A Sense of Fate (Perceptions Book 7)

by Wendy Soliman

  Flora looked on as Archie brandished the blade in the air with a skilful and flamboyant flourish and swept it down on the hand that was holding the dagger, opening the flesh and cutting bone, slicing through the arteries on Conrad’s wrist and sending a spray of blood across the muddy floor. Conrad looked momentarily surprised, then screamed in a high-pitched wail, looking down at the hand that was now hanging limply from the end of his arm. He fell to his knees, desperately using his uninjured hand to push the other one back into place, uttering little squeals of pain and shock as he tried to staunch the jets of blood.

  Archie had overstepped himself and missed his footing in the deep mud. He fell awkwardly onto his injured side with a howl. Flora cried out in alarm and was crouching beside him in the mud in seconds.

  ‘You foolish, foolish man. Why did you have to do that? There was absolutely no need.’

  ‘There was every need,’ Archie replied, gritting his teeth through the pain that he’d undoubtedly hoped never to experience again. ‘What sort of man would I be if I’d failed to protect you myself?’

  She sniffed, unimpressed and yet deeply moved by his desire to prove himself to her. She pushed the hair away from his brow and kissed his forehead, mindless of the surge of people pouring into the barn who were watching them with avid interest.

  ‘If I knew it would make you kiss me, I’d fight for your honour more often.’ He winked at her, then groaned, uttered a string of oaths and passed out.

  Flora glanced at Pawson, who already had Conrad on his feet, a cloth wrapped around his wrist and a belt cinched tight around his forearm to stop the copious flow of blood. He passed him over to Trench.

  ‘Confine him in your cellar until he can be taken in charge by the constable,’ he said. ‘Try to make sure he doesn’t bleed to death, and for goodness sake please prevent the local populace from lynching him. His lordship will be wanting words with him when he is recovered.’

  ‘Right you are,’ Trench replied, pushing Conrad none too gently in the direction of the tavern, ignoring both his protests and his foul language.

  ‘I was charged by Latimer to bring his daughter home. Felsham attacked me. You all saw it,’ Conrad cried desperately.

  ‘Help me up,’ Archie groaned, as he regained consciousness.

  ‘Stay where you are,’ Flora replied in a tone that brooked no argument, gently touching his injured leg, satisfied at least that no bones were protruding from the skin. ‘Melanie, are you all right?’

  Melanie nodded. ‘Just a little shaken.’

  ‘Good girl! I’m proud of you.’ Flora glanced up and saw that Polly had returned and was edging her way into the barn. ‘Go back to the cottage with Polly, my love. I will be there directly. Polly, when you get there, have cold compresses ready and light the fire in the spare chamber. Lord Felsham will be in need of both commodities.’

  Polly nodded. She took Melanie’s arm and the crowd of interested bystanders parted to let them through.

  ‘Mr Pawson, we need to get his lordship back to the cottage as well. He’s in a lot of pain and won’t withstand a jolting carriage ride to Felsham Hall. Can you and Will get him there between you?’

  ‘I can walk,’ Archie protested.

  ‘You can do as you’re told for a change,’ Flora replied sternly.

  ‘Impudent female!’ A flash of humour broke through Archie’s pained expression.

  Flora pretended not to hear the curses that slipped from his lips as Pawson and Will hauled him to his feet. With his arms around both men’s necks, Archie was virtually carried from the barn, covered in mud.

  And glory.

  Flora followed, well aware that Archie would consider the pain worthwhile for the restoration of pride that it afforded him. She shook her head, partly in admiration and partly at the absurdity of masculine nature.

  Swamped with relief that Archie’s fall had not been more serious—his fragile bones could so easily have snapped—she had a dozen questions rattling around inside her head.

  Exorcisms? What had Archie meant by that? Well, she knew what an exorcism was, obviously, but the Church of England had stopped performing them centuries ago. Was her father somehow involved in having the practice resurrected? It fitted with the clues she had found in her grandmother’s diaries, but the idea was also too awful to contemplate.

  Archie had clearly found out more than he had let on during his time in London and had deliberately kept his distance to avoid having to enlighten her.

