Page 7 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
Flora was surprised to see they had reached the point where she had joined the lane to Whilton Hall. She was even more surprised when she heard the words that came, unchecked, out of her mouth.
‘It is as quick for me to continue this way,’ she explained, shocked at her brazen behaviour, ‘I shall walk with you back to the road. That is, if you do not object,’
‘Not at all,’ he replied. ‘Let us walk on.’
Flora accompanied him, feeling more than a little dazed. She had only encouraged the man to talk about his gardens as a way to avoid any awkwardness, but she had soon become intrigued by his plans for Bellemonte. His anecdotes of the restoration and his early errors were relayed with a dry humour that made her laugh, but she had fully intended to bid him a polite farewell when they reached the gate. Instead, she had elected to walk on with him. He must think her very forward!
‘Then you are wise to take this route,’ he said, as ifreading her mind. ‘The sun will be setting soon and you will wish to be home before dark.’
‘Yes.’
‘And whereishome?’
It was an innocent enough question, but he would not be asking it if she had not shown herself foolishly eager for his company. Flora knew she must show more restraint.
‘Birchwood House. I live there with my aunt and uncle. Mr and Mrs Farnleigh.’
‘And your parents?’
‘My mother and father are both dead.’
‘Oh, I am sorry.’
She thought him sincere and went on, ‘It was sixteen years ago, a carriage accident. They were on their way to France, during the Treaty of Amiens, when their carriage overturned.’
‘You were not with them?’
‘No, they had left me with Mr and Mrs Farnleigh. Thankfully, my aunt and uncle were happy to offer me a permanent home after the accident. I am very fortunate; they treat me like their own daughter.’
‘Warenne,’ he said slowly. ‘Is that a French name?’
‘No. At least, not for centuries. My father was English and my mother Irish.’ She glanced at him. ‘Did the war give you a dislike of the French?’
‘Only those who tried to kill me. Or the one whostole my life’s savings. Only that happened to be a woman.’
‘A woman!’
‘Yes.’ He shrugged. ‘I should have known better. It was in the Peninsula, the widow of a French captain. I found her defending herself from our Spanish allies and I took her under my protection. Damned fool that I was.’
He fell silent, abstracted, as if he had forgotten her.
‘Will you tell me what happened?’ Flora blushed. ‘I beg your pardon, that was very forward of me.’
He hesitated and she went on, ‘I am no ingenue, sir. At six-and-twenty I think I have learned something of what goes on in the world.’
‘I was about your age when I met her, but it didn’t make me any wiser. She was very grateful, or so I thought. I asked her to marry me, she agreed and the next town we came to I bought her a ring. Then I gave her my purse to buy herself some new clothes and a few luxuries for our lodgings. That was the last I saw of her.’
‘She ran away?’ Flora’s anger made her fingers curl into claws.
‘Aye, but that wasn’t the worst of it. She found her way back to a French regiment and passed on everything she knew about my regiment, our troop numbers, position and the route we were taking. They took us by surprise a few days later. Two dozen good menkilled because I was fool enough to trust a treacherous woman.’
‘I am so very sorry. Not only for the loss of those men, but for your pain. You cared for her.’
He shrugged. ‘Good thing, really. It reminded me that I am not the marrying sort.’
‘Not even for love?’
He laughed. ‘Definitely not for love!’
