Page 2 of A Sense of Turmoil
‘Nonsense,’ Flora replied, stroking Zeus, the countess’s white cat, as he rubbed his head against Flora’s legs and then leapt nimbly onto his mistress’s lap. ‘She was here just last week. Don’t pretend that you have forgotten because I’m sure you have not.’
‘Luke is on his way home,’ Mary added. ‘Paul says he will be with us again within the week.’
Sandwell returned with tea and a light meal for the countess. Flora arranged the contents of the tray on a side table and poured tea for the old lady. Her hand shook as she took the cup and saucer from Flora.
‘Where has he gone? Remind me again. Most likely carousing with that rascal Archie Hardwick.’
‘He’s Lord Felsham now, Grandmamma. The old marquess died a few months ago.’
‘I’ll be seeing him soon, then.’
‘Not too soon, I hope, ma’am,’ Flora said briskly. ‘Cook has made your favourite almond blancmange.’ She passed the sweet treat to the countess. ‘It would be a shame to waste her efforts.’
The countess sent Flora a mulish look and picked up her spoon.
‘The marquess died just after Mary’s wedding, ma’am, so the new marquess is still in full mourning and hardly in a position to carouse.’
‘Ha! That won’t stop the fortune-hunters gathering at his gates,’ the countess replied. ‘The old marquess had a reputation for being a curmudgeon and everyone was terrified of him, but the son will be considered fair game.’
‘His grief will give him an excuse not to receive anyone he’d prefer not to entertain.’ Flora smiled as she thought of Archie Hardwick, crippled by a fall from a lady’s bedroom window when he was still at university with Luke and Paul. ‘I feel rather sorry for him. He is severely lame, and probably feels less of a man as a consequence.’
Mary nodded her agreement. ‘Imagine not even being able to sit astride a horse. I expect he will turn into a recluse.’
‘But he has a duty to marry and produce an heir,’ Flora protested.
‘So does my grandson, but he don’t seem to be in any hurry to do anything about it,’ the countess complained. ‘I’d like to see him settled before I turn up my toes.’
‘Perhaps that is why he procrastinates,’ Flora suggested. ‘He’s in no hurry to part with you—despite all the trouble you cause him.’
‘Insolent miss.’ The countess clucked her tongue. ‘I shall dismiss you tomorrow in all probability.’
Flora smiled, aware that she would do no such thing. She enjoyed the fact that Flora stood up to her and gave as good as she got. None of her predecessors had lasted five minutes, simply because they were terrified of the old lady’s sharp tongue. The countess, as she herself admitted, couldn’t stand empty-headed ninnies and bullied them for her own amusement.
‘I wonder if Luke has enjoyed reacquainting himself with the Flemings,’ Mary said in a speculative tone. ‘They have been running our Boston estate since Papa appointed George Fleming’s late father all those years ago,’ she reminded Flora. ‘When our parents were taken…’ She swallowed and paused to regain her composure. ‘After Mama and Papa were taken from us, Luke was overwhelmed by the responsibilities he inherited far sooner than he’d expected to andI think he was glad to have someone dependable looking out for our interests in America. Luke was at university with George at the time, but Mr Fleming decided to relocate the entire family to Boston when the opportunity to manage our interests there arose. I’m not sure why. Perhaps because his wife had just died and he wanted a fresh start that wouldn’t remind him of her at every turn. Anyway, old Mr Fleming died a few months ago, and I think George is anxious to introduce his sister to English society now that she is of age.’
‘What are they like?’ Flora asked. ‘Do you know them?’
‘I vaguely recall Ottilie Fleming, but she was more Emma’s age. We didn’t see that much of them. Emma will tell you more, but I don’t recall anything to their detriment. Paul says that they have kept our American interests profitable, so they must be honest and hard working.’
Flora flinched when she felt a familiar rush of wind past her ear. Remus. He didn’t usually put in an appearance in front of others. The fact that he had done so when they were discussing the Flemings greatly concerned Flora.
‘What is it girl?’ the countess asked, peering at Flora. ‘You look as though you’ve just seen a ghost.’
A very apt conclusion, Flora thought, flashing a wry smile. Remus materialised, his handsome face shimmering into view behind the countess, a gold helmet with an extravagant plume gracing his translucent head, implying that he’d just come from the gladiators’ arena. She frowned at him and his image dissipated so quickly that she might almost have imagined it. Flora continued to feel uneasy, wondering what was so urgent about the Flemings’ return to England that Remus had torn himself away from his leisure pursuits in order to warn her about it.
Except that he hadn’t warned her; not really. Remus could besoexasperating.
‘Oh, nothing, ma’am,’ Flora said in response to the countess’s question. ‘Excuse me, I was wool-gathering there for a moment.’
‘Perhaps Luke will settle his interest upon Ottilie, Grandmamma,’ Mary said in a speculative tone. ‘I remember her as being extremely pretty and very accomplished.’
Flora’s heart lurched, but she managed a brittle smile—not because of Mary’s throwaway comment and the prospect of Luke’s marital bliss, she told herself, but because Remus had sent her a warning about the Flemings and she had absolutely no idea what it implied. ‘I shall return this afternoon when Emma arrives,’ she said, bending to kiss her grandmother’s brow.
‘Young people,’ the countess complained, watching Mary go. ‘Always in a hurry. Always something urgent to be done.’
‘Mary is a married woman with responsibilities. She more or less runs this house nowadays.’
‘Bah! The house runs itself.’
