Page 9 of A Sense of Paradise
‘You must tell me how you do it.’
‘Nothing could be easier,’ Flora replied, saving Polly from the trouble of formulating a diplomatic response. ‘Polly gives exemplary service and does not do silly things, like standing about for too long on an injured leg. She has the sense she was born with, unlike some I could name.’
Melanie looked a little alarmed at the forthright manner in which Flora addressed a marquess, and watched the exchange between them with what appeared to be a dawning sense of awareness. She had guessed their secret, Flora thought, surprised that it had taken her so long. Archie was a frequent visitor to Fox Hollow and she to Felsham Hall. She often took Melanie with her, where she was treated with respect and deference, and yet the penny only just seemed to have dropped.
Perhaps she had trouble believing that a marquess would lower himself to marry the daughter of a disgraced clergyman. Flora herself was equally bemused and expected at any moment for Archie to find a reason to call the engagement off. No one knew about it, so he couldn’t be accused of breach of promise. And even if Flora hurled that accusation at him—which of course she would not—no one would take her word for it and would accuse her of having ideas above her station. And yet it was Flora who had insisted upon delaying their announcement. Archie, to his credit, had wanted to shout about what he described as his good fortune from the rooftops.
‘Well, that’s me told,’ Archie chuckled.
‘And it won’t make a blind bit of difference. You will continue to do precisely as you please.’
‘It pleases me to please you,’ Archie said in an undertone, when Melanie and Polly were briefly distracted by the sight of a cow being hauled out of a ditch by four men heaving on ropes secured around the beast’s hindquarters. He gave her hand a squeeze and Flora’s heart melted. ‘Never doubt it.’
Flora’s difficulty was that she did doubt it the moment she was no longer with him, or when beautiful young women appeared in public, determined to attract his attention. She wanted to asked Polly if Mr Pawson had said anything about the lady who had been outside the church today. He would know who she was and why she was there, but Flora had too much pride to pump her maid for information.
Probably.
Flora knew when they arrived at her cottage that Archie was in no position to come in, and even if he had been, it would have been impossible to speak with him about the lady since Melanie would be there. She would find an opportunity to do so though, and soon. She could not, would not, marry him until she was completely sure that he had severed all connections with his previous conquests. Some women might be prepared to share their husband’s favours, but she was most decidedly not one of them.
‘Go home, take that leg of yours to the steam bath and then rest it for two days,’ she told him.
‘Yes, ma’am.’ He grinned at her, a boyish gesture that he probably knew would prevent her from remaining cross with him. Not that she could legitimately berate him for overexerting himself. His duties as Luke’s best man had necessitated the effort.
Upon arrival at Fox Hollow, Melanie went on ahead into the cottage, calling to Beatrice to tell her all about her exciting day. Polly had found an excuse to linger with Pawson, who had jumped down from the box seat.
‘Will you take luncheon with me on Friday?’ Archie asked, having insisted upon leaving the carriage to help her alight and still holding her hand. Flora knew what an effort that had taken him, but was also aware that gentlemanly conduct had been drilled into him from the cradle and that he would feel less of a man if he did not adhere to that code. ‘We need to talk about today’s developments.’
‘Friday?’ She thought of her responsibilities in respect of the local populace who depended upon her herbal cures. Deciding that she ought to be able to attend to them during the three days before that, she nodded. ‘Yes, Archie, thank you. I should like that.’
‘I am so glad.’ He touched her face with the fingers of one hand, brought them to rest beneath her chin and tilted her head backwards. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, wishing he would kiss her yet aware that he could not do so, not there in such a public place. He groaned and shook his head. ‘If you continue to be so provocative, I shall not be held responsible for my actions,’ he warned her in a low, gravelly voice. ‘Get inside before I forget myself completely. But I give you due warning, on Friday I will press you to name the day and we will make plans to announce our news. I have been more patient than I thought possible, but that patience is not inexhaustible.’
‘I am perfectly ready to become your wife, Archie.’ She paused and sent him one of her mischievous smiles. ‘If you are absolutely sure that you know what you are taking on.’
‘I’ll risk it,’ he said. ‘I was never one to settle for an easy life.’
‘Just as well.’ She grinned at him and turned towards the house. ‘Come along, Polly,’ she said. ‘If Mr Pawson can spare you, I dare say Alice is desirous of your company too.’
‘Not half as desirous as I am,’ Flora heard Mr Pawson mutter beneath his breath, confirming what had been obvious for a long time. When Flora married Archie, she very much doubted if Polly and Mr Pawson would be far behind them when it came to exchanging vows. Her maid had been through a great deal. As a beautiful young girl, she had been seduced and then turned away by her previous employer when her condition became obvious. Flora had taken Polly and her little girl, Alice, in and had thus far been given no reason to regret that decision.
Beatrice, Flora’s cook, wanted to hear all about the wedding. Polly and Melanie between them were more than happy to supply the particulars, and Flora didn’t have to say very much. She watched Melanie’s animated expression and admired her sister’s resilience. She had run away from home and arrived half-dead at Flora’s cottage in the middle of a snowstorm. Their father had physically abused her to a cruel and unnecessary extent, and Flora had indulged in a battle of wills with their father, refusing to return Melanie to his care. Their father’s subsequent fall from grace had resulted in Melanie living permanently with Flora and each day Flora had the pleasure of seeing her spirits revive a little more.
Melanie too had inherited from their grandmother the gift of second sight. She could see Remus as clearly as Flora, and her powers were gradually increasing now that she had opened her mind to them. Flora had struggled through the understanding process alone, or with Remus’s sporadic company and confusing explanations. Happily for Melanie, she had Flora to call upon for clarification.
‘We shall be the two witches of Fox Hollow,’ Melanie had declared, giggling.
‘Unfortunately, we are not witches. They do not exist, as far as I am aware. But we must be careful not to let on about our powers. People are generally superstitious and easily frightened if they see something they cannot explain. We will be described as blasphemers if we are caught talking to spirits, especially given our religious background, and hounded out of the village.’
‘Our father would enjoy nothing more, but Lord Felsham understands.’
‘He does, but he also appreciates the need for discretion.’
Melanie had nodded, biting her lip. ‘I understand. We can use our powers for the greater good but we must not talk about them.’
‘Precisely.’
Flora found it odd that she and Melanie, the oldest and youngest of five, had characters that were diametrically opposed to those of the sisters who separated them. All three were deeply religious, their individuality thwarted by the strict regime that Flora and now Melanie had found the strength to fight against. Pamela, closest in age to Flora, was married to a clergyman. It was a life to which she was eminently suited, but Flora often wondered if it was what she would have chosen for herself, given the freedom to…well, choose.
Flora busied herself on the day after the wedding, wondering why her thoughts continued to dwell upon her family. Perhaps she felt to some extent guilty for the part she had played in their reduced circumstances. She was not responsible, as Archie had emphatically reminded her whenever she expressed reservations. She knew he was right and that their father had brought it upon himself with his perverse ways and absolute conviction that his work was God’s will. Even so, she couldn’t help wondering how that would affect the fortunes of her two sisters who were still at home and were most definitely blameless.
