‘Then he should approach me himself. There is a protocol for such things.’
‘You are a marquess, a busy man.’ A note of sarcasm crept into the man’s tone, reinforcing Archie’s earlier assumptions about his dissatisfaction. ‘Even so, the matter is delicate.’ Conrad cleared his throat. ‘It concerns Miss Latimer.’
Archie fixed Conrad with a look of studied nonchalance and said nothing. The silence stretched out, highlighting their mutual antipathy, broken only by the sound of the long clock ticking in the corner of the room. Archie made no effort to hide his contempt, and it looked to him that Conrad was struggling to conceal his own feelings as Archie’s attitude emphasised the difference in their respective situations; a haughty marquess deigning to receive an underling. If he wasn’t so worried about Conrad’s interference in Flora’s affairs, to say nothing of his connection to her father, he would almost be enjoying himself.
‘Yes, Miss Latimer.’ Conrad cleared his throat, the sound unnaturally loud. ‘I understand she spent the day here yesterday.’ Archie’s expression remained carved in stone, further increasing Conrad’s discomfort. ‘Her father takes a dim view of her spending her day with an unmarried man, risking her reputation.’
‘What exactly are you implying?’ Archie asked, his tone silk on steel.
‘Come off it, Felsham, we all know what you were capable of in your younger years, and leopards don’t change their spots. Miss Latimer is an innocent, the daughter of a clergyman and no doubt overwhelmed by your position of authority, her soft heart moved by your disability. But she’s a prime piece, and I can quite understand your attraction. A man must have some sport, after all.’ Conrad flashed an insolent smile. ‘I wonder if she knows how you came to incur your injuries.’
The barb was intended to wound, and found its mark, but not so much as a flicker in Archie’s expression gave the fact away. ‘Get to the point, Conrad. I don’t have all day.’
‘The point is that the dean has plans for his daughter that do not require her reputation to be sullied.’
Archie threw back his head and laughed. ‘You don’t know Miss Latimer very well if you think she will allow her father to dictate her future. She is of age and has independent means. She mentioned you to me in passing, as a matter of fact, and also told me that your advances were unwelcome. What implications should we draw from that, Pawson?’
‘Desperation?’ Pawson replied succinctly, earning himself a sullen scowl from Conrad. Underlings daring to interfere in gentlemen’s business would not find favour with the socially conscious Conrad, which is precisely why Archie had asked for Pawson’s opinion.
‘I tend to agree,’ Archie said. ‘You must be desperate to have come here in such a brazen manner to warn me off, Conrad. What is it that you want from her, other than the obvious?’
‘Her father and I have mutual business interests.’ Conrad sat a little straighter. ‘I am engaged as an investment advisor at Coutts.’
‘What is that to do with Miss Latimer?’ Archie asked, allowing the lie regarding Conrad’s employment to go uncontested.
‘Look, Felsham, your association with Miss Latimer has not gone unnoticed in ecclesiastical circles, and as I said before, your reputation precedes you. Everyone in Lyneham is aware that you look after her interests, and you can imagine what impression that gives. For a man in Latimer’s position, it creates a stain upon his character too.’
Archie leaned an elbow on his desk and rubbed his lips with the side of his index finger, disturbed by Conrad’s words since there was an element of truth to them. ‘Be careful,’ Archie warned. ‘You were never a gracious loser, Conrad, but we are no longer reckless youths attempting to steal one another’s thunder. There is nothing you can do to undermine my position, and we have nothing more to say to one another.’ Archie expelled a weary sigh. ‘Go back to Latimer—if indeed he sent you here in the first place—and tell him that if he has anything to say to me then he can make an appointment and say it to me himself.’
‘I can see that the loss of your legs has done nothing to improve your temper or your character,’ Conrad said, standing and glowering at Archie, his face flushed with rage. ‘You are still an arrogant devil, full of your own self-importance.’
‘Sounds to me as though you have been looking at your own reflection a little too long and a little too frequently,’ Archie said with an eloquently casual shrug.
