Page 57 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
‘Such haste!’ The Viscount looked pained. ‘My dear sir, surely we should discuss the matter first.’
‘There is nothing to discuss. You have seen my letter and the evidence. It is quite clear cut. You have only to agree and I will reimburse you for what you paid and arrange for the statue to be removed.’
The Viscount listened with a faint, supercilious smile on his face.
‘And yet,’ he purred, turning his wineglass between his hands, ‘and yet, Mr Talacre, I am minded to refuse.’
‘You would prefer a long and costly legal case?’
The Viscount sneered. ‘You see, I do not think you could bear the expense.’
‘I believe I can.’ For a long moment they eyed one another across the table. ‘Is that your final word on the matter, Lord Whilton?’
‘I believe it is.’
‘Very well.’ Matt rose. ‘I shall take my leave.’
‘Oh?’ The Viscount sat up. ‘What, sir, will you not stay and take brandy with me?’
‘I will not.’
‘But the ladies are waiting for us to join them.’
‘Then pray give them my apologies. Goodbye, my lord. My lawyers will be in touch.’
Matt left the room, cursing himself for a fool. Thismatter could have been settled weeks ago if he had not given Whilton the benefit of the doubt. He knew his hesitation was in part down to Flora Warenne. He paused in the hall, glancing towards the thin strip of light shining at the top and bottom of the drawing room door. He had thought…
No! He almost snatched his greatcoat from the servant waiting at the door and shrugged himself into it. Flora was going to marry Lord Whilton. Time to put her out of his head. Completely.
He picked up his hat and gloves and headed out into the courtyard. At least the rain had ceased and the sky was clearing: he should make the journey back to the Red Lion before it was completely dark.
* * *
In the drawing room, Mrs Gask was sitting quietly on a settee with her embroidery while Flora paced back and forth, unable to settle. Through the latticed windows small patches of moonlight lightened the sky. The storm had passed. She heard the thud of the outer door and quickly went out to the entrance hall, where she addressed a servant sitting by the small window.
‘Has someone gone out?’
‘Why, yes, ma’am. Mr Talacre.’
Flora paused only long enough to order her carriage before turning on her heel and hurrying back to the dining room. She entered without ceremony andsaw the Viscount lounging back in his chair, a glass of brandy in his hand.
‘Why did you invite him, Quentin?’
‘Invite whom, my dear?’
‘Mr Talacre.’
‘It amused me.’ He turned his head and gave her a malicious smile. ‘I thought it would amuse you, too. The man has developed a tendre for you.’
Flora was too angry to blush. ‘If that is the case, then it was unkind to taunt him.’
‘The man is an upstart. He deserved to be cut down a little. I wanted to show him he could not have you. Or that wretched stone figure. It was the knowledge that I will not part with the statue that caused him to leave so abruptly, you know. I hope you aren’t heartbroken; I know you have quite a liking for the man. In fact,’ he said, rising from the table, ‘I think you might be more than a little in love with him.’
He was smiling and she stared at him, repelled by the cruel streak that made him revel in the misfortunes of others.
‘You know I do not love you, Quentin. I cannot understand why you should still want to marry me.’
He put a finger beneath her chin, obliging her to look up.