  ‘We’ll see about that,’ she muttered beneath her breath as she followed the men back to her cottage.

  ‘Get him out of that muddy coat and those boots and take him upstairs to the first room on the right,’ Flora said as they entered her home.

  ‘Is Lord Felsham all right?’ Melanie asked anxiously, appearing in the sitting room doorway, looking pale but relatively composed.

  ‘He will be, darling. Beatrice, take care of my sister, please. Polly, bring the compresses up.’

  She expected Archie to protest at being carried up the stairs, but he was clearly too exhausted to bother.

  ‘Lay him on the bed,’ Flora said, bustling about as she turned her back and prepared a cold compress.

  ‘Always so damned bossy,’ Archie muttered, grimacing as he lay in shirtsleeves and stockinged feet on the top of the bed.

  ‘Thank you, Will.’ Her groom nodded and left the room, seeing nothing inappropriate about Flora tending a half-naked man to whom she was not related. ‘Those trousers need to come off.’ Archie sent her a salacious grin. ‘Behave yourself!’ she adjured. ‘I need to cool those muscles down.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Ignore him, Miss Latimer,’ Pawson said, moving Archie’s body with an efficiency born of experience, minimising his discomfort as he removed his trousers.

  ‘Damn it, don’t let her see me!’

  ‘I’ll close my eyes,’ Flora replied, running her hand softly down Archie’s injured leg, trying to ignore the fact that he was now wearing only his long cotton drawers. ‘You have strained the healing muscles very badly,’ she told him, gently manipulating the leg and earning a barrage of suppressed oaths for her trouble. ‘Look on the bright side. I couldn’t have moved it that much if you’d broken anything or damaged the ligaments too much.’

  ‘I must be learning how to fall.’

  ‘The mud cushioned the impact, fortunately. This will feel cold.’ She wrapped his knee and thigh in an icy compress. ‘But it will help to reduce the swelling. You are an idiot, Archie Felsham, but you saved my sister so I cannot scold you too much.’

  ‘It felt good,’ he said, grimacing through the pain.

  ‘I have questions, but they can wait. You need to rest.’

  ‘Don’t go.’ He reached for her hand and held it tight, waggling his brows at her as she perched on the side of the bed. ‘I’ve waited such a long time to get you into the same bedchamber as me.’

  ‘Well, at least I’m safe enough with you the way you are now, even if Mr Pawson appears to have left us alone.’

  ‘He knows me too well.’ Archie shifted his weight and grimaced through the pain. ‘And just so you know, I never could resist a challenge.’

  ‘You have been holding things back from me, and I am not best pleased about it.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He winced as he attempted to move his leg.

  ‘Stay still. Give the cold compress time to do its work and tell me what you know about exorcisms.’

  ‘I think your father is performing them, and I think Conrad is heavily involved, which is how they came to be connected.’

  Flora nodded. ‘I’ve found passages in Grandmamma’s diaries which I misinterpreted when I first read them. They were written at the time of my grandfather’s death.’ Flora wiped an errant tear from her cheek, unaware that Archie was watching her reaction until he gave the hand he still held in his a reassuring squeeze. ‘When I read them previously, I thought they were references to an argument about Grandmamma’s skill with he
rbs that had earned her the reputation of being a witch. As I told you before, Papa was bullied because of it, which is why he made a career in the church, publicly distancing himself from his mother’s behaviour.’

  ‘Don’t upset yourself, my love.’ Archie raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

  ‘I’m not particularly upset—well, I suppose I am to a degree. I didn’t think there was anything my father could do to disappoint or disgust me any more than he had already done with his treatment of Melanie.’ She glanced at Archie and absently pushed the hair from his brow. ‘But I was wrong. He admits to having accidentally killed his own father in a dispute that got out of hand, but I don’t think he told the truth about the dispute in question. They weren’t disagreeing about Grandmamma. I think my grandfather was taking him to task for his own interest in demon spirits.’

  ‘Very likely.’