‘I don’t think you have any idea what you have taken on.’ Conrad’s jaw vibrated with anger. ‘Leave her alone, Felsham. She deserves better. There are more powerful forces than you could possibly know opposed to you, and they would crush a cripple like you without breaking sweat if you were to involve yourself in their affairs.’ He looked down at Archie with a cynical sneer. ‘Your wealth and title won’t save you; not a second time.’
‘Pawson, show this gentleman out.’ Archie picked up the letter on the top of his waiting pile of correspondence and pretended to become absorbed with its contents. ‘He is leaving. Give instructions to the gatehouse to ensure he’s not admitted to my grounds again.’
‘With pleasure, my lord.’
‘You have not heard the last of this, Felsham,’ Conrad said, moving towards the door under his own steam before Pawson shoved him in that direction. ‘No, don’t bother to get up.’ He sent Archie a cynical look over his shoulder. ‘Oh of course, excuse me, but you can’t, can you?’
Archie didn’t bother to respond, even though the barb stung. He continued to peruse his letter as though Conrad hadn’t spoken, conscious of Pawson helping his unwelcome visitor from the room with a hard shove in the back.
‘What the devil was that all about?’ Pawson asked as soon as he returned. ‘Did Latimer really send him? And why didn’t you let me throw him out through the window? He had no business speaking to you that way.’
‘It seems he knows how to bear a grudge, whereas I haven’t given him a passing thought all these years, at least until Flora mentioned his name. Did Latimer send him?’ Archie tapped his fingers against the surface of his desk as he considered that possibility. ‘Possibly, but I am more concerned about why he would choose to do so. And more concerned still about his being aware of Flora’s movements yesterday. It implies that he—or someone employed by her father—is keeping watch over her.’
‘I somehow doubt it.’ Pawson flopped down into the chair that Conrad had just vacated, his agile mind better able to consider the matter dispassionately since his feelings were not engaged. ‘The villagers would pick up on that person’s presence and you’d get to hear of it.’
Archie ran his quill repeatedly through his fingers. ‘He did make one fair point, though.’
‘About your interest in Flora being misinterpreted?’ Pawson grinned. ‘For once, your intentions are not dishonourable, but I suppose he can be forgiven for not having considered that possibility, given the nature of your history with the man.’
Archie sent him a dour look. ‘What are they up to, Pawson, him and Latimer?’
‘We’ll find out soon enough. He will have to pass through Lyneham to get to wherever he’s going, and I’m having him followed.’
‘Good man.’
‘Why lie about his place of employment?’
‘He felt intimidated, I expect, and wanted to exaggerate his own importance. His real purpose was a clumsy attempt to warn me away from Flora. He tried to emphasise the fact that I will have to marry her if I continue to ply her with attention—’
Pawson grinned. ‘And that would be a terrible sacrifice to ask any man to make.’
It would be if Flora thought he was making a noble gesture to save her reputation, and if that situation arose there wasn’t the slightest possibility of her accepting him. Close as Archie was to Pawson though, he was not ready to share his aspirations or fears in that regard.
His thoughts reverted to his preoccupations of earlier that morning regarding the unpalatable sight of his naked body, and he mentally recoiled. Even so, Conrad’s
warning had struck home. In attempting to keep Flora safe and ensuring that she enjoyed her strike for independence, he was compromising her in many respects.
That situation couldn’t endure indefinitely. He would either have to cut her free or take a risk in declaring himself, possibly before she was ready to hear him.
If she ever would be.
‘Pardon, my lord,’ Draper said, entering the room. ‘Will is here from Fox Hollow with an urgent message. I thought you would like to know.’
Archie shared a worried look with Pawson. ‘Show him in at once, Draper.’
Will, who was married to Flora’s cook Beatrice, had been appointed to the position by Archie. Her servants were loyal to Archie and Flora equally, but unbeknown to Flora they were also charged with keeping Archie abreast of any problems created by her sometimes reckless determination to live her life by her own unorthodox standards. Will had never called in person before to report on her activities, contenting himself with meeting Pawson during his regular visits to the village to keep him informed, which meant that something important must have occurred to bring him here today.
Will entered the room, looking windswept and out of breath.
‘What is it, Will?’ Archie asked.
