Page 5 of A Sense of Turmoil
Flora winced. ‘You are the second person to ask me that question today.’
‘We shall be moving to larger premises when your father is installed as dean. You are welcome at home.’
‘I shall not be there,’ Pamela added, lifting her chin. ‘I am to be married next spring.’
‘Congratulations. To whom?’
‘The Reverend Janson. He is Papa’s newest curate, destined for higher office. I hope you will attend my wedding. My other sisters are to be bridesmaids, but you’re too old now to perform that duty.’
Flora absorbed the insult with equanimity. ‘I shall certain attend if I am invited and I wish you joy.’
‘I shall be the first of the five of us to marry,’ Pamela said, preening.
‘Good for you. Whatever happened to Mr Bolton?’ she asked, referring to a previous curate of her father’s whom he had tried to press on Flora.
‘Oh, he has taken a position on the bishop’s staff,’ Pamela said. ‘No one quite knows what he does, but he is no longer seen very often in Salisbury.’
‘You broke that man’s spirit by declining his proposal,’ Mama said in a disapproving tone. ‘He is a fine young cleric and you could have done a lot worse. I really don’t know what you expect to achieve by holding out, other than to be left on the shelf.’
Flora glanced at her opulent surroundings but said nothing. ‘Perhaps Mr Bolton has had time to reflect and now understands that he can do a lot better.’ Flora smiled at her mother, who looked tired and worn down. ‘I would have made a terrible cleric’s wife. I am far too outspoken.’
‘You would have adapted.’
Flora knew that Mr Bolton wasn’t pining away. She had seen him before she argued with her father and he told her that he was now acting as the bishop’s aide, travelling wherever he was needed and resolving problems as they arose within the clergy, including crises of faith. It sounded interesting, but she was surprised that he was content to remain away from Salisbury, the seat of ecclesiastical power. She knew that he had disagreed with her father as well. Presumably Papa had won their skirmish, as evidenced by his elevation to the vacant dean’s position, and then made Mr Bolton’s life so uncomfortable that he felt compelled to remove himself.
So much for Christian charity, she thought with a droll smile.
‘Well, Mama, it’s been lovely to see you, but if there is nothing else you wanted to say to me, I must return to my duties. I shall have someone drive you back to the station.’
‘Do you have that authority?’
Flora smiled. She could see that her mother disapproved of the offer but unless she accepted it, she would have a long walk.
‘One of the grooms will be happy to take you.’
Flora stood on the front steps a few minutes later, waving to the departing curricle that contained her mother and sister, still wondering what the real purpose of their visit had been.
Chapter Two
Luke Beranger stood at the rail of the steamship as it made its slow way into the crowded port of Liverpool. His relief at reaching home soil was palpable to the degree that the noise, bustle and general confusion coming from the shore washed over him. He hadn’t told anyone that he’d repeatedly delayed the visit to Boston for superstitious reasons. Flora, he suspected, was the only person who might have guessed the truth, but that particular subject was taboo between them and she had long since stopped mentioning her apparent gift in his hearing.
All that mattered was that he had survived the journey. Finally, he could put his parents’ deaths behind him and look to the future. Sam had proved to be enthusiastic about staying behind and taking over the position ceded by Luke’s friend George Fleming. George and the estate manager had spent weeks instructing Sam in the duties that would fall to his lot. Luke, reluctant at first to trust his youngest brother with so much responsibility, wanted to be sure that he fully understood the massive obligation he would be taking on in a foreign country where he didn’t properly understand the customs before leaving him to it.
Sam’s enthusiasm hadn’t waned, and he quickly grasped the basic concepts, reinforcing Luke’s opinion that he was the most intelligent of all four brothers. Easy going and personable, Sam needed something to challenge his intellect now that he had reached maturity, if only to counter the inevitable boredom that often beset younger sons with no fixed duties but with temptations aplenty to lead them into mischief.
Luke was convinced that Sam would thrive. Both of his sisters were married, as were his other two brothers. Luke, as head of the family, had done his duty by his siblings and was now free to contemplate his own future—something that he had found excuses to avoid doing since tragedy had struck and he’d reluctantly assumed the earldom far sooner than he was ready to take on that onerous responsibility.
‘I haven’t seen England for ten years.’
Ottilie Fleming’s melodic voice interrupted Luke’s introspections as she joined him at the guardrail, her pretty face pink from exposure to the wind. It was odd that she had come upon him just as he’d been considering his future. She didn’t simper or try to attract him in the ways employed by the other ambitious females who’d used their wiles in increasingly creative efforts to engage Luke’s interest. There was nothing about her that he could object to. She was from a decent family, knew how to behave with decorum and always deferred to her brother, who was also now her guardian, just as a well-bred young woman should.
But was she destined to be his future? He had been trying to decide since he’d reacquainted himself with the Flemings. She was perfect for him in all respects. He felt himself stirring when he looked at her sometimes, which implied an attraction, didn’t it? Love would presumably follow.
‘Have you missed it?’ he asked, smiling at her.
Rather than rushing to give him reassurances, she took a moment to consider her response. ‘I suppose I have in some respects, but I mostly associate England with my mother’s death. That was why Papa decided to make a fresh start in America. He was heartbroken when he lost her.’ She looked away from him, her expression remote, haunted. ‘We all were. I wondered if he would remarry after a time. He certainly enjoyed a lot of attention from the ladies in Boston, but he told me that none of them could hold a candle to Mama and that he would prefer to live out his days alone with just his memories to sustain him.’ She gripped the brim of her hat when a sharp gust of wind threatened to snatch it from her head. ‘It must be remarkable to experience such an all-abiding love, don’t you think, Lord Swindon? Not many people do, from my observation of the married state.’
‘Perhaps you will find out for yourself one day.’
