A Sense of Misgiving (Perceptions Book 3)

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A Sense of Misgiving (Perceptions Book 3) Page 13

by Wendy Soliman


  ‘Please remain seated, Lord Felsham. Miranda, good evening. How are you?’

  ‘Exceedingly well. You look lovely.’

  ‘The countess spoils me. I barely recognise myself nowadays.’

  ‘She is lucky to have you, and has the good sense to realise it,’ Miranda replied. ‘Who is the man clinging to Mary?’

  ‘Captain Redfern. He is a war hero and the lady with him is his sister Lucy Arnold. Lucy is Mary’s particular friend.’

  ‘Married, I assume,’ Lord Felsham remarked.

  ‘Yes, Lord Felsham, so you’re out of luck, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that. The married ones are usually less trouble.’

  Miranda and Flora pretended to be shocked.

  ‘I will introduce you, if you like,’ Flora said, ‘but I ought to warn you that you will be inviting trouble.’

  ‘Besides, she appears to have Luke in her sights,’ Miranda added, following the direction of Lucy’s gaze.

  Flora shrugged, trying not to show that she cared. Luke had mentioned his lack of interest in the woman, but she was attractive, and was making her availability plainly apparent. Lord Felsham had liked what he’d seen, and men, in her admittedly limited experience, tended not to be too discriminating in such circumstances.

  ‘The captain would like to be more to Mary than a friend,’ Miranda replied, ‘although he keeps glancing at you, Flora.’

  ‘I cannot think why. I have no interest in his brave exploits, and none whatsoever in him as a man. Besides, I suspect that he requires a wife who is both wealthy and handsome, which means Mary qualifies, and thankfully I do not.’

  ‘You do yourself an injustice, Miss Latimer.’ Lord Felsham demonstrated remarkably good manners by springing to her defence. ‘Any man with an ounce of sense would look at your more than once.’

  ‘Lord Felsham, such compliments will go to my head,’ Flora replied, laughing. ‘I am well aware of my shortcomings, and of my position within this household. And if I was not, you can be sure that Mrs Arnold would have the goodness to remind me.’

  ‘Unlike most females, compliments do not sway you, which is what sets you apart.’

  ‘Perhaps I realise that you are not sincere.’ Flora suppressed a smile. ‘Mrs Arnold would also tell you that I am out of place in this elegant room and have quite forgotten…well, my place.’

  Lord Felsham roared with laughter, drawing curious glances from those standing near them. ‘You wound me, Miss Latimer.’

  ‘Is my friend making an ass of himself as usual?’ Luke asked, joining them.

  ‘Not a bit of it. He’s being amusing and making us laugh.’

  ‘Which I would take satisfaction from,’ Lord Felsham replied, his eyes sparkling, ‘but for the fact that I was being sincere. You are a hard lady to compliment, Miss Latimer.’

  ‘Perhaps that is because I am no lady, sir.’

  Woodley, Luke’s butler, stepped into the room and announced with stately aplomb that dinner was served.

  ‘Excuse me, gentlemen. I must help the countess to table.’

  Flora left them to discharge her duties. She settled the dowager in her chair at the foot of the table, taking her customary place to her right, where she could ensure that she ate appropriately and didn’t over-imbibe. She couldn’t help glancing towards the other end of the table, wondering whom Luke had chosen to escort. She smiled when she saw the disappointment on young faces when he took Mrs Pearson in. Lucy Arnold looked mutinous on Sam’s arm. Lord Felsham hobbled in at the rear of the party and surprised Flora by asking permission to take the chair beside her.

  ‘By all means,’ she replied, ‘although I shall now be despised by all the single young ladies whom you have disappointed.’

  ‘Ha! This scallywag has been disappointing females for years,’ the countess said, making it clear that she knew who he really was. ‘He makes a sport of it.’

  Lord Felsham raised a brow. ‘It seems I am not nearly as convincing as I assumed,’ he said.

  ‘I have had your company inflicted upon me since you were in short coats. I am not as senile as my grandson likes to think.’ For once the countess kept her voice low. ‘Of course I know who you are.’ She picked up her spoon and gave her soup a vigorous stir. ‘Now, Flora, what are we going to do to separate my granddaughter from that fortune hunter?’

