Page 50 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
Flora waited only until the door had closed behind her inquisitive maid before snatching up the letter.
It turned out to be an invitation to dine at Whilton Hall that evening. Without the Farnleighs. Flora put her hand to her mouth. What on earth should she understand that to mean? Did he think their wedding day was close enough now that he could take her to his bed?
The very idea of it made her shudder. She must put an end to this, and quickly.
Having made her decision, Flora was impatient to get the meeting over as soon as possible. She finished her breakfast and set out for Whilton Hall, hurrying through the woods and gardens until she reached the moated house. She followed the footman across the hall and walked past him into the drawing room even as he was announcing her.
Lord Whilton was standing in the window embrasure, deep in conversation with his housekeeper. They both turned quickly as she entered, but it was Mrs Goole’s expression that caught Flora’s attention. The woman’s eyes positively blazed with anger.
‘That will be all, Goole,’ said the Viscount.
Thus dismissed, the housekeeper lowered her eyes and hurried out of the room. Quentin walked over to Flora and she allowed him to take her hands, but as he raised first one and then the other to his lips, her mind was racing with conjecture over the little scene she had just witnessed.
‘My dear Flora, this is most unexpected. Did you receive my note?’
‘I did.’ He was still holding her hands and she gently pulled them free. ‘I did not want to wait until this evening to see you.’
‘Should I be flattered?’
He was smiling, but she saw the wary look in his eyes. She took a deep breath and plunged into the speech she had been preparing as she walked here.
‘I am very sorry, Quentin, I cannot marry you. I do not love you and I am sure you do not love me.’
‘Love is not important.’
‘It is to me. I did not think so, at first, but now… Now I do not believe we can be happy without it.’
She began to pull the diamond ring off her finger and he stopped her, putting his hand over hers.
She said quickly, ‘Please, Quentin. I want us to end this charade now.’
‘There are things to be considered, my dear, before you contemplate terminating our engagement.’
‘I have thought about it very carefully, I assure you.’
‘I do not think you have considered everything, my dear. This is about your parents.’
She frowned. ‘My parents?’
‘More specifically, your mother.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Flora shook her head. ‘My parents died sixteen years ago.’
‘Yes, on their way to France. Do you know why they were going there?’
‘The Treaty of Amiens had been signed. We were at peace. Everyone was going there that summer.’
‘But not all for the same reason. Your mother and father were not going as visitors, my love. They were quitting England, for ever.’
‘No, no,’ she laughed at him. ‘That is ridiculous. They left me with my aunt and uncle in order to enjoy a little travel abroad.’ Her laughter faded. ‘What is it? Quentin, why are you looking at me in that way?’
‘Ah, my poor Flora, I am sorry to be the one to tell you this,’
‘Tell me what?’
‘Your father was taking your mother abroad to save her life. You see, she had been spying for the French.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
