Page 27 of A Sense of Turmoil
‘Oh good heavens yes!’ The old lady closed her eyes and cackled. ‘The apple didn’t fall far from that particular tree. Archie’s father was a handsome devil too, and quite without morals, just like the son. He and my Peter were good friends.’
‘Really? I was not aware. Your son was not of similar questionable morals, I hope.’
‘There you go again with your Christian probity. Gentlemen, my girl, live by a different code to the rest of us. Always have and always will.’
‘The rules of conduct don’t apply to them. Is that what you are saying?’ Flora screwed up her nose. ‘I should take a very dim view of it if I married and my husband chose to ignore his wedding vows. That is why I shall never take a husband, nor will I need to, since the legacy left to me by my grandmother affords me the happy luxury of pleasing myself. My father won’t like it, but there is nothing he can do to prevent me from setting up home alone.’
‘That’s a pity. There is a great deal to be said for bedroom sport and you will never find out if you remain the virgin for ever. The thing with being chaste is that one day you need to be caught.’ The old woman’s cackle turned into a cough.
‘Who said anything about remaining a virgin?’ Flora laughed at the countess’s look of surprise. It was rare for her to be able to shock her incorrigible charge. ‘I must have been mixing with Archie for too long,’ she said. ‘But still, your remarks regarding your son’s conduct did surprise me. Luke speaks of his mother and father with great affection. I got the impression that they were doting parents who loved one another dearly.’
‘They were. Luke looked up to his father, respected him and wanted to be just like him when it came time to discharge his duties as the future earl. But I did not approve of my son’s choice of bride and told him he was making a massive mistake, one that he would live to regret.’ The old lady coughed again and paused to take a sip of water. ‘I had nothing specific against Suzanna. She came from an impeccable family, but I knew that my son didn’t love her and that she only wanted him because she aspired to his title.’
‘Youarea romantic!’ Flora accused. ‘Despite your efforts to convince me otherwise, I always suspected it.’
‘If you had seen my son with the woman he did have feelings for, then you would understand why I disapproved of his actual choice; a choice forced upon him by a father he would have done almost anything to impress.’
‘I assume that the lady he preferred did not come from the right background.’
‘She was the daughter of a wealthycitand that was simply not acceptable.’
‘It would have lowered the tone,’ Flora said, looking away from the countess to conceal a bitter smile.
‘Aye, love, it would. But times have changed since then.’
‘Have they?’
‘Well anyway, my boy married the lady his father deemed suitable, and she did her duty by him, I’ll give her that. Six healthy children is no mean feat.’ The countess cleared her throat, obviously overcome by emotion. ‘I only succeeded in birthing the one. I lost three more.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Flora said softly. ‘I had no idea.’
‘Aye well, some would say it was your God’s decision. A punishment for sins I had not yet committed. Anyway, neither my son nor Suzanna were happy. I know they argued constantly behind closed doors and that my son sought solace elsewhere when Suzanna lost interest in the intimate side of their marriage—perhaps even before then. I won’t make excuses for the lad, but like I say it’s not that unusual. Peter entered into an arranged marriage to all intents and purposes, so what else can you expect? They had nothing in common, Suzanna took no interest in the estate other than the status it offered, and she and Peter had nothing to talk about other than their children. It was inevitable that they would develop different circles of friends and lead separate lives.’
The countess had never opened up to Flora about her son before now, and she suspected that she was telling her things about the family that not even Luke knew. She had also verified Archie’s opinion of her son’s moral conduct, an admission of monumental importance that showed touching faith in Flora’s discretion. Despite her flamboyance during the latter years of her life, the countess set great stock by her family’s reputation. Flora wondered if it was her way of clearing her conscience—not that she had anything to feel guilty about. Even so, Flora knew that it was not uncommon for people to bare their souls when contemplating the end of their lives.
‘Shall we continue with our book?’ she asked, squeezing the countess’s hand.
Chapter Eight
It was another two days before the countess regained her diminished strength. She spent the majority of those two days confined to her bed, fighting against a chest infection and a worryingly persistent cough. Flora bullied her into breathing in hot lemon water to clear her lungs and made up possets to help with her cough. The countess rallied on the second day, but still seemed worryingly frail.
The weather had turned damp, preventing Flora from riding out and curtailing her walks. The Flemings were occupying their time looking at the properties Paul had arranged for them to inspect. Flora had barely exchanged a dozen words with either of them. She had not joined the family at dinner and only saw them if they happened to pass in the upstairs gallery. She was still uncomfortably conscious of George Fleming’s interest in her. He had tried several times to join her on one of her brief walks, but she had seen him approaching and taken a different path. He wouldn’t be the first visitor to the estate who assumed that her status as senior servant made her fair game. Better to avoid him than to risk a dispute with the brother of Luke’s intended.
She caught glimpses of Archie, but nothing more. He, Alvin and Paul went out together on business of their own. Luke sometimes joined them but he seemed distracted, and when he came up to see his grandmother their once easy relationship now seemed tense. She wanted to ask him what had changed. She assumed something must have happened in Boston and he no longer felt comfortable confiding in her.
Of course something had happened, she told herself irritably. Ottilie Fleming had happened. Luke clearly intended to propose, so it would be inappropriate for him to maintain a personal friendship with Flora.
‘It’s me who’s dying, not you,’ the countess complained during one of Luke’s visits, when he appeared distracted. She was gripped by a coughing fit, and Luke sent Flora a worried glance as they waited for it to subside. Flora merely lifted one shoulder, aware that the countess would not appreciate them discussing her state of health in front of her. Besides, she had already warned Luke that there was little more either she or the doctor could do for the countess. ‘The least you can do is give me your full attention for the minute or two you deign to spare me each day.’
Luke smiled, that lazy, seductive smile of his that lit up his features and turned Flora’s insides to mush.
‘Sorry, Grandmamma, I am still catching up with all the problems that built up during my absence, and my mind is full.’
‘Tosh! Paul and your steward have kept the place running like clockwork between them. I know your game.’ She waved an arthritic finger at her grandson. ‘It’s more a case of you getting yourself all worked up over that young miss you invited to stay. And if that’s the case, I had best come down to dinner this evening and cast my eye over her.’
‘Are you sure you’re well enough?’ Luke asked before Flora could.
‘Stop fussing. I’ve made up my mind.’
