight of the last time he had seen her and had sent her away from him. There was a lot he needed to explain but didn’t know where to start. He needed some time to himself to think about the best way to approach her.
One thing he did know was that if she insisted on going to Norfolk, he was going to be the one to take her there.
“Can I speak with you for a moment?” Pie asked, following Jamie out of the breakfast room an hour later. Florrie had already left, and had gone for a long awaited walk with Harriett and the children. It gave Pie the time he needed to put forward his proposition to Jamie.
“Anything,” Jamie said. He opened the door and preceded Pie into the old study. Glancing around him in disgust he shook his head. “I really must do something about this place.”
“It is a nice house,” Pie said, sniffing a little at the slightly unused fustiness of the place.
Jamie snorted. “I have been so damned busy with what’s been going on at Melvedere, Cecily and everything else that I forgot about this place. It has been mothballed for years. I don’t have any use for the place now and aren’t likely to have in the future.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about.” Pie replied taking the proffered brandy from Jamie with a smile of thanks.
Jamie sat down and watched his friend patiently. Whatever it was that Pie wanted to know, or ask, Jamie knew that it had something to do with Florrie. He didn’t need to glance over his shoulder to know that Florrie was walking past the window with Harriett. The look of adoration on Pie’s face was clear to see. Jamie knew what the man was going through because he had been through similar with his new wife.
He waited for a minute or two; long enough for Florrie to have moved passed the window and coughed to recapture Pie’s attention. He lifted his brows and grinned when Pie smiled sheepishly at him.
“Go on then, what do you have to ask me?” Jamie wondered what he was going to say to his best friend and colleague if the man asked for permission to ask Florrie for her hand in marriage. Jamie wasn’t her guardian, and had no influence over Florrie’s decisions. Still, with the determined look on Pie’s face, there was something he needed Jamie’s advice on and, after the worry of the past few days, Jamie knew that there was little he would deny his friend.
The following day, Florrie wandered aimlessly around the gardens, but her attention was focused firmly on the man inside the house. It was shocking to see how quickly he had begun to make a recovery from his ordeal at the hands of the Frenchman. From the dark colouring of his skin it was evident that he must be in considerable discomfort, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from the way he had tucked in to the ham pie, eggs, bacon, toast and cheese at breakfast. The amount of food he had tucked away had been amazing but had reaffirmed to everyone that he was getting better. She had struggled not to stare at him across the table while she had choked down her own meagre feast.
She had only seen Pie at breakfast yesterday. Sometime after his meeting with Jamie, he had gone back to bed to sleep and had partaken of dinner on a tray in his room with Archie and Simon. A part of her longed to be able to sit and share a meal with him too, but she daren’t go to his room. He had already made his feelings clear. She wasn’t going to force herself on him; not when he was recovering and especially after what had happened.
She wandered back into the main hall and sighed at the chaos that immediately surrounded her. Today was the day of Portia and Archie’s wedding. Maids were running up and down the stairs, fetching and carrying things as everyone prepared for the wedding that was due to be held in only a few short hours. She had learned at breakfast that Pie had handed over his groomsman duties over to Simon, purely because he didn’t think he could stand upright for as long as was needed for the service. Florrie could only sympathise with him.
Taking a breath, she stood back as yet another maid scurried past and briefly wondered whether she should offer to help, or find a nice quiet corner somewhere to wait until it was time
to go. The decision was taken out of her hands.
“Ready?” Pie whispered directly into her ear.
Despite his injuries, Pie was determined to make the short trip to the church and attend the service along with everyone else. He was looking forward to being able to escort Florrie down the aisle. Although she didn’t know it yet, it would be a dry-run for their own big day. He only hoped that he could persuade her to stick around long enough to allow the day to happen.
His conversation with Jamie had gone better than he had hoped and Jamie had almost eagerly taken on arranging the legalities of Pie’s suggestion. All was going well – for now at least.
Next, all he had to do was try and get a few moments alone with Florrie.
Florrie jumped and spun around. She was immediately swamped with love that was so strong, she visibly trembled with the need to reach out and touch him. “I didn’t hear you creep up on me.”
Pie smiled gently at her. “I am afraid that I have to leave a little earlier than everyone else,” he explained, holding out his arm to her. “I wondered if you would care to walk with me. I am not sure that I can make it on my own.”
Florrie stared at him for a moment and felt a wave of guilt sweep through her. It firmly quashed any objection she might have made.
After all he wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t for her, she mused. Walking with him to the church was the least she could do. It would seem churlish if she refused. She took his arm but glanced at him doubtfully.
“Are you not going to go in a carriage?” It was an awfully long way for an injured man to go on foot.
Pie shook his head ruefully. “Even if I could get into the carriage, which I doubt, the rocking and swaying will be too uncomfortable, so it is better that I walk. If I take it slowly, I am sure that I can manage it.” He fought to keep the wolfish smile off his face when she tentatively took his arm and waited for him to shuffle into motion.
Pie studiously ignored Hugo, who rolled his eyes at the spectacle and winked at Jamie who was standing to one side of the front door.
Much to Pie’s satisfaction, Operation Florrie had begun.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Although he was playing on the severity of his injuries a little, the sight of the long driveway before them made Pie grit his teeth with determination. He was still struggling with the discomfort in his ribs, but refused to take that wretched laudanum because it made his thoughts too muddled. He was determined to make the walk with Florrie on his arm and, if he had to sit through another wedding, he wanted it to be with Florrie by his side.
A small part of him felt a little guilty for making his injures more debilitating than they were but, if he had to play on her ridiculous feelings of guilt to get her to spend some time with him rather than make plans to return to Norfolk, then he was prepared to roll his sleeves up and shuffle like a geriatric if he needed to.
