Given time! A small smile twisted my lips. I had no intention of remaining at Belvedere a moment longer than I had to. Though, for the moment, I could not for the life of me see how I could escape, any more than Antoinette could.
* * *
I was thinking of retiring myself when the drawing-room door opened and Louis came in.
‘Ah, you are still here, Flora. Good.’ His tone was purposeful.
‘I would not sleep if I retired too early,’ I said – and did not add that these days I had difficulty in sleeping in any case.
Louis crossed to the small drinks table, unstoppered the brandy decanter, and poured himself a good measure.
‘I have a favour to ask of you, Flora,’ he said, warming the glass between his hands.
I looked at him, surprised and questioning, and suddenly I experienced again that strange, unfamiliar twist deep inside me and the tightening of the breath in my throat. For a moment I could not tear my eyes from him; it was as if he was magnetizing me and the whole of my world was occupied by this tall, powerful man with the dark brooding looks. I lowered my gaze from his face, focusing on the hands that held the brandy glass, and that was every bit as bad, for there was something about those hands, strong and brown from riding in all weathers and often without gloves, that magnetized me too. So many gentlemen had hands that were soft and white, and I had always thought them unappealing and, frankly, unmasculine. My father’s hands had been horny and leathered from hard work, and I had always considered them to be far more honest, comforting and reliable. But
Louis’ hands… oh! The excitement twisted once again within me, so sharp that it almost made me squirm.
Somehow I regained control of myself. ‘Yes?’ I said faintly.
Louis sipped his brandy. ‘I have to go to France tomorrow,’ he said. ‘It’s a little unexpected, but trading can be. When an opportunity arises…’
‘Your visitors came to tell you of it,’ I said. ‘Antoinette said you were occupied on business.’
‘She is accustomed to my ways.’ He smiled faintly. ‘Where is Antoinette? Has she gone to bed?’
‘She’s gone to her room, certainly. As to whether she has retired, I do not know.’
He nodded, satisfied. ‘Well, it is of no importance. Just so long as she is not about to burst in on us, for the favour I want to ask of you concerns her.’
My heart sank; I knew what he was going to say.
‘I expect to be gone for about a week,’ Louis went on, ‘and I would be most grateful if you would keep watch over her whilst I am gone. What happened this afternoon has caused me great concern, and to be truthful, I would have preferred it if I could have arranged for her to stay with friends for a while so that she is well away from that wretched boy and his influence over her. I had been considering sending her to Bath or Bristol for the time being at least, and in the hope that with new experiences to fill her time and the company of other girls of her own age and class she might perhaps forget about John Frogwell. But this business opportunity has arisen sooner than I expected and there will be no time for me to make the necessary arrangements.’
His eyes levelled with mine. ‘It’s an imposition, I realize, Flora, but there is no one else I can ask, and I am most concerned for her welfare.’
‘What about Gavin?’ I suggested, unwilling to assume responsibility for such a wilful young woman.
Louis laughed shortly. ‘Gavin, I am very much afraid, only encourages her. My brother sees no reason to control himself, let alone Antoinette.’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘Certainly I will do what I can, but she has a mind of her own, and I think she regards me as an unwelcome interloper.’
‘She knows she cannot twist you around her little finger,’ Louis said. ‘And she knows you will report back to me if she misbehaves. You proved that today. You are a strong personality, Flora, much stronger than the governesses she made short work of. I think she respects you more than you realize.’
I pulled a face. I did not think Antoinette respected me at all. I could scarcely refuse to even try to control her whilst Louis was in France, but the prospect was a daunting one.
‘Will you at least tell her that you are vesting authority in me whilst you are away?’ I requested.
Louis nodded. ‘Of course. Provided she is still awake and I can speak to her tonight, since I shall be leaving very early in the morning. We sail on the dawn tide.’
My heart sank and I realized it was not just because I was reluctant to take responsibility for Antoinette without her father having explained the position to her. No, it was far more than that.
I would miss Louis. For reasons that had nothing at all to do with Antoinette, I did not want him to go.
* * *
In spite of the flutterings of attraction I had felt for him, the strength of my feelings now came as a shock to me. This went far deeper than the frisson of excitement evoked by the natural chemistry between a man and a woman. It was a twisting of my heart, not just my loins, an ache of longing so fierce it frightened me. And I was afraid, too, that what I was feeling must be written all over my face, and clearly obvious to Louis. Yet he seemed to notice nothing.
‘I’ll go and speak to her now,’ he said. ‘I won’t be long. Will you wait?’
I nodded. I could not trust myself to speak.
He left the room and I crossed to sit in the little spindle-legged chair, my heart pounding. It was crazy, quite crazy, that I should feel this way about a man who had deprived me of my home without so much as a proper apology and brought me here against my will. A man who thought of nothing but business and making money, a man who could exile his brother simply because they did not get along, who seemed to have little interest in his daughter beyond disciplining her. Yet somehow, insidiously, I had developed feelings for him that I had never experienced for anyone else.
