Page 69 of A Sense of Turmoil
‘You imagine your father was a paragon; a man to look up to and admire. Well, let me tell you, my mother was not his first paramour, and I dare say there were others who followed after her. I can give you names if you doubt me. My father made it his business to find them out once he knew what your father was actually capable of. Why else would he have offered him the position in Boston at a time when my father was short of funds and needed a fresh start?’
‘He blackmailed the pater into funding his lifestyle.’
‘I don’t think anyone can blamemyfather for feeling deceived. He would have been less than human if he hadn’t attempted to exact a modicum of revenge to help him through his grief.’
‘By threatening to name names?’
‘I for one would not blame him if he had. Your father lost all right to be treated as a gentleman when he seduced another man’s wife.’ George fixed Luke with a look of unmitigated disgust. ‘Father took up the offer to remove to Boston and we were dragged from the country of our birth. Damn it, my sister deserved to grow up here and be accepted into society, where she would have had a better chance of making a good marriage! Her future and mine were determined by your father’s inability to keep away from Mama.’
Luke rubbed his chin, unsure whether or not to believe what George had just told him. Flora’s words came back to haunt him.Perhaps your father is not the man you thought he was.He had possessed a wandering eye, that much was true, but Luke hadn’t thought much of it. All men admired a beautiful woman, a well-turned ankle, a saucy smile, a light flirtation—his father more so than most. Ye gods, had he got it all wrong? Had his father been a serial womaniser?
‘Even if what you say is true, I hesitate to point out that your mother need not have responded to my father’s advances.’
‘It takes two.’ George nodded. ‘Indeed. Father was candid. He admitted he’d made a mull of his investments which meant he was unable to give our mother all the creature comforts she deserved. She might have been disappointed, become disillusioned with him as a provider, although Father said her behaviour towards him remained loving and, he thought, faithful. Your father, I would imagine, could give her all the material possessions that my father could not. She did not behave well, I’ll be the first to admit it, but she paid the ultimate price for her disloyalty.’
‘Your father accepted the position in Boston and sought to refill your family coffers by depleting mine.’ Luke firmed his jaw. ‘Worse, he persuaded you to carry on where he’d left off, despite the fact that my father, indeed both my parents, died in the most unimaginable manner. Could you not have let your dissatisfaction die with them?’
‘When I found out about it,’ Ottilie said, speaking for the first time, ‘I was furious. Like you, I couldn’t see any profit in carrying on a feud that had died out with the previous generation. There was bad behaviour on both sides and Papa had gained his revenge by stealing from you.’ She shook her head. ‘That was dishonest and dishonourable. Two wrongs do not make a right.’
‘That is why we decided to give up on Boston and return to England. Ottilie made me see that we couldn’t hope to get away with it indefinitely, no matter how well we covered our tracks. Besides, she deserved to be here and admired.’ George affected a defiant pose. ‘There, now you know it all. I can’t repay what we embezzled. Father had a penchant for cards and…’
‘And you have followed in his footsteps.’ Luke stood and fixed George with a look of contempt. ‘That’s where the money has gone. I will accept your word for what occurred between our parents, if only because I can sense that you believe what your father told you. I don’t want anything from you, you owe me nothing. But nor will I recognise you or admit you to Beranger Court.’ He turned to face Ottilie. ‘You should have told me instead of encouraging me to propose.’
‘I know that very well.’ A tear trickled down her cheek. ‘But I hoped we could find a way to…’ She looked up at him, the tears in freefall now, but Luke felt nothing more than a strange sense of detachment. ‘I’ve lost you, haven’t I?’
‘I will allow you to save your reputation by calling off the engagement, and we will keep the particulars of this conversation between us. I am not like my father, and I cannot enter into a marriage that’s based on a foundation of lies.’ He picked up his hat and turned towards the door. ‘We shall not be seeing one another again,’ he said softly, before walking through it without looking back.
Chapter Twenty
Established in Fox Hollow for over two weeks, Flora was slowly adjusting to her new situation, learning to make decisions for herself without having to put anyone else first. It felt highly decadent and self-indulgent. She was looked upon as a curiosity by the villagers but was accepted and embraced by them surprisingly quickly. One or two ladies she had met at church had called and left their cards, but she sensed that their visits were the product of inquisitiveness rather than a true desire to form friendships, and felt no pressing need to return their calls.
Flora had acquired two piano students from within the ranks of the middle-classes and was paid to provide them with lessons. She regularly visited the elderly and sick who were in need of her skills with herbal reliefs, feeling a pang of regret each time she prepared one as images of the countess complaining about their bitter taste filled her mind. She was guided to the doors of the neediest villagers by Mr Bradley’s knowledge of his flock. He was everything that a clergyman ought to be—caring, compassionate and non-judgemental. The polar opposite of his wife, who watched Flora with narrow-eyed suspicion, no doubt reporting her every move directly back to her father.
Let her, Flora thought, as she drove the gig that Will had acquired for her with the obliging Mabel between the shafts from one cottage to the next. She had already become a familiar sight and was frequently addressed by name with a degree of respect that made her feel worthy. There was nothing her father could do, no threats that he could level at her, which would alter that situation. She was a strong, independent woman carving out her own life, free from parental interference. Her father had not visited, and had remained suspiciously quiet. She knew that she couldn’t depend upon that situation to endure, but put his machinations to the back of her mind. She would not borrow trouble and would deal with him only when he forced the issue.
Her herb garden was now clear of weeds and the rest of the grounds were gradually taking shape, thanks to Will’s diligence. The household ran smoothly, with Beatrice the self-appointed housekeeper, and thus far Polly had given first-class service. Little Alice was a pleasure who was kept well out of the way unless Flora specifically asked to see her, which she did fairly often, much to Polly’s delight.
Flora had taken Amethyst out for a long ride one crisp, cool morning and felt her heart lurch when she returned to Fox Hollow and observed a familiar stallion stabled in one of her stalls. She didn’t need to be told that Lord Swindon had called, since she recognised Onyx at once. She paused once she had dismounted, wondering what Luke could want with her, wishing he hadn’t come.
Glad that he had.
The air between them required clearing, even if things could never go back to the way they once had been. Mary had written and told her that Luke was no longer engaged to be married, but had not told her why. She got the sense that Mary didn’t know herself.
Will stepped forward to take Amethyst from her. She absently thanked him, straightened the lines of her velvet habit, took a deep breath and walked towards the house, resisting the urge to turn tail and run.
‘You have a visitor, miss,’ Polly told her. ‘Lord Swindon.’
‘Yes, I saw his horse.’
She found Luke prowling around her drawing room, looking at the way she had arranged things. As tall and handsome as ever, her insides somersaulted at the sight of him and renewed anguish at their separation gripped her.
He turned at the sound of her footsteps as they paused in the doorway.
‘Luke,’ she said softly.
‘Flora.’
He looked at her for a prolonged moment, a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions passing across his angular features. For a second, time stood still and she experienced all the raw emotions of a first love that would neither die nor be reciprocated. The nature of her thoughts stirred her from her lethargy and she summoned up a smile as she forced herself to walk into the room and take control of the situation.