He sighed and glanced down at the woman on his arm. It irked him a little that yesterday, while they had spent some time in the same room together, it hadn’t been alone as he wanted. Nearly all of the Star Elite had, at some point, made an appearance in the study while he had been in there, and had seemingly wanted to stay and chat for a while in his room. Unfortunately, their almost determined presence drove Pie to the point that he had started to wonder if they were doing it deliberately to keep him away from Florrie. It was only his during late meeting with his colleagues in the library that he had been assured of their support, and he had accepted their willing help with his plans to ensure that Florrie didn’t stand a chance of getting to Norfolk without one heck of a fight.
This morning, although still feeling slightly stiff and uncomfortable, he was considerably better. Strong enough to be able to at least attempt the walk to the church, and more determined than ever to begin step two of his attempt to persuade Florrie to remain by his side. Step one had been to get her to walk him to the church.
“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” He murmured, taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air. Although rain clouds hovered threateningly above, they hadn’t started to release their watery fury just yet. To Pie, it was wonderful to be out of doors and back in the fresh air again. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed it until now. Was his joy with the day because of the woman on his arm? He wasn’t sure and didn’t want to look at it too closely. It was irrelevant really because there was nowhere else he wanted either of them to be.
“It is beautiful, and very peaceful.” Florrie studied the rolling green landscape around them and slowed her pace just a little more. They had plenty of time yet before the first carriage was due to arrive at the church. She glanced back at the house, a little disconcerted with how short a distance they had travelled, but she wouldn’t say as much to Pie. It didn’t matter to her if he took the rest of the day to get to the wedding, as long as this man was beside her.
“I love it here,” he sighed, glancing longingly at the lawns surrounding them. If he could persuade Florrie to stay with him for the rest of her life, they would spend every day walking those gardens when he was at home.
“It really is beautiful,” Florrie sighed, feeling a pang of bittersweet longing.
“The house?” Pie asked hopefully.
“The house and the area,” Florrie replied honestly. “I like them both, although the house could do with a good clean.”
“I don’t think cleaning is Jamie’s forte,” Pie teased with a smile. It was good to see the shadows had gone from her beautiful chocolate coloured eyes. He wondered whether they sparkled when she laughed and realised that he had never heard her laugh before. It saddened him a little that the circumstances since her arrival at Crompton had been so stark.
Florrie smiled and shook her head. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, darling, but it won’t take much to get it back to its former splendour.”
Florrie tried not to show her astonishment at the endearment that seemed to flow so easily off his lips. A small part of her was thrilled upon hearing it, but a more cautious part of her warned her not to read too much into it.
“It will make for a nice house one day. It is a shame that Jamie doesn’t seem to have much interest in it,” Florrie sighed. It wasn’t an accusation. She was merely stating a fact. It seemed sad that such a large home was to remain cold and empty.
“Is it much bigger than the house you grew up in?”
“I cannot remember my parents’ house at all. I cannot even remember the fire that took their lives, but Tabatha’s house is a little smaller than Crompton. It has six bedrooms as opposed to ten. The grounds are also smaller and there are fewer outbuildings than here.”
“Will you be sad to leave Oxfordshire?”
Florrie shook her head. “Not really. It was a house I grew up in, but it has never been a home. I have always considered it to be Tabatha’s house, even when Uncle Archibald was alive.”
“I much prefer the land to the sea. It is much more calming, don’t you think?” Pie began, scanning the horizon thoughtfully while his mind fought to find ways to broach the subjects he most wanted to discuss with her. He tried to keep the tension out of the arm she was holding but it was difficult. Every sense was tuned to her; every emotion was focused on her reply. It was imperative that he get this right.
“I don’t mind really.”
“Would you prefer to live nearer to the sea though? I mean, you are moving to Norfolk, a coastal county.”
“I am, but only because my Uncle Silas lives there. Jamie has his life here and doesn’t need a wayward relative on his doorstep. Although I adore Jamie, I grew up feeling closest to my Uncle Silas.”
“He lives in Norfolk with his wife and children?”
“Yes, with his wife and children.” She briefly explained about the financial arrangements and her upbringing, along with her ownership of the cottage in Norfolk.
Pie felt his heart sink a little at the wistfulness on her face as she talked about the small, single storey building
that was overlooking the sea. He wondered if he could persuade her to visit there for their honeymoon, and stay for part of his recovery while the house behind them was readied for their arrival.
He sensed her hesitation and knew that she had turned her thoughts toward leaving. He hobbled a little and drew to a stop. The morning air had brought a pink tinge to her cheeks that made her look wonderfully fresh and invigorated. The shadows had gone from her eyes leaving her gaze clear and untroubled. But it was the intensity in which she was studying him that thrilled him. She was trying not to show it, but he knew she was worried about him and cared about him. He just didn’t know if the depth of her feelings for him were as strong as his for her.
“Are you alright?” She asked after several moments of silence. She studied his face closely. Although his bruises had already started to change colour, she knew he still hurt a lot from the stiff way he was moving, but at least he was upright. “Do you want to rest for a while?”
Pie shook his head thoughtfully for a moment. He had just a few more yards to go before that could happen. Feeling slightly guilty for the subterfuge, he waited patiently until they were out of sight of the main house and slowly drew to a halt again, panting a little as though the exertion cost him greatly. They hadn’t yet turned into the small lane that led to the church and, for a few moments at least, were all alone.
“Pie?”
He sensed her worry and hurried to calm her.
“I am fine, just a little tired that’s all.” He took a deep breath, delighted when her thin arm stole around his waist. He leaned on her a little bit and took a moment to breathe in the delicious scent of her. Giving in to temptation he placed a tender kiss on her temple.