  ‘And Grandpapa’s death was not an accident. It was a deliberate act of defiance by my father when Grandpapa tried to stop his growing obsession with dark forces.’ She paused to try and control her emotions. ‘I think Grandpapa threatened to reveal Papa’s cruel streak to the bishop. Grandmamma doesn’t actually say as much. She has couched her words so that the meaning is obscured, which is why I missed it before. I suspected something of this nature following Conrad’s appearance, even before you told me about the exorcisms.’ She sighed. ‘I had seen only what I wanted to see before that. I have little respect and no love for my father, but I didn’t want to think quite that badly of him. Grandmamma, even in the depths of her despair, must have realised it and tried to shield me without completely hiding the terrible truth.’ She blinked tears from her eyes and she looked at Archie. ‘What are we to do?’

  ‘I think your father is a cruel man who has taken his exorcisms too far. I suspect that they started out as honest attempts to cast out evil spirits. As you say, in his desire to distance himself from your grandmother’s reputation, he went too far in the opposite direction and found that he liked the power he wielded in that field as a man of the cloth. We know from his treatment of your sister—’

  ‘And me. He enjoyed whipping me as punishment for the smallest of transgressions. I think, looking back, that it aroused him. That’s partly why I left. His punishments had become more brutal and I worried that he would eventually kill me, much as he killed his own father, if I failed to do as I was told.’ She managed the suggestion of a smile. ‘As you know, I am not good at taking orders. Anyway, he rose through the ranks in the church believing he was invincible, that his word was law, his behaviour the will of God.’

  Archie snorted his contempt. ‘Nothing would surprise me.’

  ‘I still don’t understand what Conrad’s role in it all could have been.’

  ‘He is as amoral as your father, trust me on this.’ Archie winced. ‘I will talk to him myself tomorrow and get a few answers. The snivelling coward will tell me whatever I need to know in order to save his own miserable hide.’

  ‘Is he the one who orchestrated your accident?’ Flora asked.

  ‘Yes. It hadn’t previously occurred to me, but I have always wondered why Simpson would do something as underhand as cutting away that vine, my escape route. He was a gentleman and a soldier. He would have confronted me directly and demanded satisfaction if he knew of the affair. That is probably what he intended to do but I heard him coming and tried to get away. I was, I suppose, unwilling to accept that he might tell me I was welcome to her—which of course is exactly what she wanted. But the affair had already run its course.’ Archie smiled at her through his pain. ‘Conrad was my predecessor—’

  ‘You took Magda Simpson from him?’

  Archie shrugged. ‘She pursued me and I was reckless, and probably arrogant too. Conrad got that part right, at least. But that sort of thing happened, I’m afraid. We were privileged young men enjoying ourselves, and if a lady had a change of heart, then a gentleman gave way.’

  ‘But Conrad was no gentleman and didn’t understand the rules.’

  ‘Apparently not.’

  ‘He must have watched you with her. Did you use that vine to avoid detection before?’

  ‘Once, I think. And yes, if he was watching he would have known. So he chopped it away from the wall—but fortunately for me, it held until I was close enough to the ground to survive the fall.’

  ‘He warned Magda’s husband, I assume.’ She smiled. ‘Conrad must have been furious when he realised you weren’t dead. He really does seem to resent you, and still wants you gone.’

  ‘Remarkable, don’t you think, what with me being such an admirable chap.’

  ‘I could not possibly comment on that.’ Flora shook her head. ‘Are you hungry?’

  ‘Not for food.’

  ‘Behave yourself, Archie Felsham.’

  ‘You provoke me, you strip me of my clothes and then you expect me to behave?’ He sent her a predatory smile that warmed her insides. ‘You really don’t know me very well. Besides, you kissed me in front of half the village. Why did you do that? My impression was that you were attempting to play down our friendship, if only for appearance’s sake. What’s more, I was outside and heard you pretending to be my mistress.’

  ‘About that…I’ve been thinking.’

  ‘Have you now?’