‘Excuse the intrusion, my lord, but I thought you would want to know that Miss Latimer’s youngest sister Melanie turned up unexpectedly at Fox Hollow last night.’
Archie and Pawson exchanged another bewildered look as Will, at Archie’s urging, sank into a chair and told the entire story.
‘Miss Latimer, Polly tells me, is furious at the nature of her sister’s injuries which were inflicted by their father, and determined that she will not return to the family home to endure further torture.’
‘Her father has beaten her? Good God.’ Archie’s mind whirled with increasingly unpalatable possibilities as he extracted as much information from Will as there was to be had. Once he knew everything, he thanked the man and sent him on his way.
‘What’s going on, guv’nor?’ Pawson asked, scratching his head.
‘I’m not sure.’ Archie allowed himself a moment’s reflection. ‘If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say it was a clumsy attempt on Latimer’s part to get Flora to return to the family fold. He’s tried forcing her hand, and he’s tried gentle coercion. Neither has worked. Nor has Conrad’s attempts at romancing her.’ Archie scowled at that particular prospect. ‘Flora is of age, so Latimer can’t force her to do anything against her will, but…’
‘But he’s aware of her affection for her youngest sibling.’ Pawson scratched his chin. ‘Would he really abuse the child, hold her hand over a naked flame no less, to get his way?’
‘Will only knew that the father had inflicted her injuries, not why. Flora spoke to her about that in private. But if I were asked to wager, I’d place a fortune on Latimer knowing that the child’s character closely matches Flora’s and that she would run to her big sister in her hour of need.’
‘Ah, I get what you mean.’ Pawson scowled at the booklined walls. ‘He can’t force Flora to return home but he can insist upon Melanie going back with him. He holds parental power over her.’
‘Right. And Flora won’t know a moment’s peace if that situation occurs. I shall have to intervene.’
‘I would strongly advise against it,’ Pawson replied. ‘If she needs your help, she will ask for it.’
‘But if Latimer comes with the ultimatum that I envisage…’
‘Flora won’t give in just like that and will probably tell him to go to the Devil. Besides, if you go charging in on some pretext so soon after spending the afternoon with her, she will know at once that someone’s told you about her sister. That will undermine her relationship with Polly and her other servants.’
‘True, I suppose.’ Archie straightened his troublesome leg, too preoccupied to feel the protest it put up. ‘Still, at least it shows that Conrad isn’t watching her the entire time, since he made no mention of the sister’s visit. But it does make me suppose that Latimer didn’t send him here if he has another plan to get Flora back. So he must have come of his own volition. I wonder why.’
‘Sizing up the opposition. He won’t have seen you since your return to the land of the living, and he probably wanted to observe for himself how incapacitated you actually are.’
‘Ha!’
‘Give it a day or two, guv’nor, for Flora to fight her own battle. If she hasn’t asked for your help by then, it wouldn’t be unreasonable for you to invent a reason to call upon her. Nor would it be unreasonable to assume that news of the sister’s arrival had reached you through the village gossip, thus giving you a justifiable reason for your call.’
‘Aye, you’re right as usual, Pawson, I suppose.’ Archie stretched his arms above his head and sighed.
Pawson grinned. ‘I usually am, precious little thanks I get for it.’
‘Even so, I don’t like it.’ Archie, a man of action and authority, felt impotent. ‘I don’t like it one little bit. Flora will now have to fight off her father and Conrad’s attentions.’
‘Conrad clearly has a massive chip on his shoulder. I’d really like to know why he was dismissed from Coutts.’
Archie picked up a letter from that day’s correspondence and brandished it in the air. ‘You will soon get your wish. I wrote to one of the directors of Coutts a couple of days ago, suggesting that I might be looking for investment opportunities.’ Archie managed the suggestion of a smile. ‘He is calling tomorrow to discuss the matter with me.’
Pawson grinned. ‘I like your style, guv’nor.’
