Page 79 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
‘Neither Father nor my brother Charles had much interest in ancestry,’ she said, uncertainly.
But the Viscount ignored her and was already addressing Flora.
‘Look, do you see? Two lions passant. The arms of William the Conqueror!’
His reverential tone made Flora want to mock him, but she fought down the impulse and said merely, ‘I did not think he was one of my ancestors.’
‘No, no, most likely not,’ he went on, looking intently at his new acquisition. ‘The lions are also the symbol of Normandy; a fitting match for the lion rampant of the Gasks, my dear.’
An awkward silence fell, ending only when the butler came in and Mrs Gask raised her querulous voice to say, ‘Shall we all go in to dinner?’
Flora was grateful for her aunt and uncle’s efforts to make conversation in the dining room. For her own part, she was glad to be sitting close enough to Mrs Gask to talk to her. She felt sorry for the poor lady, brought to Whilton whenever Quentin needed a hostess. She knew the widow had rooms in the Viscount’s house in Ipswich and, from the little conversation they had, she was able to glean that Mrs Gask enjoyed the town far more than the country.
‘I hope you will come to stay with us when we are in London,’ said Flora. ‘We could visit the theatre together.’
‘London!’ The lady looked startled. ‘Oh, no—you will be making your curtsy at Court.’
‘Yes, but when the Viscount and I visit the capital after that, I should very much like to have your company.’
‘But you will not be going to—that is, I mean, I will gladly join you here at Whilton, if you wish. My cousin intends that you should make your home here.’
‘Of course, but I shall not be here all the time! I must acquaint myself with the Viscount’s other properties and naturally, we will go to London to enjoy the entertainments there.’ She laughed. ‘I am looking forward to visiting the museums and theatres as much as shopping and going to balls.’
Mrs Gask continued to look horrified and Flora’s nerves prickled uneasily. She glanced towards the head of the table, where Quentin was engaged in conversation with her uncle, then turned back to Mrs Gask.
‘Does Quentin plan to keep me prisoner here?’ she asked her, bluntly.
‘A prisoner? Dear me, no.’ The widow’s laugh was unconvincing and she was almost squirming in her chair. ‘How ridiculous, Miss Warenne!’
The widow jumped as the Viscount suddenly rapped on the table. ‘What are you saying to Miss Warenne, Cousin? Pray tell us all.’
‘We were talking of London, my lord,’ said Flora. ‘I have invited Mrs Gask to join us there for a few weeks,to relieve you from the tedium of accompanying me to all the museums and galleries I intend to see.’
She watched him carefully and observed the faint signs of annoyance flicker across his countenance.
‘My dear Flora, there will be plenty of time to make plans once we are wed. Now, I believe my cousin is about to carry you ladies away to the drawing room.’
‘Oh, yes, yes, of course.’ Mrs Gask rose hurriedly. ‘Mrs Farnleigh, Miss Warenne…?’
The ladies followed their hostess to the door, but as Flora passed the Viscount’s chair, he put out his hand and caught her wrist.
‘We will talk about future plans later,’ he said softly. ‘Between ourselves. It is not something to be discussed with my cousin.’
He was smiling, but his eyes were ice-cold. Flora felt again the familiar chill trickle down her spine. She breathed slowly, schooling herself to speak calmly.
‘As you wish, Quentin.’
Satisfied she had understood him, he released her. By the time Flora reached the door the other ladies were already disappearing into the drawing room and as she walked across the hall to join them, she saw a fair-haired figure hovering in the shadow of the staircase.
‘Mrs Goole.’ She stopped and waited.
The housekeeper hesitated, then came closer, hands folded before her.
‘Yes, ma’am? Is there anything you want?’
The light from the windows was sufficient to see that the woman was nervous, but she glared defiantly at Flora, who sighed.
‘Mrs Goole, I don’t think this is what either of uswant, but—’
