Page 47 of A Sense of Misgiving
‘Ah.’ Flora bit her lip, but a smile still escaped. ‘That would explain it. Anyway, I think Mary enjoyed herself last night, which is all that signifies.’
‘Ha! If she’s taken in by that tragic hero then she’s more of a goose than I realised.’
Flora raised a brow. ‘You do not like Captain Redfern?’
‘He’s a charlatan.’ The countess set her features in a rigid line. ‘After her fortune, and if he gets his wish it will slip through his fingers like sand through an hourglass. You just mark my words.’
Flora nodded. ‘I tend to agree with you. But Mary’s no fool. Besides, if she genuinely likes him…well, she won’t be the first lady to allow a handsome man who needs to marry for money to turn her head. He cannot be blamed for being the youngest of several sons who must fend for himself. Besides, perhaps he genuinely likes her.’
‘Ha!’
‘Anyway, Mary is enjoying being courted. She never said as much, but I sensed she felt a little overshadowed by Emma’s beauty. But now her sister is happily married and it’s Mary’s turn to shine. You yourself are always telling me how much you enjoyed being admired. Surely you wouldn’t deprive your granddaughter of that pleasure.’
The dowager gave an indignant huff. ‘I got myself respectably married first, so I was not in danger of being compromised.’
Flora felt mildly concerned. ‘You think that is the captain’s intention?’
‘I think he urgently needs a rich wife, and if he can’t charm Mary into compliance, then I wouldn’t put anything past him. As I say, he’s a charlatan. If he’s genuinely lame, then I’m the Queen of England.’ The countess pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, her chins wobbling with the effort it took her to adjust it to her satisfaction.
‘You imagine he’s feigning his injury to invoke Mary’s sympathy?’ Flora took a moment to consider a possibility that had not previously occurred to her. So much for her instincts! She recalled seeing him invite Mary to dance a jig and had thought it odd at the time. A disabled man required to give up a career that he supposedly thrived in because of his injuries wouldn’t even consider dancing—and certainly not something as energetic as a jig. ‘Or to avoid returning to his regiment.’ Flora’s eyes widened. ‘You think he is a coward.’
‘I noticed him briefly limping on the wrong leg last night. He covered it quickly, but not so quickly that I didn’t see him make the adjustment.’
‘Oh dear. This is worse than I thought.’ Flora didn’t doubt the countess’s powers of observation. She cared deeply about her family and Mary, as a young, wealthy, well-connected but inexperienced female, was in an especially vulnerable position. ‘Have you told the earl?’
She flapped a hand. ‘He will say I imagined it. But I’ll tell you this much, his pretending to be a hero and affecting a limp to lend his story credibility is an insult to men like Lord Hardwick who are genuinely disabled.’ She cackled. ‘Even if his injuries were incurred pursuing a different sort of duty all together.’
‘I happen to know that the earl shares your concerns about the captain and is making enquiries about his circumstances, so if there is information to his detriment, we shall soon discover what it is.’ She considered asking the countess about her son’s supposed unpaid debt to the late Lord Redfern but quickly dismissed the idea. If her charge knew about it, she would have mentioned something. Since she clearly did not, it would serve no purpose to upset her. ‘Captain Redfern is anxious for Mary to accompany him and his sister on an excursion to Swallow Hill tomorrow. Mary wants to go.’
‘Of course the silly goose wants to go. Then the sister will find an excuse to leave them alone and goodness only knows what he will talk her into.’
‘She will take a chaperone, and in any case it wouldn’t be the end of the world if the two of them are left alone out of doors, where no one is likely to see them.’
‘No, but if they were in a house, on the other hand…’
‘Ah, I see what you mean. If Lucy were to invite Mary back for refreshments…’ Zeus appeared from somewhere and jumped onto the bed. Flora absently stroked his back as she thought about the countess’s words. She had long since become accustomed to her exaggerated tales about her own exploits. Having champagne drunk from her slipper indeed! But she had also become used to her sound common sense. It only came to the fore when she felt a situation warranted it and Flora had learned to trust her opinion. ‘Yes, the same thought occurred to me. I suggested to the earl that he compromise by letting her go, but insists that she take her maid with her. I mean,’ she added, grinning, ‘a gentleman with honourable intentions could hardly object.’
‘You’re not so green as you’re cabbage looking,’ the old lady said with an approving nod, her words accompanied by a hacking cough.
‘Well, thank you.’ Flora shook her head. ‘I think. Anyway, about your getting out of bed. It’s a lovely day and it would be a shame to waste it.’
‘I am not having you drag me all round that lake.’ The old lady folded her arms and adopted a mulish expression. ‘Not this morning. I have seen enough ducks to last me a lifetime. What it is about you and your constant need for fresh air I have yet to fathom. If you intend to stay here with me through the cold winter, something will have to be done about it. I have absolutely no intention of freezing to death in order to satisfy your whims. You are the one who is supposed to be putting my considerations first. Not that anyone in this household ever does.’
‘I was thinking more of reading aloud to you,’ Flora said calmly.
‘Well, all right then, I suppose that will suffice. But no religious literature. Just because it’s Sunday…’
Flora held up a hand. ‘I wouldn’t think of it. I’ll ring the bell for Sandwell and come back in half an hour, if that suits.’
‘It obviously suits you, which is all you care about.’
‘Don’t be difficult, ma’am. It won’t serve, since I refuse to quarrel with you.’ She stood and shook a finger at the countess before ringing the bell for Sandwell. ‘I shall bring a tincture back with me to help with your aches and pains. And something for that cough.’
‘I don’t have any aches and pains. And even if I did, that hogwash you force upon me makes absolutely no difference.’
Flora took herself off to make the promised tinctures, aware that today would prove to be one of the countess’s particularly argumentative days since she was tired and in pain. The countess was nearing the end of her life and was fearful of what might follow. Flora wanted to reassure her that it would not be the end, merely the start of the next phase. Since she knew such assurances would be met with derision, she did not voice them. Instead she did everything else she could to keep her cherished charge comfortable and entertained while she remained in this world. She endured her sometimes barbed remarks that were intended to shock and offend with a calmness that disappointed the contrary countess. Flora knew the old lady secretly enjoyed the fact that she was perfectly willing to stand up to her. None of Flora’s predecessors had dared to, which is why they had not stood the test of time.
Flora concocted her tinctures and made her way back through the house, thinking that it seemed unnaturally quiet. The family, it seemed, had slept even later than Flora and she didn’t see any of them.