It must be, I thought, that the shock of my father’s murder and my grief at his loss had left me vulnerable. I was grasping at straws, looking for something or someone to fill the empty place in my heart and distract me from my pain. It was a stupid infatuation, nothing more and nothing less, and it would go as quickly as it had come. It had to, for there could never be anything between Louis and me, and with the thinking part of me, I did not want there to be.
But it was not the thinking part of me that was instigating these powerful emotions. It was something dark and primal, something over which I had no control. That, I think, was what disturbed me most of all – to think that something like this could creep up on me so slyly and possess me so utterly with such suddenness.
My eye fell on the brandy decanter and suddenly I felt the need for something to calm my jangling nerves and steady the uneven beat of my heart. But it would not be proper to take a drink of Louis’ brandy without asking, and I could never bring myself to do that – faith, it was not proper for a lady to drink brandy at all! But oh, I could do with that warming trickle down my throat and into my trembling stomach!
Louis’ empty glass stood on the little drinks table where he had left it and I hovered, sorely tempted. There was no sound of footsteps on the stairs; he must have found Antoinette awake and be talking to her. It would be some time before he returned. Suppose I was to pour myself just a little, and drink it quickly – he would not be any the wiser – unless of course he smelled it on my breath. But since he had been drinking himself and we would not be in close proximity, the danger of that was not so great… was it?
I reached for the decanter, then stopped myself. If he should smell it and know I was drinking secretly, I would die of shame. Even if I ran up to my room and rinsed my mouth afterwards, the smell might still linger…
I stood uncertain, sorely tempted, yet afraid to give in to the longing that had become almost as overwhelming as my stupid, unreasonable longing for Louis himself.
‘Flora.’
His voice from the doorway made me jump almost out of my skin, and hot guilty colour flooded my cheeks. I snat
ched my hand away from the brandy decanter as if it were a burning coal and spun round, hoping he had not noticed. But, of course, he had.
‘Did you want a drink?’ he asked, sounding surprised.
‘No… I…’ I was overcome with confusion.
‘I’m sorry. I should have offered you one,’ he said. ‘I quite forgot that you come from an environment where such refreshment is readily available.’ He sounded faintly amused and the colour flamed brighter in my cheeks.
‘I didn’t drink at home!’ I protested. ‘Well, not very often, anyway.’
‘But you’d like one now. The prospect of being responsible for Antoinette is weighing heavily upon you. Oh, have a drink, chérie, if that’s what you want. I don’t mind.’
He crossed the room, took a fresh glass and poured some brandy into it, and also into his own glass – the one I had considered using. And as he did so I realized something else which shocked me almost as much as all the other realizations. Part of the temptation had been to drink from the glass that he had used, to put my lips where his had been…
‘No, really…’ I said faintly.
‘Come on, I’ve poured it now.’ He seemed quite oblivious to my confusion. ‘Only if you really are not used to it, I think perhaps a little water…’
He lifted the small jug that stood on the tray and added some to my glass.
‘I’ve spoken to Antoinette and told her that she is to answer to you in my absence. She took it very well – I think it’s quite likely she will behave better for you than she does for me. If she does not, then she is well appraised that some of her privileges will be removed on my return. But somehow I don’t think you will have too much trouble with her.’
He handed me my glass, and picked up his own.
‘Perhaps you would feel less guilty about indulging if we had something to drink to,’ he said wryly. ‘The success of my trip to France, for instance.’
‘Oh – yes…’ The brandy fumes were already in my nostrils, pungent and uplifting. ‘To your business trip to France.’
He raised his glass. ‘Success – and a safe return for all of us.’
Though I did not think of it at the time, it seemed a strange way of wording the toast, and a strange tone of voice in which he said it.
I sipped the amber liquid and felt it run a trickle of warmth down my throat and into my stomach.
Oh, I should not like the taste, but I did! And I should not like what it did to me either. Strong drink could be very pleasant and even medicinal in some circumstances, but it could also make men quarrelsome as well as happy, and lead to the abandonment of values, and recklessness.
At that moment, I did not care. As the alcohol beat a warm path through my veins, my eyes met Louis’ over the rim of the glass, and we smiled at one another.
And this time, when the sharp excitement twisted deep inside me, I did not wince, but welcomed it. Madness it might be, but at that moment, the feelings that were running riot in me made a welcome change from grief and loss and loneliness.
For tonight, at least, I would enjoy the diversion. And leave the bearing of the consequences until tomorrow.
Seven
When I rose next morning, Louis had already left – and I was glad of it. With the liberating effects of the brandy now worn off, I would have been mortified if I had been forced to face him, anxious that in my abandoned state I had betrayed the tumultuous emotions that had overwhelmed me, and shamed that I had taken strong drink at all.
Antoinette seemed to be in good humour, as if she was glad her father was to be away for a week or so, and I hoped that did not mean she intended to try to take advantage of his absence. I would spend as much time as I could with her, I decided. My initiation into the mysteries of my new secretarial duties would have to wait until Louis returned and I was relieved of my responsibility for Antoinette.
