Page 43 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
He said, ‘Aye, ’twas a very pleasant interlude, Miss Warenne, and hopefully no one will ever know of it. You will go back and marry your Viscount; I will continue to manage Bellemonte. Our paths will not cross again.’
‘And the statue of Ares?’
‘It will be returned to Bellemonte, but I shall leave any future negotiations to the lawyers.’
She nodded. ‘I sincerely hope you are successful.’
They had reached the gates and Matt stopped.
‘It is but a few steps from here to the hotel. You had best go alone. I will watch you, all the way. To make sure you are safe.’
‘Thank you.’ She hesitated, then said in a rush, ‘It was foolish of me to come here. Naive. And yet, I do not regret it. Any of it.’
She was gazing at him, her eyes shining with tears, and a faint, brave smile trembling on her lips. It took every ounce of Matt’s willpower not to drag her back into his arms.
‘Goodbye, Flora. Be happy with your Viscount.’
Without a word she hurried off, the black domino floating about her, giving the impression that she was some ethereal creature, gliding across the square. Matt watched her until she disappeared into the lighted portal of the hotel, then with a sigh he turned and strode back into the gardens.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘Well, my dear, I have had a letter today from Lord Whilton,’ said Mr Farnleigh, beaming at Flora across the dinner table. ‘He will be with us again this week. Is that not capital news?’
Flora looked up quickly. ‘But the midsummer ball is not until next Wednesday!’
‘He has completed his business and will be back at Whilton Hall by Friday.’ He beamed at her. ‘That will put the roses back in your cheeks, eh, my dear?’
‘Just what I was thinking,’ said Aunt Farnleigh. ‘You have been looking decidedly peaky since you returned from Hotwell House. It was very good of you to go with Jenny Albright, my love, but really, for you to put up in the Hotwell House, filled with the sick and dying, cannot have been good for you.’
‘We were in no danger at all, Aunt,’ replied Flora, smiling. ‘Those taking the waters are in the main elderly and infirm, but not infectious. And Jenny was soglad to see her godmother. Mrs Boscombe was considerably cheered by her visit.’
Flora had felt very guilty for leaving her friend to visit her ailing godmother alone, as she had been at pains to tell Jenny when the carriage came to collect her from Bellemonte, early on the Friday morning.
Jenny had been equally quick to assure her there was nothing she could have done.
‘I spent every hour I could with Aunt Elvira and was fit for nothing but to fall into bed each night. You would have been obliged to amuse yourself for the whole time. I am sure you were much better off at Bellemonte.’
As to that, thought Flora, moving her food around her plate, her visit to Bellemonte had solved nothing. She realised now that it had been a foolish, fruitless outing, born of her desire to escape Whilton, just for a while.
She had gone to the gardens at Whilton Hall and seen the marks on the statue for herself and she was convinced it was indeed from Bellemonte. But what good did it do? She could not explain that to Quentin without telling him of her visit to Gloucestershire and she dared not do that, because she had embroiled others in her deceit. Not only was Jenny complicit in the secret, but her maid, Maria, as well as Betty and Edwin.
Flora had known all three servants for years. Theyhad accompanied Jenny and Flora on many of their childhood picnics and outings, mended their torn gowns, bathed grazed knees and mopped up their tears. They had often covered up the childish misdeeds of their young charges, but Flora knew that this secret was quite another matter and she had charged them all that, if asked directly, they must not lie to their employers. The decision to go to Bellemonte had been hers and hers alone. She would take full responsibility, if word should get out, and do her best to defend them.
Flora could not believe that her aunt and uncle, or Mr and Mrs Albright, would turn off such old retainers who had had no choice but to obey orders, but still guilt weighed down her spirits. She had heard nothing so far to suggest anyone in Whilton knew of her visit to Bellemonte and she could only hope that nothing occurred to change that.
Mr Farnleigh cleared his throat. ‘I believe, my dear Flora, that the Viscount’s decision to cut short his time in town is a sign of his affection for you.’
‘I should believe that more readily if he had informedmeof the decision, sir!’ she said, finally giving up on her meal.
Aunt Farnleigh tutted. ‘Hush now, Flora. It is only proper that he should write to your guardian.’
‘It is positively medieval!’
‘Ah, now we know the cause of Flora’s malaise,’ her uncle chuckled. ‘She is moping for her sweetheart.’
She blushed at that, but thought it best not to protest.
Lord Whilton was not the man who featured in her dreams each night, or who occupied her thoughts for most of her waking hours. Since returning from Bellemonte she had not been able to get Matt Talacre out of her head. She could not forget their final meeting, or the kiss they had shared. She could not forget the feel of his lips on hers, his arms about her. At night she was a prey to dreams where she was lying with him, their naked limbs tangling, and she would wake, trembling in the darkness, her body aching with desire so overpowering she wanted to weep.
