Page 4 of The Duke's Gamble
“Oh, I quite forgot!” Florentina exclaimed, suddenly. “Mama, my brother has written! There is note for you in the house. It arrived early this morning!”
Lady Haddington’s expression changed at once. Her eyes flared wide and her hands tightened on Florentina’s for just a moment. “Henry has written?” she breathed, her voice very soft indeed as though to speak any louder would frighten the letter away. “Are you quite certain?”
“I am sure of it,” Florentina replied, letting go of her mother’s hands and turning back towards the house. “It hasbeen left for you in the parlour, I believe.” She did not need to ask whether or not her mother wished to read the note at once, for Lady Haddington immediately fell into step beside her and began to walk hurriedly back to the house.
Florentina could understand her urgency for, to not hear a single word from Henry these last few months had been very distressing for them all. She had gone from worrying about his whereabouts to outright anger at his abandonment, and her sympathy for her mother had only deepened, for the distress caused by her son’s absence had added yet another weight to an already burdened soul. Should she learn from this letter that Henry had now an intention of returning to them, then Florentina would immediately begin to prepare what she herself would want to say to him when he came back to the house. She would not hold herself back but would state unequivocally precisely what she thought of her brother’s actions. The new Earl of Haddington he might be, but that did not mean that he was able to command her respect simply because of his title!
Stepping inside, Florentina hesitated for a moment as her mother made her way towards the parlour. She did not want to intrude nor simply expect that her mother would wish her to be present when she read the letter from Henry. “I will be in the dining room, mama,” she said softly, coming to a stop. “You will wish to read your letter alone.”
Her mother opened her mouth as though to argue only to close it again and then smile at her daughter. “I will only be a few minutes,” she said, gently. “Thank you, Florentina.”
Florentina nodded, smiled and took her leave, making her way quickly to the dining room. The room was prepared for their breakfast and Florentina was glad to see another of her sisters now sitting at the table, sipping a cup of tea with a book in her hand.
“Good morning, Christiana,” she said, laughing as her sister jerked visibly, having clearly been lost in whatever it was she was reading. “Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you.”
Christiana smiled but her eyes remained fixed on the book. “Good morning, Florentina,” she answered, her hand which held her teacup now halfway between her mouth and the table. “Forgive me, but I am at a most important juncture in this particular novel and I simply cannot…” She trailed off, her brow now furrowing hard as her eyes ate up the words on the page before her. Smiling softly to herself, Florentina lifted the teapot and poured herself a small cup of tea, adding a dash of milk before stirring it carefully. Unable to seat herself, such was her anxiety over the letter from Henry, she made her way to the window and looked out across the grounds.
This place had always been her home and Florentina had grown very fond of it indeed. The many pleasant memories of both her childhood and her formative years had been a great comfort to her over the past year. Her father’s presence still lingered in the house and grounds, and Florentina could not bear to even consider stepping away from it all. Her mother’s talk of London had greatly unsettled her, though she had done her best not to reveal the full extent of it to Lady Haddington. Florentina did not feel ready to depart for London, to leave behind her home and some of her sisters. There was only one reason for her to attend the Season, and that would be solely to find a husband. To do so would separate her from this life forever and bring about so many changes that the very thought of it sent a cold hand grasping at her heart.
She closed her eyes, stirring her tea mechanically as she fought against a great and troublesome anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her, sending a tremor through her frame. To wed would be to begin anew, to leave behind the only life she had ever known, with a new home, a new place, and an uncertainfuture. It would mean being parted from her sisters and her mother, and perhaps even stealing some of the memories she was so desperate to cling to.
Swallowing hard, Florentina forced herself to take a sip of her tea . In doing so, she felt some of the cold fear lift from her chest. This was something she had always known would be in her future, even before her father’s death. It was expected. She was to marry, to begin a new life with her husband at whatever estate he owned. There would be no more daily communion with her sisters and mother; she would no longer enjoy their constant company.
I am not ready.
The thought was stolen from her as a sudden movement caught her eye. Frowning, Florentina leaned a little closer to the window, only to realise that a horse and rider were approaching the house. They were not coming with any great speed, however, as a messenger might do, but rode at a gentle pace as though the rider wished to make certain of his path.
“Christiana,” she said, slowly. “Might you join me here for a moment?”
There was no response and, frustrated, Florentina twisted her head in her sister’s direction, seeing how Christiana was still intently reading her book. “Christiana!” she exclaimed, making her sister jump in surprise. “Come, please!” She gestured to the window. “There is someone approaching.”
“Coming to the house?” Christiana replied, sounding faintly surprised. “There is probably some note or letter being delivered, that is all.” She set down her book, however and came to join Florentina by the window, scrunching up her eyes as she peered through the glass. “It is much too early for callers!”
“I do not think it is a messenger,” Florentina replied, feeling a small sense of unease begin to settle over her. “There is no urgency in his riding.”
Christiana shrugged. “Mayhap it is a lazy messenger.”
Despite her worry, Florentina could not help but laugh, throwing a quick glance towards her sister. “Mayhap it is.” She turned back to the window, only to see yet another rider coming after the first, although this one rode at a greater speed as though he wished to catch the other rider. Her brow furrowed. Two messengers? It did not make sense.
The door behind them suddenly flew open, banging back hard against the door and making them both start in surprise. Turning, Florentina was astonished to see her mother framed in the doorway, her hand pressing the door back so that it stayed in place whilst her other hand grasped the letter that Florentina presumed was from Henry.
“Mama?” she heard Christiana say, hearing the slight tremor in her sister’s voice and realising with horror, that Lady Haddington was sheet white. “Mama, whatever is the matter?”
Florentina hurried forward at once as her mother shook her head, wordlessly. Reaching her, Florentina took one arm whilst Christiana took the other, guiding Lady Haddington to a chair so that she might sit down without delay. Uncertain as to what had struck her mother with such an ailment, Florentina bent down beside her and looked up into Lady Haddington’s face, whilst Christiana quickly poured a cup of tea before ringing the bell.
“Mama,” Florentina said, rubbing her mother’s cold hand. “What is the matter?”
Lady Haddington did not speak. Instead, she simply closed her eyes tightly, her breathing ragged and her hand grasping Florentina’s. A single tear escaped from her closed eyes, making its way down her cheek until it dripped from her chin. Florentina shared a look with her sister, feeling her heart pounding with fright as she struggled to comprehend what was going on. Her mother was yet to say a single word and Florentina did not have even the smallest notion as to what to do. She wanted to comforther mother but, in having no awareness as to what the difficulty was, could do nothing but wait.
“Mama,” Christiana said, softly, bending down so that she too was looking up into her mother’s face. “Tell us, what has caused you such distress? Are you unwell?”
Lady Haddington shook her head, drawing in such a tight breath that it rasped hoarsely. When she let her breath out, it was half a sob, half a cry and, as she did so, she handed Florentina the letter.
Florentina grasped it, smoothing it out quickly as her eyes sought to find the first line. Her heart hammered furiously, her eyes a little blurred as the fear that Henry too had met an untimely end began to course through her.
“‘My dear mother,’” she began to read, that immediate fear disappearing from her heart. “‘There is much I must explain but, in short, there will be a gentleman soon arriving who must be given every consideration. Nothing is to be held back from him, for, in truth, it is he who now has ownership of this manor house.’” Her voice faded away to nothing as she finished reading, the last sentence becoming a barely audible whisper. She could not take in what she had read, hearing her sister gasp aloud whilst her mother began to sob openly.
The house belongs to another?
