Page 9 of A Scandalous Proposition
And she was well aware that she owed him one. Well…several actually. But how much to tell him?
Florentina had lain awake most of the night in the chamber next to Christine’s, using the intervening period to ponder upon her difficulties. She’d not been able to avoid hearing Christine’s bright laughter and the sound of his lordship’s deep, rumbling voice. His frequent expressions of pleasure as Christine exhorted him to reach his pinnacle on more occasions than she would have imagined any one man capable of achieving during the course of a single night. As she listened, a feeling of acute loneliness had washed over her and she wished she could have been the recipient of his arduous lovemaking. Such thoughts came as a shock. She’d not previously been aware that she missed the physical side of her marriage. Merely the man himself.
This time Florentina had known in advance that she would be meeting Lord Fitzroy, much as she might prefer to avoid the encounter altogether. Her nerves were in tatters as a consequence, which had made her clumsy as she prepared for the showdown that would expose her as a fraud. Her regard for the dowager was genuine so she would regret losing her position almost as much as she would hate causing that lady further distress.
Florentina wore a demure morning gown of blue dimity with a high neckline and long sleeves. It was too large and hung from her frame without drawing attention to her figure. She’d braided her hair tightly and coiled it on top of her head in a style that didn’t flatter, to make herself look less like the courtesan his lordship supposed her to be.
When his lordship continued to focus chilly eyes upon her but didn’t immediately say anything, Florentina let out an inaudible sigh of relief. She was living on borrowed time. She knew that very well and would use it to try to mend a few fences with her grace’s handsome son. Show herself to him in a better light.
‘Adam.’ The dowager, catching sight of his scowling countenance, appeared perplexed. ‘This is my very great friend and companion, Mrs Florentina Grantley.’
Florentina curtsied, suspecting that her relief must be plain when his lordship inclined his head very slightly in her direction.
‘Mrs Grantley,’ he said through tightly pursed lips.
‘Come and sit beside me, Tina, and tell me how you found things in Kent. Mrs Grantley has just this morning returned from a visit to an ailing aunt in that county. You were so precipitous with your call upon me this morning, Adam, that she’s not yet had an opportunity to tell me what misfortunes awaited her there.’
‘I see.’
‘Indeed, I’m surprised to see you back so soon, Tina. Surprised but delighted, of course. You could hardly have had time to arrive before turning ’round and coming straight back again. I do hope you didn’t cut your visit short on my account.’
‘I found my aunt greatly recovered, I thank you, ma’am. And since my cousin was able to get away after all, she insisted upon removing Mrs Watson directly to Bath. She’s convinced that the spa waters will aid her recovery.’ Florentina was conscious of his lordship’s eyes burning with contempt as she spun this fiction and felt herself blushing beneath his scrutiny. ‘And I dare say she’s right about that.’
‘You have relations in England, Mrs Grantley? I thought my mother mentioned that you are Spanish.’
‘Yes, I am. Mrs Watson is my late husband’s aunt.’ At least that was no falsehood. ‘When my husband was killed, I returned to England and she was kind enough to take me in.’ Florentina felt the familiar sadness wash through her as she dwelt upon the nature of her brave husband’s untimely passing. ‘And here I am.’
‘A circumstance for which I am truly grateful.’ The dowager patted her hand.
‘You followed the drum, Mrs Grantley?’
‘Yes.’
‘I see.’
His lordship had nothing further to say on the matter and pointedly turned his head to stare out of the window instead. The conversation stuttered because of his disinclination to keep it flowing, and Florentina could see that her grace was disconcerted by his lack of manners. She was clearly not accustomed to seeing him behave so boorishly, and her eyes flitted in confusion between them. When he stood up a mere ten minutes later and informed his mother that he would return to the Court to see his brother, she didn’t try to detain him.
‘Tina, my dear, if you’re not too fatigued perhaps you’d have the goodness to call upon Mrs Phillips in the village. I had Boyle take a basket of vegetables to the stables and ordered the gig to be prepared. Mrs Phillips has been suffering from swollen joints and can’t get about,’ she explained, linking her arm through her son’s as she escorted him to the door. ‘Since she brought all seven of you into this world, I hold her in high esteem and don’t like to think of her not feeling quite the thing.’
‘I shall be delighted to call upon her, ma’am,’ Florentina said.
‘Excellent. Adam, perhaps you’ll escort Florentina to the stables.’
‘With pleasure.’ But his tone indicated that he would derive anything but pleasure from her society.
Florentina’s heart quailed at the prospect of a private interview with Lord Fitzroy. She would give much to delay that unpleasant necessity until she felt more equal to facing his intrusive questions. However, it would be as well to clear the air between them straight away. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point, and if his lordship meant to denounce her, then she would prefer to know it at once and prepare to face the consequences.
Lord Fitzroy kissed his mother and offered his arm to Florentina with an exaggerated flourish. Judging from her grace’s satisfied smile, she mistook the gesture for gallantry. Florentina knew he was merely being sarcastic. She reluctantly placed her hand on his sleeve and they walked away from the dower house side by side.
‘I confess to being at a loss about how to address you,’ he said, as soon as they were clear of the building. ‘Tell me, do I refer to you as Mrs Smith, Florentina or Mrs Grantley?’ His caustic tone made her knees start quaking again. He was obviously even angrier than she’d at first realised, presumably because he’d kept his temper under control in his mother’s presence. ‘Areanyof those names yours by right?’
‘Of course, I?’
‘Speaking personally, I must profess to a preference for Mrs Smith. It so lacks imagination that one is almost tempted to believe it must be genuine. I mean to say,’ he added, waving his free arm about to emphasise his point, ‘any accomplished liar, and I have good reason to know that I’m currently in the company of one, might reasonably be expected to come up with something more original.’
His eyes, flat and hard, fell contemptuously upon her face. She attempted to snatch her hand away from his arm but his other hand came down on top of it and held it firmly in place.
‘My name is Mrs Maria Florentina Grantley.’ She gave up the uneven struggle to reclaim her hand. With a rebellious toss of her head she reminded herself that she deserved his derision and mustnotretaliate, no matter how much he goaded her. ‘Previously Maria Florentina Sanchez-Vallez of Saragossa.’
