Page 53 of A Sense of Misgiving
‘He must know that if he starts unsubstantiated rumours about my family I will fight back hard and publicly,’ Luke mused. ‘I’d imagine that if he’s hopeful of achieving promotion then he would much prefer not to become embroiled in a law suit. The church would take a very dim view.’
‘Which means whatever my grandmother left to me could be potentially more damaging to him personally.’
‘So it would seem.’
Flora sent him a perplexed look. ‘But that is not what I wanted to talk to you about.’ She paused, presumably to collect her thoughts, and Luke waited her out in silence. He admired the way in which the firelight played on her pale features, casting a bronzed hue to her copper curls. Storm clouds gathered in her violet eyes, turning them almost purple, and two spots of colour appeared high on her pale cheekbones. ‘It is obvious to me that whatever I am about to inherit is of vital importance to my father.’ She looked up at Luke, deeply troubled. ‘He kept my grandmother a virtual prisoner because of her supernatural powers. I remember loud arguments just before the end. Slamming doors and raised voices.’ She managed the suggestion of a smile. ‘No one in our household was permitted to slam doors, and certainly not to shout, which is why it stands out in my memory.’
‘I have no doubt,’ Luke replied softly. ‘Go on. I can see you have reached conclusions that perplex you. Share them with me.’
‘Well, it was not long after that incident that Grandmamma died quite unexpectedly.’ Her worried eyes regarded Luke. ‘She was elderly but in relatively good health. It made no sense that her heart should give out so suddenly, but I was too distraught at the time, and too young, to think anything of it. People die when you least expect them to.’ She looked up at him again, pale and very afraid this time. ‘What if the subject of her argument with Papa caused him to…?” She shook her head. “I can hardly bring myself to voice the suggestion.’
Luke caught on immediately. ‘You think your father might have murdered his own mother in order to silence her?’
‘I have absolutely no respect for him, but I wouldn’t want to think that badly of him. Since seeing him yesterday though, I have spent a largely sleepless night thinking about it and cannot come up with any other explanation for his determination to have me back.’
Luke sent her a reassuring smile. ‘Even if you were compelled to return to Salisbury, your grandmother’s inheritance would still come to you.’
Flora shook her head. ‘That I very much doubt. Papa would find a way to get to it first.’
‘There must be something in your father’s past that he’s ashamed of.’ Luke stroked his chin in thoughtful contemplation. ‘And if the particulars came to light they would destroy his ambitions.’ He fixed her with a grim look. ‘Committing matricide would certainly fit that bill, but your grandmother could hardly have written about the crime after her death.’
‘No, but if he did do something terrible and Grandmamma knew about it, there might be clues in her possessions. My father obviously thinks that whatever she kept has the ability to end his career. I doubt that argument I recall so vividly was about the price of candles.’ She gave an elegant flip of one wrist. ‘Anyway, I am glad you have not dismissed my theory out of hand as the raving conclusions of a paranoid female.’
‘There is nothing paranoid about you, my sweet. I am just relieved that he didn’t somehow force you to go back with him yesterday. Naturally, I would have come knocking at his door, creating the devil of a fuss. Rest assured that you father has met his match in me. I am not afraid of him and I wield as much power as he does. Probably more.’
‘Well, I thought you should know. Mr Farthingale will be here soon and then perhaps I shall finally find out what this is about.’
‘Would you like to meet with your grandmother’s attorney alone?’
Flora looked up at him and smiled. ‘Heavens, no. If you can spare the time, and if your headache isn’t too debilitating, then I would much prefer to have you with me. Perhaps you will be able to piece things together better than me.’
‘My headache is of my own making, and will be endured stoically.’
Flora laughed and the gesture eradicated the worry lines around her eyes. ‘When Mr Farthingale leaves, I recommend a long, fast gallop on Onyx. That will clear away the cobwebs.’
‘If Onyx doesn’t take advantage and deposit me on the ground. God alone knows, he never stops trying.’
‘Well then, you will need to keep your failing wits about you if you possibly can.’
A tap at the door preceded Paul putting his head around it. ‘Farthingale’s here,’ he said.
‘Ah, thank you, Paul. Have him sent in.’
Paul disappeared and Luke smiled at his companion, who looked severe again; worried yet determined. ‘Well, my sweet,’ he said, sliding his arms into the coat he had abandoned the moment he entered his library that morning and had seen no occasion to reclaim in Flora’s presence. ‘Hopefully, all will soon be revealed.’
*
Flora was unsure whether to feel more worried or reassured when Luke didn’t dismiss out of hand the possibility of her father having committed matricide. The prospect was too awful to contemplate, and yet being aware of her father’s deep Christian morals and vaunting ambition, it also made a chilling sort of sense.
‘I recall asking Grandmamma once why she permitted Papa to imprison her,’ Flora told Luke as they awaited Mr Farthingale’s arrival. ‘Her response meant nothing at the time, but looking back…’
‘What did she tell you?’
‘That she was his conscience. I asked her what she meant by that. It made no sense since they were barely civil towards one another and Papa flew into terrible rages at the slightest suggestion of her powers.’ She sent him a mischievous smile. ‘At least you don’t respond quite so dismissively to my abilities.’
‘I depend upon your gift absolutely,’ he replied, with a commendably straight face.
‘Liar! But thank you for pretending. Anyway, bear in mind that I was still a child at the time of that dreadful argument. My sisters and I cowered out of sight, petrified that Papa would take his bad temper out on us. It had happened before. I was only about twelve when I found the courage to ask Grandmamma about it, not long before her death, and her explanation meant nothing to me.’ Flora tilted her head in a contemplative manner. ‘There were few things she would not take the time to explain to me, but I sensed that subject was particularly painful to her, so I did not pursue it.’
