Page 3 of A Sense of Paradise
‘I have never claimed to be a saint, Flora,’ he said with a weary sigh.
‘Ha! At least no one can accuse you of being a hypocrite.’
‘Here is our carriage,’ he said, when an open landau festooned with white ribbons and drawn by a matching pair of grey horses came to a smooth halt in front of them.
‘Oh, dear lord!’
‘What is it?’ Archie looked at her with concern when Flora’s hand flew to her lips.
‘I thought we had finally seen the last of him,’ she said.
Archie followed the direction of her gaze until it landed on the tall figure of Flora’s father, standing at the back of the crowd and slightly apart from it, watching impassively. He had until a few months ago been the dean of Salisbury Cathedral, an ambitious man who went about his career with the same ruthless control that he had exercised over his wife and five daughters. Flora, the eldest, had escaped his tyranny and he hadn’t stopped trying to entice her back into the family fold since that time, especially after the countess died and left Flora well provided for financially.
His recent fall from grace when Flora and Archie had exposed his involvement in illegal exorcisms designed to satisfy the desires of debauched men of consequence had seen him dismissed from his post. Her father had slunk away to a quiet Hampshire parish and taken up a demeaning position as a lowly vicar, a fitting punishment for a man who had such a high opinion of himself.
‘What on earth is he doing here?’ Archie asked, scowling.
‘That is what I would very much like to know.’ She hesitated. ‘Or there again, perhaps I would not. Where is Melanie?’
Flora almost tripped over her train as she swung round, searching the crowd for her sister. Melanie, the youngest Miss Latimer, had endured her father’s brutal physical punishments for daring to defy him. Distraught, she had run away to join Flora and Flora had refused to return her to their father’s brutal care.
‘It’s all right.’ Archie steadied her by grasping her shoulders as Melanie bounded up to them, her eyes alight with excitement.
‘That was the most wonderful service, Flora. You looked magnificent.’
‘You’re biased,’ Flora replied, smiling as she tweaked a curl dangling from beneath the rim of Melanie’s smart new hat that complimented her sunshine yellow attire—a perfect reflection of Melanie’s disposition.
‘You can travel back to Beranger Court with us,’ Archie told Melanie.
‘Oh, can I really?’ She beamed. ‘I shall feel like royalty.’
Archie smiled as he helped first Melanie and then Flora into the carriage, holding onto her hand for longer than was necessary. He climbed in beside them with the help of the coachman, shrugging the man’s hand off with a grimace the minute he was inside the coach.
‘Thank you,’ Flora mouthed, appreciating Archie’s perspicacity.
Like her, he had probably realised that now he was disgraced, there was nothing to prevent her father from demanding Melanie’s return. He would do so for no reason other than to spite Flora, who no longer had anything to hold against him. He had lost the position that had meant so much to him and had hit rock bottom. Flora’s mother had blamed her for exposing her husband’s unsavoury appetites, and would likely never speak to her again. That possibility did not keep Flora awake at nights, but the prospect of their father demanding Melanie’s return most assuredly did. He couldn’t snatch her from the midst of this elite wedding party but he was here, wanting Flora to see him, making it clear that hecouldtake her at some other time. The sisters lived alone and relatively unprotected in a cottage in Lyneham, leaving themselves open to that possibility.
‘Don’t let him spoil the day.’ Archie leaned forward, speaking in an undertone whilst Melanie’s attention was distracted as she waved to the cheering crowds. ‘There is nothing he can do to harm either of you. I will not permit it.’
‘You are not always around to prevent it.’
‘Then the sooner we follow Luke and Violet’s example, the better. He won’t get anywhere near Melanie at Felsham Hall.’
‘Blackmail, Lord Felsham?’ she asked, smiling.
‘Whatever it takes to force you into naming the day,’ Archie replied with a seductive smile that made Flora feel a sudden urgency to do precisely that.
They arrived at Beranger Court behind Luke’s carriage. The entire household staff was lined up on either side of the front steps, ready to welcome their new mistress. Archie held up a hand, implying that they should give the couple a moment or two before alighting himself and helping the ladies down. Flora noticed how bad his limp now was. He had spent too long standing in the church and she knew that any form of carriage ride agitated his injuries. That was to be expected, she frequently reminded him, if he would climb out of ladies’ boudoirs and not have the presence of mind to avoid a fall from two floors up.
The servants dispersed and went about their duties as Archie, with Flora and Melanie at his side, entered the house.
‘Well, you did it,’ Archie said, pumping Luke’s hand. ‘And not before time.’
Archie, at his most irrepressible best, swooped down and claimed a kiss from the blushing Violet. ‘Congratulations, Lady Swindon,’ he said.
‘Goodness,’ Violet replied. ‘That will take some getting accustomed to.’
‘I dare say it will grow on you, as will this reprobate,’ Archie said, slapping Luke’s shoulder.