Chapter Nine
Flora woke early, feeling the warmth of a body spooned against her and hearing the sound of someone else’s rhythmic breathing. Ye gods, surely she hadn’t acted out her growing fantasy with Archie and finished up in his bed? Her eyes flew open and her gaze focused on the familiar surroundings of her own bedchamber before coming to rest upon the face of her sister, who was sleeping peacefully. The drama of the previous day came flooding back and Flora was ashamed of the momentary disappointment she experienced at not finding herself in Archie’s arms.
Shaking her head to dispel that disappointment, fresh anger coursed through her at the sight of Melanie’s bandaged hand. She mumbled in her sleep but her eyes didn’t open, and Flora brushed a strand of hair away from the smooth, creamy skin of Melanie’s face. Like Flora, she had a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, but unlike Flora she showed early signs of developing into a rare beauty. At that moment she looked impossibly young and defenceless, but she had found the strength of mind from somewhere to flee from their father’s abuse. Flora would now conduct a battle of wills with him on behalf of both of them, and somehow prevent Melanie from being forced to return.
She eased herself quietly from the bed, careful not to wake her sister. Tying a robe over her night attire, she lifted the doorlatch and slipped onto the landing, where she encountered Polly loading clean sheets into the linen press.
‘My sister is still asleep,’ she said softly. ‘Has the snow stopped?’
‘Yes, miss, and the sun’s come out. The roads are clear.’
‘Right, good. I want you to go into the village, Polly. Call at the modistes. They have some pretty readymade skirts that I noticed the other day. Purchase two for my sister please, along with everything else she is likely to need, and have them put the items on my account. Melanie will be staying indefinitely and we need to get enough things for her to feel comfortable straight away. We can add to them at our leisure.’
‘Leave it to me, miss. I have an idea of her size.’
‘We will allow her to sleep until you return, and then we can surprise her with her new wardrobe. Oh and, Polly, choose bright colours. Anything but grey. She and I have worn enough grey to last us both several lifetimes.’
‘Of course, miss.’
Polly took herself off and Flora attended to her ablutions. Once washed and dressed, the smell of frying bacon lured h
er downstairs.
‘How is the poor mite?’ Beatrice asked, as Flora seated herself and Beatrice placed a substantial breakfast in front of her.
‘Still asleep.’ Flora glanced at her plate. ‘Are you trying to fatten me up?’
‘Someone needs to. There’s nothing of you.’
‘I suspect this is the best night’s sleep Melanie has had in a long while.’ Flora scowled as she sipped at her scalding coffee. ‘Lying about in bed in my family home was discouraged.’
Beatrice sniffed. ‘Sounds like a right den of fun and laughter.’
Flora rolled her eyes. ‘You have no idea.’
‘Anyway, I’ll leave you to enjoy your breakfast. You’ve sent Polly out on an errand, she told me, so call me if you need anything else.’
‘Thank you, Beatrice, but I can fend for myself.’
‘Doesn’t mean you have to. I enjoy spoiling you.’
‘And I am very lucky to have you.’ She glanced out of the back window and noticed Will driving off in the gig with Mabel between the shafts. ‘Where’s Will going in this weather?’
‘Oh, I expect he has things that need to be done.’ Flora glanced up at Beatrice, frowning. She sounded evasive, but Will had never given her any reason to question his loyalty so she let the matter go. ‘It will take more than a spot of inclement weather to prevent my Will from carrying out his duties.’
Left alone, Flora ate slowly, her mind dwelling upon Melanie’s situation and how best to deal with it. She wondered if she should send a telegram to her father, reassuring him that Melanie was safe, but dismissed the idea just as quickly. There was only one place that Melanie was likely to run to, and Flora realised that she could expect the dubious pleasure of a visit from her father before the end of the day.
She squared her shoulders; ready for a confrontation that was long overdue, an idea taking shape at the back of her mind.
Polly returned just as Flora finished her breakfast.
‘I got all the things your little sister will need, miss,’ she said breathlessly. ‘They will be delivered within the hour.’ She pulled off her bonnet and shrugged her arms out of her coat, shivering with cold. ‘The whole village is talking about her dramatic arrival, I’m afraid. There’s no help for that. Mrs Gregory knew who I must be shopping for immediately. She asked all manner of questions but I didn’t tell her much.’
A Sense of Fate (Perceptions Book 7) Page 13