As it so happened, there would have been little I could do in that regard in any case, for Bevan sent a message to say he was unwell again and remaining at home to nurse the cough that plagued him. Clearly he had returned too soon, and made himself ill again, and I could see why Louis felt the need of a younger, fitter secretary. But as yet I did not have the experience to be of any use without considerable guidance, and instead I suggested to Antoinette that since it was a fine bright day we might take a walk so that she could show me something of the grounds.
To my surprise, she agreed readily enough, and well wrapped-up against the still-chilly wind, we set out. Clearly she was proud of her home and its magnificent setting, and we went much further than I had intended, circling the deer park and even venturing into the woods beyond. My suspicions as to her motives were aroused, however, when she pointed out to me the pheasant-breeding pens which would soon be full of strutting chicks, and I noticed, not far off, a dilapidated cottage with a thin trail of smoke spiralling from the chimney.
This must be the hovel where her friend John lived, I guessed, and instantly I was on the alert, fearing some kind of confrontation. But the door of the cottage was firmly closed, and of John or his dog there was no sign.
‘I think it’s time we went back,’ I said.
She glanced at me, her foxy green eyes sharp. ‘You are tired? You are not used to long walks, I suppose.’
‘I am very used to long walks!’ I returned. ‘But it looks to me as if the path is becoming very muddy.’
‘Oh, it’s always muddy in the woods in winter,’ Antoinette said airily. ‘The ground doesn’t get the chance to dry out under the trees.’
‘All the more reason for staying in the park,’ I said, and did not add that I had reasons of my own, which had nothing to do with the mud or even the risk of crossing paths with John, and everything to do with the little thrill I felt from being on Louis’ land. Oh, the woods were his, too, I supposed, but they were wild and natural, they belonged more to the animals and the birds than to any man, whilst the park was tended on Louis’ orders and kept to his design. It was foolish of me to feel so, I knew, yet I could not help it. It came from the singing excitement that filled my heart, an excitement not unlike that which begins when the first buds of spring burst on the trees and the sun is warm on the skin after the chill of a long winter. It was a measure of the insanity that had taken hold of me, but I could not care.
When we returned to the house we went in by the rear entrance so as not to tread mud from our boots all over the front hall.
‘My, but you’ve roses in your cheeks!’ Cook remarked. ‘It’s the first time I’ve seen them since you came here!’
She was stirring a cauldron and the aroma of good vegetable broth filled the kitchen, making me feel truly hungry for the first time in a long while.
‘Fresh air works wonders,’ I said. ‘I hope it’s not too long until luncheon!’
Antoinette and I went to our rooms to divest ourselves of our outerwear, and as I came back down the staircase, a small sound alerted me to the fact that someone was in the study. Had Bevan come in after all? If so, he would be wondering why I had not presented myself to assist him.
I crossed the hall, my slippered feet making no sound, and pushed open the door. Then I stopped, staring in surprise. Not Bevan, but Gavin, poring over some papers on the desk. When he saw me in the doorway, a startled look crossed his face.
‘Flora! What are you doing here?’
‘I thought perhaps Mr Bevan was better and had come in to work,’ I said.
‘Oh, that old fool is never going to be better!’ Gavin said carelessly and rather cruelly. ‘Only the Grim Reaper will put right what’s wrong with him.’
As he spoke he was shuffling the papers on the desk into a hasty pile, almost as if he did not want me to see them, then he straightened, clutching them to his chest.
‘You are not proposing to work now, are you?’
‘Well, no…’
‘Off you go then.’
It was so unlike Gavin’s usual syrupy smooth charm, I was startled. He seemed eager to be
rid of me, and for the life of me I could not understand why.
I turned, and it was then that I noticed that the bureau which I had found locked yesterday now stood open. Clearly the papers which Gavin was so anxious I should not see were the ones which were usually kept under lock and key.
‘Shall I see you at luncheon?’ I did not know why I said it, unless perhaps to give myself a moment longer to stare at the open bureau and wonder what was kept there that was so secret that Bevan had become agitated by the mere touch of my hand on the door, and Gavin hustled me out of the study as if I were a trespasser.
‘I expect so, yes.’ Again his tone was short.
I went to the parlour, puzzling over the incident. There had been something almost furtive about the way Gavin had scrabbled up the papers and dismissed me. Was it that he had not wanted me to see their contents – or that he had been taking advantage of Louis’ and Mr Bevan’s absence to pry himself into something he was not usually party to? I did not know why such an idea had come into my head, and I told myself I was making a mystery where none existed.
But my curiosity had been aroused all the same, and I thought I would very much like to see what it was that everyone else seemed so anxious I should not.
* * *
Gavin, when I next saw him at luncheon, seemed to have quite regained his usual breezy manner.
‘I’m so glad you’re here, Uncle Gavin,’ Antoinette greeted him. ‘I was very afraid yesterday that Papa had upset you.’
‘Oh, he’s always upsetting me, you know that,’ Gavin said ruefully. ‘But it would take more than a few harsh words to get rid of me!’
‘I certainly hope so! I want you to have a look at Perdita for me. I thought she seemed a little lame, but Thompson insists there is nothing wrong with her.’
‘Of course I’ll look at her for you, sweeting.’
‘And perhaps ride with me if there really is nothing the matter with her?’
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