Page 37 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
‘I do. It is a very fine achievement. I only wish I—’
Flora broke off, her lashes falling quickly over her eyes, shielding her thoughts.
‘You only wish…?’ he prompted her.
‘N-nothing,’ she muttered. ‘I only wish everyone was so concerned for their fellow men.’
They made their way back down the hill and gradually Flora began to relax again. Listening to him talk of his work in the gardens, she had suddenly been frustrated with her own small existence.
I only wish I could help you with your plans,was what she had wanted to say, but that would imply criticism of her fiancé.
And I am being disloyal enough, she thought, as they approached the Pavilion. I am enjoying the company of a man Quentin might well consider an adversary.
She pushed that thought aside. She wasn’t here to take sides, but to find out the truth about Matt Talacre’s claim to the statue and to do what she could to mediate between the two men. She had hoped Betty might be able to find out something of the man’s character, but now she would have to rely upon her own judgement.
That was why she had accepted Matt’s escort, she told herself. The fact that she very much wanted to spend more time with him was purely coincidental.
That thought set her inconvenient conscience ringing with something that sounded very much like hollow laughter.
When they reached the Pavilion, Matt explained they would not be taking tea in the original tea rooms.
‘They are large enough for the quieter winter months,’ he said, as he escorted her through the building. ‘But the number of summer visitors has increased so much that I had tables moved here, into the ballroom.’
He ushered her into the large, bright salon and Flora stopped for a moment to look around. It was much bigger than the assembly rooms at the Red Lion. Long windows ran the full length of one wall, most of which were open today, giving a view of a colourful flower garden. At night the chandeliers would be ablaze with candlelight, making the gilded plasterwork around the ceiling glitter.
Several musicians occupied the small dais, entertaining everyone with a selection of traditional folk songs and country airs, but Flora imagined an orchestra playing there, music filling the air while the dancers twirled and skipped in a joyous, colourful spectacle.
‘It is a magnificent room,’ she remarked as he led her between white-clothed tables where small groups were enjoying refreshments served by soft-footed servants. ‘What happens if you wish to have a ball?’
They had reached an empty table by one of the open windows and he held her chair for her to sit down before responding.
‘You meanwhenwe have one,’ he corrected her. ‘We will be holding our weekly ball tonight, in fact. The tea rooms will close early today and everything will be cleared away in readiness for the dancing.’
‘That must take a great deal of effort.’
‘We have practised it many times. Everyone knows exactly what to do.’
‘Like an army drill?’
He grinned. ‘Exactly that.’
‘I am impressed,’ she replied, twinkling back at him.
‘Thank you. Now let me see if we can impress you with our tea and cake!’
The tea was accompanied by an assortment of small delicacies: sponge fingers and puffs flavoured with lemon or almonds as well as biscuits and slices of fruit cake. Flora discovered that she was quite hungry and nibbled a macaroon while her escort entertained her with amusing anecdotes about the characters who attended the concerts and balls held in this building.
His passion for Bellemonte shone through, as did the affection in which he held his patrons, from those who could only afford the luxury of an occasional visit to the rich merchants and gentry who had purchased season tickets and attended every ball and concert.
* * *
When at last they made their way back into the square, she thanked him for his time.
‘I cannot remember when I have enjoyed a day so much.’
‘Thankyou, Miss Warenne. Bellemonte means a great deal to me and I am glad to have your approval. After I was wounded at Waterloo, I found it difficult to adjust to life in England. I had been a soldier for too long, you see. I was accustomed to being busy. Conham employed me as his aide-de-camp and when he became Lord Dallamire and sold out, he kept me on, but it was never enough. There was no challenge in it.’
She smiled at his enthusiasm.