  ‘You do not approve of Captain Redfern, ma’am?’

  ‘Lord above, no. He’s entirely wrong for her.’

  Flora glanced down the table and caught Luke’s eye. She tilted her head in the direction of Mary and Redfern, seated together half way down the table. Mary laughed at something he had just said to her, causing Luke to scowl. She sensed Lord Felsham studying her with open curiosity. She had held Luke’s gaze for too long, she accepted, hastily turning away. She’d been mesmerised by the sight of his handsome features cast into light and shadow by dozens of candles. A little intoxicated by the elegant manner in which he wore his evening clothes, she briefly let her guard down and worried that the nature of her feelings might become apparent in her expression.

  It would take a great deal more than that to shock Lord Felsham, but even so Flora would prefer for him not to think that she had allowed herself to be seduced by Luke, tempting though that prospect was. That silent admission gave her pause. What had happened to the prim clergyman’s daughter who knew her place and never allowed salacious thoughts to occupy her mind? Well, in truth, that person had never actually existed, but she had learned to suppress her true nature and become adept at appearing to be what was expected of her. Now that such things were no longer necessary, she gloried in her newfound freedom of expression and the good fortune that had brought her to the countess’s notice.

  ‘Let her enjoy being courted, my lady,’ Flora said to the countess, who still awaited an answer to her original question. ‘I hear that is what most young ladies in Mary’s position secretly want. Being courted, flattered and admired, I mean. Mary’s a sensible girl and no lasting harm can come of it.’

  ‘What about you, Miss Latimer?’ Lord Felsham asked. ‘Are you one of the dashing captain’s admirers? You neatly avoided answering that question when I posed it earlier.’

  ‘Heavens, no! I know my place.’

  ‘Ha!’ the countess said loudly.

  ‘I am simply here to keep her ladyship amused,’ she said, smiling at her charge. ‘And believe me that is a full-time job.’

  ‘And not for the faint-hearted, I would imagine,’ he replied, also smiling at the countess.

  ‘Keep a civil tongue in your head, young man,’ the countess chided, no venom in her tone. She was a hopeless flirt despite her advanced years, and enjoyed the attentions of a handsome man. ‘Otherwise, I might be forced to tell the world the truth about you.’

  Lord Felsham laughed. ‘I am not afraid of you.’

  ‘Nor is the bible-basher’s daughter here.’ The countess pouted. ‘Young people are no fun at all nowadays. I find she is almost impossible to shock. Well she pretends to be, but I dare say she falls to her knees the moment she is alone to pray for my mortal soul. A little late for that, but there you have it. Anyway, when I was your age I used to visit Vauxhall Gardens regularly. It was the greatest possible fun.’

  ‘So you keep insisting, ma’am,’ Flora said, sharing a smile with Lord Felsham, ‘but when pressed for details you refuse to elaborate, leaving me to conclude that you must be a fraud.’

  ‘Not a bit of it. I simply don’t want to make you blush.’

  Flora swallowed a laugh. ‘And yet I am more than willing to risk blushing, if only to enhance my education in certain areas.’

  ‘You have met your match in this young lady, ma’am,’ Lord Felsham said, leaning back so that a footman could refill his wine glass. ‘No wonder you look so well.’

  ‘I am always well. Why will everyone insist that I am frail?’

  Flora shook her head, refrained from comment and concentrated her attention upon her turtle
soup.

  Chapter Nine

  Mary rather enjoyed being the centre of attention at the first party held in her honour, although she did wonder if that made her shallow. She especially enjoyed Captain Redfern’s society but sensed tension in the room. Lucy had disappointed her by making several unkind comments about Flora, which Mary thought both unnecessary and beneath her friend. She had tried to make Lucy understand that Flora’s circumstances were unusual, but that she was the sweetest person, wise beyond her years and the greatest possible fun. Lucy nodded, pretending to accept the explanation, but her own upbringing had been so very different to Mary’s, and it was important to her that everyone should know their place. Mary wanted to laugh at such absurdly outdated views.

  ‘My sister and I are thinking of taking an excursion to Swallow Hill on Monday, if the weather stays fine. It’s been years since I visited the top, but the views are extensive and the trees quite spectacular at this time of year.’ Captain Redfern smiled at Mary. ‘Can we persuade you to join our party?’

