Page 62 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
‘Yes, I know. My lawyers shall fight that battle and win it.’
His voice was fading. She said, penitently, ‘I beg your pardon, you should be resting.’
‘No, I am glad you have told me.’
She leaned her head against him. ‘I am so sorry this happened to you, Matt.’
‘Hush now, I have been in worse fixes than this. But no more for now.’
No more, ever.
Flora closed her eyes against the tears that threatened. She had no future with Matt Talacre. If she jilted the Viscount, he would tell the world she was the daughter of a French spy. She knew Quentin’s spiteful nature; he would also go out of his way to make sure Matt’s patrons knew her history. It would ruinhim and, even if he didn’t hate her for it, Flora would hate herself for destroying everything he had worked so hard to build.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The carriage rumbled on. Flora remained on the floor, Matt’s arm about her shoulders and the beat of his heart against her cheek. She must have dozed off, because she woke to find the landau had stopped. Outside was the noise and lights of a busy coaching inn and she quickly scrambled back on to the seat.
‘The King’s Head, I presume,’ said Matt. ‘Put up your hood and stay in the corner of the coach.’
The door opened and Jepps looked in. ‘We are at the inn, miss. Best you stay in the carriage and we’ll look after everything. We had a talk about it on the way here, me and Amos and your coachman. If Mr Talacre don’t object, we’ll say I’m his man and that we was attacked and our horses stolen. Your driver came past and took us up, but we’ll not say where he’s from and if you ain’t seen, then no one will be the wiser.’
‘Well done, man,’ said Matt. He had struggled to sit up and was holding his injured arm against his body. ‘That is pretty much what I was thinking.’
Jepps nodded. ‘Now to get you out, sir. Can you walk, if Amos and I help you?’
‘Aye. Step down and I’ll get myself to the door.’
Flora watched Matt climb to his feet and steady himself with a hand against the wall.
‘Thank you, for everything, Flora.’
‘What will you do?’ she asked, trying to put off the inevitable goodbye.
‘As soon as I can ride, I will go back to Bellemonte. A few days at most. Go home now, Flora.’ He bent and brushed his lips against her cheek. ‘Don’t worry, we shall come about.’
Silently she watched him struggle to the steps, where Amos and Jepps were waiting to help him down. Then all she could do was sit in the darkest corner of the carriage while they supported Matt across the busy yard.
* * *
It felt like hours before Amos returned. He opened the carriage door and examined the handle, as if looking for a fault.
‘All sorted, ma’am,’ he muttered, not looking in. ‘The landlord holds footpads responsible for the attack and we told him we was going Banbury way, so no reason for him to think anyone from Whilton is involved. And if we get a move on, we can have you home again by midnight, which won’t raise an eyebrow from the master and mistress now, will it?’
On these reassuring words, Amos slammed the doorand scrambled up on to his seat. They set off back out into the darkness and Flora settled herself more comfortably against the squabs, but sleep eluded her. Had the landlord believed the tale they had concocted? Would he send for a doctor to look after Matt? Then there was Jepps. He might take the chance to carry out the Viscount’s orders to kill Matt. Somehow, she did not believe he would do that, but she could not be sure. She had never felt so helpless!
Flora resolutely shut out all the questions, but that left her with the memory of Matt’s words and his parting kiss. A kiss that went all the way to her heart.
* * *
Thankfully, by the time Flora returned to Birchwood House, Mr and Mrs Farnleigh had retired and Betty was too drowsy to do more than help her mistress undress before returning to her own bed, so Flora was saved from any questions about her evening. At least for a while.
* * *
At breakfast, she responded to her aunt’s enquiry by saying the Viscount had invited Mr Talacre to dinner, but that he had left early.
‘Mr Talacre!’ exclaimed her uncle. ‘Now why should he do that?’
‘I believe there was some business they needed to discuss.’
