Page 83 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
Ignoring the muttered curses from her fiancé, Flora shut the door upon the hapless widow and went back to the side table to continue pouring out the wine. The Earl thanked Flora as she handed him his glass, but Matt took his with barely a word. He did not even look at her and for a moment she was overcome with doubt.
When he and Lord Dallamire had first entered the room Flora thought they had come to rescue her, but after that first look, Matt had given no sign, as though she was no more than a brief acquaintance. Could she have imagined it? Perhaps she was mistaken and she was only a secondary consideration in his plans.
She refused to dwell on the idea and concentrated on playing hostess. She poured two glasses of wine, one each for herself and the Viscount, and carried his across to him, careful to keep at arm’s length in case his barely contained anger should spill over.
‘Now, I think you may begin, Mr Talacre,’ she said, sitting down on an empty chair.
* * *
Matt inclined his head, unsmiling. He was filled with admiration for Flora. She was so calm, so assured, but he dared not show it. He could not risk Whilton suspecting there was anything between them.
‘Very well.’ Lord Whilton walked over to his usual highbacked chair and sat down. ‘It seems—for now—I must acquiesce to my fiancée’s wishes. Say what youhave to say, Mr Talacre, and let us be done with this charade.’
He sat back and crossed one elegantly clad leg over the other, a sneer marring his handsome features. Matt went over to join Conham in front of the elaborate chimneypiece, where they had sight of everyone in the room. He did not trust himself to look at Flora again. He knew she had read the message in his eyes when he walked in and she trusted him now to rescue her. He only hoped he would not let her down.
He said, ‘It is not a charade we have for you but a story, my lord, a true tale.’
‘An unedifying one, I am sorry to say,’ added Conham. ‘We start in the autumn of ’08, when General Sir John Moore took command of the British forces in Portugal, with thirty thousand men and the intention of marching into Spain and supporting their army in the fight against Napoleon. I will not bore you with detail, but after an initial victory at Sahagún, the British found themselves deep into Spanish territory with little hope of support from the Spanish. Napoleon already controlled Madrid and his army vastly outnumbered the British.
‘Moore had only one option, to escape or risk the British army being totally annihilated. Thus began one of the most hazardous episodes of the Peninsular War, the retreat to Corunna. It was a time when the army needed all its officers to maintain order and help themen through the ordeal. With increasingly bad weather and the French close behind, discipline in some of the British ranks began to break down. Spanish villages were looted and many of the soldiers became so drunk on stolen wine that they were left behind, to be killed by the weather or the French.’
‘And those who made it to Corunna found no ships waiting to carry them safely back to England,’ added Matt. ‘They had to wait and fight to secure the bay long enough for the ships to come in and evacuate them.’
He paused, recalling those the dark days, the exhausted troops, those too sick to embark being left behind. Even now the thought of it turned his stomach.
‘But this all happened nearly ten years ago,’ spluttered Farnleigh. ‘What possible bearing can it have on us?’
‘The fact that your host was a captain with the cavalry at the time,’ replied Conham. ‘It was assumed he had been killed or captured by the French after one of the many skirmishes, but the truth was that he deserted his post. Left his men to their fate and saved himself.’
‘Now there, my lord, you are mistaken,’ drawled the Viscount. ‘I lost my memory, after being attacked and left for dead. I explained it all at Horse Guards when I returned.’
‘Yes, you did.’ Lord Dallamire nodded.
Flora’s heart sank when she saw the look of triumph on Quentin’s face. He sat up straighter in his chair.
‘If that is all, gentleman, then you can take your leave,’ he said imperiously. ‘My guests have endured enough of your nonsense. Your scurrilous attempts to discredit me. Perhaps myfiancéewould be good enough to ring the bell.’
There was no mistaking the menace in his tone now. Flora’s rebellious spirit wavered and she glanced at Matt, but he was not looking at her. Unlike her aunt and uncle. Their whole attention was upon her, knowing their future happiness depended upon what she did next. Her blood ran cold. Had she gone too far, or would Quentin still honour their bargain if she obeyed him now?
‘I am waiting, my dear,’ purred the Viscount. ‘Or shall we have more revelations?’
‘Oh, we shall have more, Whilton,’ barked Lord Dallamire. ‘We haven’t finished your story yet.’
Quentin swore. ‘I was exonerated of all blame! It is all in the records.’ He jumped up and stalked across to the door. ‘Now get out of my house!’
‘But the records aren’t true, are they, Whilton?’ Matt’s voice cracked like a rifle shot across the room, stopping the Viscount even as he reached for the door handle. ‘They only have your word for it. Others tell a different tale.’
‘Hah! Who dares say that? And why have they never come forward?’
It was the Earl who answered.
‘Men who survived one particular battle say it. At the time they were only too glad to be rid of you, although some of them did try to take their revenge, did they not? They saw you in Portsmouth and set upon you.’
‘Jepps!’ Flora shuddered at the venom in the Viscount’s voice as he spat out the name. ‘He told you this, this taradiddle!’
‘Do you mean that groundsman of yours?’ exclaimed Mr Farnleigh. ‘He attacked you?’
‘On the contrary,’ said Matt. ‘It was Jepps who foundCaptain Gask, as he was then, after his troopers had given him a beating.’