  Mary’s immediate reaction was to accept with enthusiasm, but something made her hesitate. ‘I shall have to ask my brother’s permission, but if that is forthcoming, then I shall be delighted.’

  ‘I hope the earl will not think the invitation inappropriate.’

  ‘I don’t imagine he will. I’ll speak with him and send word.’

  ‘Excellent!’

  The captain looked satisfied with that arrangement and changed the subject to literature.

  ‘When shall you return to your regiment?’ Mary asked, when they had exhausted the subject of the latest novel that had scandalised public opinion. Captain Redfern had thought it rather facile, but Mary had been shocked by its content and enjoyed it immensely. At one point, she would have kept that fact to herself for fear of being considered unenlightened, but Flora’s influence had taught her to have the courage of her convictions. Captain Redfern’s opinion was important to her, but if she disagreed with him, she was not about to pretend otherwise.

  ‘Alas, it is by no means certain that I shall continue with my career in the army. My leg has not properly healed and there are doubts that it ever will.’

  ‘I am very sorry to hear it,’ Mary said sympathetically. ‘That must be a torment for a man of action like yourself.’

  He played with the stem of his wineglass. ‘I consider myself luckier than those who didn’t come back at all.’

  ‘Of course.’ She moved aside so that Woodley could remove her soup plate. ‘What shall you do with yourself instead?’

  ‘I must decide upon an alternative career. I cannot abide being idle. The law holds a certain appeal, but nothing is decided yet. I am still talking to various people.’

  ‘The law is a noble and worthwhile profession. I should imagine that it would keep you fully occupied, so idleness will not be a consideration.’

  He smiled and Mary felt herself blush beneath his scrutiny. He changed the subject, and they discussed local affairs for the rest of the meal. He was well informed, an amusing raconteur, and the hour or more that they remained at table seemed more like five minutes. When her grandmother rose, the rest of the ladies stood with her, and the captain was on his feet in seconds, pulling back her chair. Every other man stood also, with the exception of Lord Felsham, whom Flora thoughtfully waved back to his chair when he attempted to struggle upright.

  ‘I look forward to rejoining you very shortly,’ the captain said, as Mary passed his position.

  Mary and Emma poured coffee for the rest of the ladies in the drawing room. When they had all been served, Mary joined her grandmother and Flora.

  ‘Are you enjoying yourself?’ Flora asked, smiling. ‘Silly question. I can see that you are quite enamoured with your handsome captain.’

  ‘I enjoy his company, it’s true, but enamoured is perhaps too strong a word. There’s something.’ She frowned. ‘I cannot quite put my finger on it. He is charming, and his manners are pristine, but sometimes there is…not bitterness in his expression, but something. Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps I am looking for faults where none exist.’ Mary paused. ‘He has asked me to join him and Lucy on an excursion to Swallow Hill on Monday. Have you ever been?’

  Flora shook her head. ‘I’ve never heard it mentioned, either.’

  ‘You can see over half of Wiltshire from its summit. I myself haven’t been for years.’

  ‘And I don’t suppose you will be interested in the view if you go with the captain.’

  ‘Flora!’ Mary giggled. ‘What a thing to suggest.’

  ‘Have a care, Mary. Take your time getting to know him. Your grandmother isn’t too impressed with him.’

  ‘Ah. I thought she might not be.’ Mary sighed. ‘He tells me that if he cannot return to soldiering then he might pursue a career in law.’

  ‘Does he have the necessary qualifications? One can no longer simply set oneself up as a barrister nowadays.’

  Mary shrugged. ‘I assume he must have, otherwise he would not be considering it.’

  ‘Or he might simply be trying to impress you.’

  ‘Yes, I am aware of that.’ Mary brightened. ‘Anyway, let us not be serious tonight. We are to have impromptu dancing, you know. I have engaged a couple of fiddlers to play for us, and as you can see, Woodley has had the furniture moved back and the rugs rolled up whilst we were at dinner.’

  ‘Then dance we all shall,’ Flora assured her, smiling and squeezing her hand.

  The gentlemen did not linger over their port, and as soon as they entered the drawing room, the fiddlers struck up a jig and the dancing began. Captain Redfern bowed in front of Mary.

