Page 4 of A Sense of Fate
‘Mr Bolton. How could I not come to celebrate my sister’s special day?’
‘Does it not have overtures of there but for the grace of God…’
Flora grinned at his irreverence. ‘I hope you now agree that you and I would not have suited.’
‘Ah, there we must agree to differ.’ He handed her a glass of champagne and took one for himself. ‘To your very good health.’
‘And yours.’ Flora raised her glass in a salute.
‘I will admit that your father encouraged my ambitions, but you were assured of my attention long before that.’
‘Be careful. You will make me blush.’
Mr Bolton laughed. ‘I know my limitations, Miss Latimer, and I assure you that you did the right thing in getting away from all of this.’
‘As a man of the cloth, I don’t think that you are supposed to say such things. I am sure it must be sacrilegious. Anyway, Papa is assured of his curate’s loyalty now,’ she added, nodding towards Janson.
‘He is no longer his curate. When your father became dean, Janson became his gatekeeper, for want of a better word. More like a glorified secretary.’
‘Ah, I see. But you did better in joining the bishop. He is certainly a very different character to my father. How are you enjoying your role as his…enforcer? Is that the right term?’
‘A harsh description, but true, I suppose.’ He smiled at Flora, reminding her that he had blossomed since being released from her father’s authority and had become agreeably irreverent. ‘But at least we no longer put heretics to the rack.’
‘That is a great relief, I do assure you.’ Flora paused. ‘You had a disagreement with my father before you parted company, I think. I hope I was not the cause of that disagreement, although I suppose you finished up in a better position, so perhaps I was of help to you in the longer term.’
‘Your father and I disagreed over diocesan issues. You know how we clerics like to squabble amongst ourselves.’ He looked away from her and Flora sensed he was lying. Good manners prevented her from pressing the issue.
‘I hear there was some unpleasantness with his grace’s nephew last autumn,’ Mr Bolton said after a brief reflective pause.
‘You are aware of that?’ Flora couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘I shouldn’t have thought the bishop would have wanted to make such an issue public knowledge.’
‘It’s certainly not something I would talk to anyone about—other than you, given that you were directly involved.’
‘The bishop is assured of my discretion.’
‘He is well aware of that fact, and not ungrateful.’
‘Come along, Flora, Mr Bolton must excuse you. There are people here who wish to make your acquaintance.’ Flora rolled her eyes at Mr Bolton when her mother took her arm and gave her no option but to follow her into a long dining room, which had been laid with tables on three sides. Her mother led her to the front of the room, where the bride and groom were about to take their places.
‘I hope you will be polite to Papa’s guest of honour,’ her mother said, an edge to her voice.
‘That rather depends upon whether or not this is another clumsy attempt on his part to marry me off to a man of his choosing,’ Flora responded, matching her mother’s impatient tone.
‘Your father wants what is best for you.’
‘My father wants only what is best for himself.’
‘Flora, really…’
‘Ah, Flora.’ Her father smiled at her. ‘Allow me to present Mr Elroy Conrad, a distinguished guest. Conrad, my eldest daughter, Flora.’
‘Ah, the delightful Miss Latimer, about whom I have heard so much—and all of it a vast understatement, I can quite see that now.’
‘You have the advantage of me, sir,’ Flora replied, taking the measure of the handsome and clearly loquacious stranger, her suspicions on high alert when Remus put in an appearance, shaking his translucent head. ‘I have never heard your name mentioned before. Clearly, I am the one at fault since this is a family wedding and you are a guest, so it follows that you must be known to either my sister or her husband.’
‘Alas no, I cannot claim that pleasure, but it is a situation that I hope to rectify.’
‘I am sure my mother and sisters will be pleased to receive you, sir,’ Flora replied, confused by his presence. He was not a man of the cloth, nor it seemed a friend of the family, but he was obviously important to her father. ‘I no longer live in Salisbury.’
