Page 38 of A Sense of Misgiving
‘Captain Redfern. He is a war hero and the lady with him is his sister Lucy Arnold. Lucy is Mary’s particular friend.’
‘Married, I assume,’ Lord Felsham remarked.
‘Yes, Lord Felsham, so you’re out of luck, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that. The married ones are usually less trouble.’
Miranda and Flora pretended to be shocked.
‘I will introduce you, if you like,’ Flora said, ‘but I ought to warn you that you will be inviting trouble.’
‘Besides, she appears to have Luke in her sights,’ Miranda added, following the direction of Lucy’s gaze.
Flora shrugged, trying not to show that she cared. Luke had mentioned his lack of interest in the woman, but she was attractive, and was making her availability plainly apparent. Lord Felsham had liked what he’d seen, and men, in her admittedly limited experience, tended not to be too discriminating in such circumstances.
‘The captain would like to be more to Mary than a friend,’ Miranda replied, ‘although he keeps glancing at you, Flora.’
‘I cannot think why. I have no interest in his brave exploits, and none whatsoever in him as a man. Besides, I suspect that he requires a wife who is both wealthy and handsome, which means Mary qualifies, and thankfully I do not.’
‘You do yourself an injustice, Miss Latimer.’ Lord Felsham demonstrated remarkably good manners by springing to her defence. ‘Any man with an ounce of sense would look at your more than once.’
‘Lord Felsham, such compliments will go to my head,’ Flora replied, laughing. ‘I am well aware of my shortcomings, and of my position within this household. And if I was not, you can be sure that Mrs Arnold would have the goodness to remind me.’
‘Unlike most females, compliments do not sway you, which is what sets you apart.’
‘Perhaps I realise that you are not sincere.’ Flora suppressed a smile. ‘Mrs Arnold would also tell you that I am out of place in this elegant room and have quite forgotten…well, my place.’
Lord Felsham roared with laughter, drawing curious glances from those standing near them. ‘You wound me, Miss Latimer.’
‘Is my friend making an ass of himself as usual?’ Luke asked, joining them.
‘Not a bit of it. He’s being amusing and making us laugh.’
‘Which I would take satisfaction from,’ Lord Felsham replied, his eyes sparkling, ‘but for the fact that I was being sincere. You are a hard lady to compliment, Miss Latimer.’
‘Perhaps that is because I am no lady, sir.’
Woodley, Luke’s butler, stepped into the room and announced with stately aplomb that dinner was served.
‘Excuse me, gentlemen. I must help the countess to table.’
Flora left them to discharge her duties. She settled the dowager in her chair at the foot of the table, taking her customary place to her right, where she could ensure that she ate appropriately and didn’t over-imbibe. She couldn’t help glancing towards the other end of the table, wondering whom Luke had chosen to escort. She smiled when she saw the disappointment on young faces when he took Mrs Pearson in. Lucy Arnold looked mutinous on Sam’s arm. Lord Felsham hobbled in at the rear of the party and surprised Flora by asking permission to take the chair beside her.
‘By all means,’ she replied, ‘although I shall now be despised by all the single young ladies whom you have disappointed.’
‘Ha! This scallywag has been disappointing females for years,’ the countess said, making it clear that she knew who he really was. ‘He makes a sport of it.’
Lord Felsham raised a brow. ‘It seems I am not nearly as convincing as I assumed,’ he said.
‘I have had your company inflicted upon me since you were in short coats. I am not as senile as my grandson likes to think.’ For once the countess kept her voice low. ‘Of course I know who you are.’ She picked up her spoon and gave her soup a vigorous stir. ‘Now, Flora, what are we going to do to separate my granddaughter from that fortune hunter?’
‘You do not approve of Captain Redfern, ma’am?’
‘Lord above, no. He’s entirely wrong for her.’
Flora glanced down the table and caught Luke’s eye. She tilted her head in the direction of Mary and Redfern, seated together half way down the table. Mary laughed at something he had just said to her, causing Luke to scowl. She sensed Lord Felsham studying her with open curiosity. She had held Luke’s gaze for too long, she accepted, hastily turning away. She’d been mesmerised by the sight of his handsome features cast into light and shadow by dozens of candles. A little intoxicated by the elegant manner in which he wore his evening clothes, she briefly let her guard down and worried that the nature of her feelings might become apparent in her expression.
It would take a great deal more than that to shock Lord Felsham, but even so Flora would prefer for him not to think that she had allowed herself to be seduced by Luke, tempting though that prospect was. That silent admission gave her pause. What had happened to the prim clergyman’s daughter who knew her place and never allowed salacious thoughts to occupy her mind? Well, in truth, that person had never actually existed, but she had learned to suppress her true nature and become adept at appearing to be what was expected of her. Now that such things were no longer necessary, she gloried in her newfound freedom of expression and the good fortune that had brought her to the countess’s notice.
