Page 56 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
‘My cousin will join us shortly, but for now we will drink a toast,’ he said, handing her a glass. His eyes rested for a moment on her ring finger, then he raised his own wineglass. ‘To my beautiful bride.’
‘You will excuse me if I do not join you in that toast, just yet.’
He laughed. ‘Still cross with me, my love?’
She had no desire to smile as she asked, bluntly, ‘Is Goole your mistress?’
His good humour vanished. ‘That need not concern you.’
‘I will not share this house with her.’
He shrugged. ‘Very well, it can be arranged. There, will that do?’
She inclined her head. He had not denied it and she had achieved a victory, of sorts.
‘Let us talk of more pleasant matters.’ He sat down in his own chair and stretched out his long legs, entirely at his ease. ‘It is four weeks to the day until our wedding. It will be a quiet affair, of course.’ He glanced at her, as if to say that she now understood the reason. He went on, ‘Rather than a grand ball beforehand, I thought we might enjoy a quiet family dinnerhere with my cousin and your aunt and uncle. What do you say?’
Flora murmured her assent. In her present mood she had never felt less like dancing. He reached over and caught her hand.
‘Excellent. I am delighted we are in agreement. I think we shall deal very well together, Flora, my dear!’ He pressed his lips against her fingers, then raised his head, listening to the sounds of footsteps approaching. ‘And this must be our guest.’
‘Guest?’ Flora quickly snatched her hand away and sat up. ‘I thought we were dining alone—’
‘Mr Talacre, my lord!’
* * *
After the heavy grey rainclouds and even darker entrance hall, Matt blinked in the candlelight of the medieval drawing room.
He walked forward, preparing to make his bow, then he saw Flora and stopped. She was sitting in a chair next to the Viscount and her shocked face told Matt she had not expected to see him. At that moment came a flash, quickly followed by a crash of thunder that seemed to rock the very foundations of the house.
The Viscount rose, laughing.
‘Well, well, that is quite an entrance, Talacre. And just in time,’ he said, as the torrential rain beat against the windows. ‘Pray sit down, sir. As you can see, myfiancée has honoured us with her presence. I hope you do not object?’
‘Not at all, my lord.’
Matt gave a small bow and sat down on a settee opposite his host. He had no idea what was going on here, but he would play along. For now.
Flora had not been home when he had called at Birchwood House that morning. The Farnleighs had not said where she had gone, but part of him had wondered, hoped, that she had gone to Whilton Hall to break off her engagement. Obviously, that had not happened, but it was equally clear to Matt that she was unhappy.
The Viscount returned to his high-backed chair and kept up a flow of desultory small talk until his timid little cousin bustled in, breathlessly apologising for being late. A soft-footed servant followed her into the room and served Matt and Mrs Gask with glasses of wine. The Viscount indicated that his glass should also be refilled, but Matt noticed that Flora had barely touched hers.
When dinner was announced, Lord Whilton rose and held out his hand to Flora.
‘Come, my love, let us lead the way to the dining room.’ He had to raise his voice slightly over the sound of the rain, hammering against the glass. ‘I am sure Mr Talacre will be happy to escort my cousin, is thatnot so, sir? My fiancée and I have had so little time together recently, I cannot get enough of her.’
Matt’s jaw tightened. The Viscount kissed Flora before pulling her hand on to his arm. She looked pale and strained, as if she was not enjoying his attentions. Could it be the Viscount suspected she was not indifferent to his guest? Damn the man for taunting them both like this!
Matt gave his arm to Mrs Gask. He had no idea how much Whilton knew about his meetings with Flora, but he was determined not to betray himself. Or Flora. Matt felt the anger swell within him. Whilton was a scoundrel to make her so unhappy.
* * *
The dinner was a tense affair, with thunder rumbling around the house, and rain still pattering against the windows. Only the Viscount appeared to be at ease. Matt and the two ladies did their best to join in the conversation, but there was a palpable sense of relief when at last the meal was over. Whilton made a show of escorting the ladies to the door and kissing Flora before she left the room. When the two men were alone, Matt resumed his seat and waited for the Viscount to speak.
‘What a pleasant evening this has been,’ he drawled, indicating to the servant to refill their wineglasses. ‘I hope you are enjoying it, Mr Talacre?’
‘How could I not?’ Matt replied. He waited until theservants had withdrawn and they were alone before continuing. ‘However, I did not come for a sociable evening, my lord. You promised me a decision.’