  ‘Oh, Archie, don’t embarrass me and make this any harder than it needs to be. We both know that this…this thing between us can’t go on the way it is. It’s intrusive and needs to be addressed. I know you have been biding your time, waiting to pose a question and now seems as good a time as any to tell you that I am agreeable.’

  Archie pushed himself up on one elbow. ‘What question is it that you think I want to ask you?’

  ‘You’re really going to make me squirm, aren’t you, you irresponsible rogue?’ she cried impatiently.

  She pushed him back down again and softly ran her fingers beneath his shirt, touching the scars on his torso.

  ‘Don’t!’ he swivelled his body to one side. ‘You will be repelled. I’m repelled by the sight myself.’

  ‘You really don’t understand me at all.’

  Ignoring his renewed protests, she pushed his shirt upwards and ran the tips of her fingers along the line of his most prominent scar. ‘I can help you to make these less visible,’ she said in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘They were not well sutured, which is why there is so much scar tissue.’

  ‘I am told that I landed on a rock garden. Don’t remember much about it, but the priority at the time was for my leg. I don’t think anyone expected me to survive, so stitching up the cuts was hardly important, and was rudimentary at best.’

  ‘Well, it matters now.’ She dropped her head and ran her lips lightly along the scars to demonstrate her point, wondering if an alien being had taken her over and given her courage that she hadn’t been aware she possessed. Her actions were spontaneous, driven by a combination of instinct and determination to prove to Archie that there was absolutely nothing repellent about scars dishonourably come by.

  ‘You are remarkable.’ Archie let out a long breath which became a sigh as he stroked the back of her head. ‘No one has ever…’

  ‘I should hope not. Anyway, Archie, I think this proves that I am willing to become your mistress.’

  ‘Good God!’ He sat bolt upright and swore when pain gripped him anew. ‘Is that what you think I’ve been waiting to ask you?’

  ‘What else? And given that it’s what everyone else appears to think, it seems foolish to deny ourselves. I’m curious to know what happens, and the countess assured me that you would be a first-rate teacher,’ she said, blushing furiously.

  ‘Ah, sweet Flora! What am I to do with you?’

  ‘Now I’m just plain embarrassed and…’

  ‘That was not my intention.’

  He snaked a strong arm around her neck and pulled her face up to meet his. His eyes glowed with intensity as he slowly and firmly covered her lips in a deep, drugging kiss that robbed Flor
a of her senses.

  ‘I don’t want you for my mistress, my darling,’ he said, unguarded passion in his expression when he finally let her up for air. ‘I want you for my wife.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Archie cursed the interruption when Pawson loudly cleared his throat outside the door. Flora removed herself from the edge of his bed, her expression stunned.

  ‘Soup,’ Pawson said. ‘Beatrice’s orders.’

  ‘I will leave you to feed the grumpy patient,’ Flora said, gathering her wits. ‘I think he must have bumped his head when he fell. He’s talking complete nonsense.’

  ‘Not much change there then,’ Pawson replied cheerfully.

  ‘You will have to stay here tonight, Archie. We’ll keep cooling that leg, and you should be well enough to return to Felsham Hall in the morning.’ Her words came out fast, running together, and she seemed more interested in looking at Pawson that she did at him. Small wonder. He’d declared himself all wrong. ‘I must check on Melanie, but I’ll call in and change that dressing later. He’s strained the muscles and set himself back,’ she explained to Pawson, ’but he’ll recover. Probably.’

  ‘Probably?’ But Archie’s question was addressed to the door as it closed behind the woman whom he loved to distraction and whom he had just proposed to in the clumsiest possible way. No wonder she couldn’t leave the room fast enough.

  Archie drank his soup, then closed his eyes to avoid conversation with Pawson.

  When he opened them again it was dark but for one low lamp and he was alone in the room—or so he thought.

  ‘Ah, you’re awake.’ Flora rose gracefully from a chair in the corner of the room. The lamp was behind her, illuminating hair that fell to her waist in the absence of the pins that usually held it. Flora herself was dressed in a flimsy robe over her night attire. ‘How do you feel?’

  ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Past midnight. Everyone else is asleep. I sent Pawson to his bed and said I would watch over you for a while.’