Page 67 of A Sense of Misgiving
She read late into the night, until the words blurred in front of her eyes and ceased to make sense. She had scoured the diaries that related to the time of her grandfather’s death, but nothing out of the ordinary had jumped out at her other than a passing reference to his demise.
Flora paused. That was odd, but presumably Grandmamma had been too distraught with grief to elaborate. She threw the journal aside with a frustrated sigh, emotionally overwrought, and rubbed her tired eyes. She must have missed something hidden there in her grandmother’s neat hand. Either that or there was nothing to find, and her father’s only resolve had been to get his hands on her financial inheritance. She dismissed that possibility with a weary shake of her head. Although a great deal to her, the amount was too small to warrant her father going to so much trouble.
Flora was too exhausted to go over the journals again tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough. She prepared herself for bed, slid between the sheets and was asleep in seconds.
*
Luke spent most of the evening alone in his library, considering his sister’s narrow escape and attempting to suppress his seething anger. He worked his way down the whisky decanter, convinced that Lucy Arnold was quite mad and wishing his gentle sister Mary had not been the manipulated in her spiteful quest for revenge. He said so aloud.
‘One of the travails of being an authority figure,’ Paul, slumped in a chair across from him and helping him deal with the whisky, remarked. ‘I was there, remember. I saw the way Lucy went out of her way to attract you when we were all young and too stupid to exercise caution, but you never did anything to make her suppose she’d succeeded.’
‘I wasn’t careful enough in those days.’
‘You were reckless, certainly, but what person in your situation would not have been?’
Luke sent Paul a dour look. ‘We all sowed our wild oats, except you, my friend. You’ve always been sensible.’
Paul flipped a wrist. ‘Yes well, I was the only one without a wealthy and influential parent to bail me out of trouble.’
‘The burdens placed on a younger son.’
‘Something like that.’
Luke refilled their glasses.
‘Mary is dining upstairs with Flora and your grandmother, I’m told,’ Paul remarked into the ensuing silence.
‘Good. They will take her out of herself and help her recover her spirits.’ Luke took a long swig of his refreshed drink. ‘I hope Mary being targeted twice in quick succession by fortune-hunters does not damage her spirit, but if anyone can make her see that it was not her fault then Flora, with her pragmatism and sound common-sense, is best placed to do it.’
‘Mary’s a level-headed girl. She’ll recover and learn to be more cautious in future. She just needs time, and I dare say Flora will help her, so stop dwelling upon Lucy bloody Arnold. You did absolutely nothing to encourage her expectations intentionally. And even if you did, you wouldn’t be the first man to fall for a pretty face, bestow the woman with too much attention before getting to know her better and then having a change of heart. There’s nothing dishonourable about that. You didn’t declare yourself, or give her any reason to suppose that you would. The woman’s delusional if she thinks she’s been badly treated.’
‘All true enough, but actually I wasn’t thinking about her. I was thinking about Redfern. I should have pressed him and found out how he came to pass that rumour of the gambling debt—and murder for that matter—on to Flora’s father. That was more than just a coincidence, which worries me.’ He scrubbed a hand down his tired face, his fingers catching on his bristled chin. ‘She needs to know for her own peace of mind, and find out what it is that he doesn’t want her to stumble across in her grandmother’s possessions. We are all vulnerable while Latimer has the power to instigate a whispering campaign against us.’
‘Flora needs to read whatever her grandmother left her in her own time. It will be emotional. She tells me she was attached to the old lady.’
‘I should offer to help.’
‘The best thing you can do is give her some distance. She has a lot to cope with, and this is something she has to do alone.’
‘Right.’ Luke sighed. ‘What a damned mess.’
‘You need a distraction. A visit to Sussex is long overdue,’ Paul remained him, speaking of a manor house with about fifty acres that formed a part of the Beranger family’s properties. The steward who oversaw its upkeep had been pressing Luke for some time to call in. There were decisions required that only he could make.
‘I can’t leave Mary—’
‘Don’t be an idiot. You’re the last person she needs. She already feels guilty enough for not taking her maid with her when you specifically told her that she must. Take yourself off for a few days. You need some breathing space to make sense of things too. I’ll make sure Mary’s all right.’
Paul sent Luke a significant look and he immediately understood his friend’s subtext. Lucy had bandied accusations about Luke’s attachment to Flora, and he knew there was an element of truth to Lucy’s claims. If she had noticed, others would have done so, too. Did Flora harbour expectations? Had he unintentionally given her reason to believe that he looked upon her as anything more than a trusted employee and friend? Was it a repeat of the way he had treated Lucy?
Luke shook his head, aware that he thought more fondly of Flora than he ever had of Lucy, equally aware of the obstacles that would have to be overcome, the eyebrows that would be raised, if his interest in Flora became serious. Paul was right, as always. He needed to take a few days away from Beranger Court and think things through.
‘If Flora finds anything in her grandmother’s papers and I am not here…’
‘You can’t be all things to all people, Luke,’ Paul replied, an irritated edge to his voice. ‘This is a matter for her to settle with her father. You can’t do that for her, not unless she asks you to. She has a lot to handle. She needs time, too.’
‘Very well,’ he said, stretching his arms above his head. ‘I’ll take the train up to London tomorrow, spend the night in the London house and then go on to Sussex.’
‘I think that would be wise,’ Paul said softly.
