Page 11 of A Sense of Misgiving
‘I once had something like it, given to me by some gentleman or other,’ the countess said. ‘Certainly not your grandfather. I have no idea where it is now. I dare say someone or other stole it.’
Flora shook her head. The countess had a case full of jewellery, all of which was itemised and dated according to the time of its acquisition. None of it had been stolen.
‘It’s lovely, Mary. Your brother is very generous, but it is no more than you deserve.’
Sam greeted his grandmother and fetched her the much-anticipated glass of sherry to relieve her dry throat.
‘I don’t suppose he did more than pay for it,’ Mary replied in a quiet aside to Flora as she held her wrist up so that the sapphires sparkled, reflecting the light back at her. ‘Paul would have sought it out, but I don’t bear Luke any ill-will. He has so many more important things to occupy his time. And there is to be a party to celebrate my birthday on Saturday. I can invite whomsoever I wish.’
Flora squeezed her hand. ‘And you can tell me later who that will be,’ she replied, aware of Luke’s gaze resting upon them as they chatted. He looked preoccupied, and Flora wondered what thoughts were distracting him.
‘You have already guessed that there is someone I would most particularly like to invite,’ she said, her eyes threatening to outshine the sapphires on her wrist. ‘How is that possible? We have barely exchanged a private word since my return.’
‘Nothing could be easier,’ Flora replied, squeezing her hand. ‘You look as though you have been lit up from within. Don’t ever feel tempted to take up gambling, Mary. You are hopeless at bluffing.’
‘I don’t suppose anything will come of it. I am not even sure if I want matters to develop.’ Mary looked momentarily uncertain. ‘I don’t know when or if I shall see him again. Besides, he may not wish to pursue the acquaintance.’
‘If he does not, he is not worth knowing.’
‘Anyway, I shall be fully occupied now, learning to act as Luke’s hostess. Emma did it so well, which makes it even more important for me not to fail him.’
‘Of course you will not fail. It’s inbred. You have been absorbing manners and mores since the cradle. It will be good practise for when you have your own household to run.’
Mary waved the possibility aside. ‘I don’t think that will happen anytime soon.’
Flora just smiled, thinking that Mary underestimated her charms. She was not as handsome as her sister Emma, but she had developed her own style and character just in the short time that Flora at been resident in Beranger Court. With Emma now married and settled elsewhere, Mary must find her own way, and Flora would help her as much as she could. With only her eccentric grandmother’s example to follow, it seemed prudent to offer a guiding hand as far as her own limited experience of society permitted. Flora would certainly know if the gentleman who had attracted Mary’s interest returned her regard, and would find a way to warn her if he was pursuing her purely for financial gain.
They went through to dinner, where the countess was on excellent form, keeping the family in fits of laughter with exaggerated tales of her youth. No one believed a word she said, but Flora sensed their pleasure whenever she felt well enough to behave outrageously.
The countess tired quickly and did not linger downstairs for long after the meal ended. Flora retired early, too. She would not presume to remain with the family once her charge had herself gone to bed. But she wasn’t tired, and lay awake for a long time staring up at the bed’s canopy, worrying about her father’s intentions. She concentrated hard, hoping that her senses would lend her further clues. But nothing jumped out at her and she eventually fell into a restless sleep.
The countess seemed crotchety the following morning, and more than usually argumentative. Flora knew that the previous evening had exhausted her, exacerbating the aches and pains she refused to admit to. The weather was dull, with a persistent drizzle, ruling out their usual morning walk.
‘I shall make up your tincture, my lady, then read to you.’
The countess flapped her hand. ‘Do whatever you must.’
Which was, Flora knew, the closest she would ever come to admitting that Flora’s cures offered her some relief. The old lady drank the potion without her customary complaint and settled down with her cat on her lap while Flora read aloud from the latest popular novel,Little Women. Her ladyship’s eyelids had slipped shut before Flora completed the first chapter. She set the book aside and collected a rug which she managed with some manipulation to place across her knees without dislodging Zeus, and then continued reading silently for her own enjoyment.
Sandwell appeared at the usual time with the countess’s mid-morning cup of hot chocolate. Flora held a finger to her lips to indicate that Sandwell should remain silent, but the sound of the door opening and the smell of chocolate roused the old lady.
‘What?’ she grumbled. ‘What are you two whispering about?’
‘Neither of us spoke, ma’am.’
‘Well, you are no good to me if you have nothing entertaining to say for yourselves.’ The countess pointed a gnarled finger at Flora. ‘Go about your own business and come back this afternoon. I have no use for you at present. And do something about your hair. It’s fallen half down yet again.’
Flora smiled, apologised for her appearance, closed her book and tucked it under her arm. It had engaged her attention and she wanted to know what happened next. ‘I shall see you later, then. If the weather improves, we might still take a short walk. The fresh air will revive you.’
‘You and your fresh air. Never saw the point of it myself.’
Worried by how easily the countess tired nowadays and wondering if there was anything else she could do to remedy that situation, Flora decided to consult her grandmother’s notes on herbal remedies as soon as she returned to her room. Thinking about a possible combination of cat’s claw and ginger root, she took no notice of where she was going and almost walked straight into Paul.
‘Oh, I beg your pardon,’ she said, flustered. ‘I was miles away.’
‘How is the countess today?’
‘Unusually tired, which is what I was so preoccupied about.’
