Page 14 of A Sense of Turmoil
‘Does he? Did he make promises?’
‘I would imagine so. No one ever tells me anything. Anyway, I would like to live to see Luke settled, and to approve his choice, but I don’t suppose he will make a decision simply to gratify me.’
‘I think there is very little he would not do for your sake,’ Flora replied, squeezing the countess’s gnarled hand. ‘Now then, would you like me to continue reading from the book we started earlier?’
Chapter Four
Within a week of Luke’s return, Mary had arranged a welcome home dinner at which all the family, with the notable exception of Sam, would be present. Archie would be there as well. As Mary put it, he was like a member of the family. The Flemings were due to arrive on the following day.
Luke had immersed himself in estate business since his return, and had seen little of Flora. They had ridden out together just once, but the conversation had not flowed as naturally between them as it once did. Luke blamed himself for that. He was preoccupied; still unable to decide what to do about Ottilie Fleming. Inviting her and George to stay at Beranger Court had likely been interpreted by Ottilie as a declaration of intent—one that she had done nothing to encourage—so it would not be fair to procrastinate.
In other words, it was decision time.
The weather had been cold and damp, precluding any outdoor activity that was not strictly necessary. But that hadn’t prevented Flora from taking her morning walks. He had seen her several times from his library window, striding around the lake, and the desire to join her, to seek her advice on his marital dilemma, had been compelling. But since she was the principal cause of the dilemma in question, it would have been entirely unfair to burden her, or to ask her to be something she was not. There was every possibility that his tendency to confide in her previously had givenherexpectations too. Expectations that he would dearly love to satisfy.
But could not.
And that, he realised, formed the crux of his difficulty. He could overlook her relatively humble origins and he was sure that he could somehow find a way to justify his decision in the light of the promise he had made to his father. But having a wife who lived by the guidance of her supposed sixth-sense was another matter altogether, and he knew it would drive a wedge between them.Ottilie Fleming, on the other hand, knew how to behave and would not put her opinions forward. She would never defy him in any way.
With a heavy sigh, he returned his attention to the report that his steward had prepared and which he was attempting to get to grips with. Thus far, he’d read it three times and not absorbed a word. He was relieved when the door opened and Paul ushered Archie through it.
‘Look who I found,’ Paul said.
‘Ah, there you are, Archie.’ Luke stood and shook his friend’s hand warmly while Paul poured them all whiskies. ‘Good journey?’ Luke was aware that even sitting in a well-sprung carriage played havoc with Archie’s back and hip.
‘Tolerable,’ Archie replied, easing himself into a chair with a weary exhalation and placing his stick on the floor. He was wearing the requisite black in mourning for his father, yet still managed to look roguishly dashing. His handicap, Luke knew, would likely compel ambitious females rather than deter them. Romulus jumped up from his place in front of the fire, wagging his tail as he pushed his big head beneath Archie’s hand. Archie gave his ears a good scratch and Romulus lapped up the attention. ‘I have to hand it to Flora. The tinctures she forced upon me have made quite a difference.’
‘I noticed you walking a little more freely when you came into the room,’ Luke replied, taking the chair across from Archie, and squashing down the jealousy he felt when the first name that Archie mentioned was Flora’s.Leave her alone; she’s mine.Except that she was not his, and Luke was obliged to accept that she likely never would be. ‘I’m glad.’
‘How are you coping with being a marquess?’ Paul asked, savouring his drink.
‘Never been more popular,’ Archie said with a wry smile. ‘Fortunately, I have an excuse not to receive anyone I’d prefer not to see.’
‘Magda?’ Luke and Paul asked in unison.
‘She left her card at the gatehouse, and I gave orders that she wasn’t to be permitted past it. Made quite a fuss, apparently. Said that my not receiving couldn’t possibly apply to her.’ Archie chuckled. ‘Threw her weight about and insisted that I would want to see her.’
‘She won’t give up easily,’ Luke warned. ‘We both know she can be inventive and manipulative when there’s something she wants, and now that you are the marquess, wealthy and eligible…well, you don’t need me to spell it out for you. She had you dancing to her tune before and probably thinks that she still has a hold over you.’
‘We were young and reckless then.’ He glanced down at his ruined body to emphasise his point. ‘But even if she somehow manages to get anywhere near me, it won’t do her any good.’ Archie eased his left leg into a less awkward position. ‘As to the estate, I have a new steward who comes highly recommended. Not being able to get out and about myself, I need someone I have faith in, and felt it was time for the pater’s man to retire. Anyway, so far the new chap has not disappointed.’
‘It’s a bugger having to be responsible,’ Luke replied, not without sympathy.
‘Talking of responsibilities, how’s married life treating you, Paul?’
‘No complaints.’ Paul offered his friends a smug smile. ‘It’s about time the two of you took the plunge.’
‘I thought that was why we were here,’ Archie said casually. ‘To cast an eye over the fragrant Miss Fleming that Alvin’s been telling me about and to give Luke a nudge if we approve.’
‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ Luke asked.
Archie drained his glass, held it out to Paul for a refill and lifted a shoulder. ‘Have I got it wrong?’
‘She has possibilities,’ Luke admitted, watching Archie and Paul as they exchanged a speaking look. ‘Do you remember George from our university days, Archie?’
‘Vaguely. You were better acquainted with him than me, but I don’t know anything to his detriment. I’m more interested in this sister of his. Pretty, is she?’
‘Oh yes. A vision.’