  ‘Shall we risk it?’ he asked.

  He looked surprised when Mary shook her head. ‘Thank you, but your leg is hardly likely to withstand the rigors of a jig and I would not have you endure additional injuries on my account.’

  They watched as a protesting Flora was claimed by Sam. Luke stuck with Lord Felsham, not taking to the floor, but Lucy stood up with one of their neighbours.

  ‘I hate to prevent you from enjoying your own party.’

  ‘You will not. Ah, Paul.’ She smiled at her brother’s secretary when he approached her. ‘Do you mean to risk your toes by asking me to dance with you?’

  ‘I have total faith in your abilities.’

  ‘Excuse us, Captain Redfern. I have a feeling that Paul will live to regret his gallantry. Time will tell.’

  The captain bowed but did not look especially pleased to have Mary whipped away from him.

  ‘We have never danced together before,’ Mary remarked, as Paul held her firmly and twirled her through the jig.

  ‘I suppose the occasion has not arisen, otherwise I’m sure I would have asked you.’

  ‘Would you?’ Mary considered his response. ‘I always thought you looked upon me as an annoying younger sister.’

  The corners of Paul’s mouth curled indolently, and he seemed amused by the suggestion. ‘Hardly.’

  ‘You are full of surprises,’ she said. ‘I find that you are a talented enough artist to put my efforts to shame. Now I know that you are also an excellent dancer.’

  ‘I am glad you don’t have much to compare my efforts to.’ Paul twirled her around. ‘I don’t often bother with dancing, and I have likely forgotten everything I learned during those interminable lessons we boys were all forced to endure.’

  ‘You seem very competent to me.’

  ‘Is Redfern making a nuisance of himself?’ Paul asked in a casual fashion.

  ‘No, he’s being very attentive. I rather like him.’

  Paul nodded, looked as though he wanted to say something else, and then thought better of it.

  ‘What is it?’ Mary asked. ‘You don’t care for him?’

  ‘I don’t know him—and anyway it isn’t for me to approve or disapprove of your choice of friends. It’s just that…well, I wouldn’t want to see you being exploited.’

  ‘You think the attraction is my money?


  ‘I think that any man who looked upon you only as a means of getting his hands on your fortune would have to be blind and incredibly stupid.’

  Mary widened her eyes. ‘Why Paul, you look very fierce all of a sudden.’

  ‘Do I?’ He shrugged. ‘Well, you know me, I am suspicious by nature. But thankfully it’s Luke job to decide if the man’s worthy of your regard.’

  Mary bridled. ‘I think I might have a say in that regard.’

  ‘Of course. Sorry. I’ve upset you.’

  ‘No.’ Mary let out a long sigh. ‘Flora doesn’t like him much, either. Well, she hasn’t exactly said so, but I can tell she doesn’t approve. And his sister, my friend Lucy, was quite impolite about Flora. I cannot understand why. To the best of my knowledge Flora has never caused her any harm.’

  Paul chuckled, not looking surprised by Lucy’s reaction. ‘Flora is a unique individual. I don’t suppose Lucy knows quite what to make of her.’

  Mary tilted her head and looked up at Paul’s handsome features in a contemplative fashion. ‘I wish you would say what you are thinking, or what you know, rather than what you think I would like to hear. I am no longer a child.’

  ‘No,’ he said softly, tightening the arm that supported her waist. ‘You most definitely are not.’

  ‘Then tell me why you suppose Flora has caused Lucy offence.’

  ‘Your friend envies Flora her intimacy with this family,’ Paul said. ‘Flora is not classically beautiful in the way that you and your friend Lucy Arnold are—’

  ‘Why, thank you, Paul. I had no idea you looked upon me as being beautiful. I am not, of course. It’s a complete nonsense. I am more than realistic regarding my appearance. Lucy, however, is quite lovely.’

  ‘There is more to beauty than meets the eye, which is the point I’m trying to make. Flora has an indefinable something about her that sets her apart. She is outspoken yet genuine, and cares deeply for the people she loves. Ladies with her strength of character are bound to earn the disapproval of the Lucy Arnolds of this world.’

  Mary frowned. ‘You make is sound as though Lucy dislikes competition.’

 

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