Page 53 of A Sense of Turmoil
Luke watched his old friend go, sensing the disapproval radiating through him and heartily wishing he could turn back time.
*
Flora returned to the countess, who was sleeping. Just as well, because frail though she now was, she would still have picked up on Flora’s fulminating anger and demanded an explanation for it. She dismissed Sandwell, preferring to be alone to brood in solitude over the arbitrary manner in which Luke had refuted her claims. To accuse her of being jealous! She seethed. How dare he?
And yet a tiny corner of her brain that remained immune to her anger wondered if it was true. She chased the possibility away. She was exceedingly attached to Luke, perhaps even a little in love with him. Be that as it may, she could place hand on heart and say with absolute honesty that she had never aspired to become his countess, if only because he would never accept her psychic abilities. Her father had beaten her into submission in that regard and she would not marry a man who forbade her to depend upon Remus’s advice, or act upon it if the need arose. She wasn’t prepared to hide her abilities either. That would be dishonest.
She should not, she thought as she adjusted the covers when the countess stirred and mumbled in her sleep, have suggested that Luke’s father had been anything other than upstanding and honourable, even though she rather thought that he might have been a bit of a rogue. The things that the countess had told her about him reinforced that opinion. It was a very great pity that the old earl had tried to force standards of behaviour onto his impressionable son that he himself had failed to maintain. If he had not died under such tragic circumstances, then Luke would likely have seen his flaws for himself as he grew into maturity, but it would be hard for him to denigrate the memory of a dead man; a man whom he respected and admired.
The countess had slept all afternoon, but not especially peacefully. The end would come soon now, Flora knew, wiping away a tear. She took comfort from the fact that the old lady would be at peace as she embarked upon the next phase of her existence free from pain. Flora would then lose no time in distancing herself from the man who infuriated, inspired and disappointed her. Luke would marry Ottilie, it didn’t take a paranormal gift to realise that, and Flora had no intention of being here to help celebrate that event.
‘How is she?’
Flora glanced up into Mary’s worried face. ‘Oh, I didn’t hear you come in,’ Flora whispered back. ‘She is comfortable but no longer lucid, I’m afraid.’
Mary looked inordinately sad as she took hold of her grandmother’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
‘Everything is changing,’ she said softly. ‘Grandmamma will soon be gone, and Luke is to marry Ottilie.’
Flora felt no surprise to have her assumption confirmed. ‘He proposed to her?’
‘Yes, today. Paul says he doesn’t seem deliriously happy.’ Mary sent Flora a probing look. Flora found something to adjust on the side table and pretended not to see it. ‘Actually, Paul thinks he has made a mistake.’
‘Because he proposed at such a time?’ Flora suggested, deliberately misinterpreting and nodding at the prone form of the countess, whose ragged breathing echoed through the otherwise quiet room.
‘Well, what’s done is done. We shall sit round the table this evening, drink to the health of the happy couple and try not to think about Grandmamma.’
‘I shall not come down. My place is here by her ladyship’s side, but you may add my congratulations to those of the rest of you if you like.’
‘I admire your fortitude, Flora, and really don’t want you to leave us. I depend upon you so much.’ Mary was openly crying and Flora slipped an arm around her shoulders to comfort her.
‘You will soon be a mother with more than enough to occupy you, Mary. Nothing stays the same forever.’
‘But I thought, we all believed that you and—’
‘Don’t!’ Flora’s sharp tone caused Mary to look at her askance. ‘Please don’t. This is for the best. I shall set up somewhere not too far from here when the time comes and find a way to make myself useful. I hope that we shall still see one another regularly.’
‘I shall hold you to that,’ Mary said, mopping her eyes with her handkerchief. ‘I’m sorry if I seem feeble. The last thing you need is me leaking all over you like a watering pot. I seem to burst into tears for the flimsiest of reasons at the moment.’
Flora smiled. ‘It’s not unusual for ladies in your delicate condition to feel over-emotional. It will pass.’
‘Well anyway, I suppose I had best change for dinner, plaster a smile on my face and go down. Really, I so wanted Luke to marry for love, as the rest of us did. I know nothing to Ottilie’s detriment, and I am sure she will make a very charming countess, but nothing will convince me that Luke is in love with her.’
‘Love will come,’ Flora said wearily. ‘Off you go. I will send word if there is any change in your grandmother’s condition.’
Mary kissed the countess’s brow, repeated the process with Flora, and quietly left the room.
‘Well, ma’am,’ she said, aware that the countess likely couldn’t hear her in her semi-conscious state. ‘It seems that your grandson has made his bed.’
Chapter Fifteen
The countess lingered for another week, then died quietly and peacefully in her sleep, surrounded by her family, two days after the Flemings moved into Denby Lodge.
Flora summoned the doctor, even though there was nothing he could do other than to certify the old lady’s release. Her grandchildren crowded into the room, Mary and Emma sobbing softly into handkerchiefs as their grandmother drew her last ragged breaths. Flora sat at the old lady’s side, clutching her hand. No one tried to dislodge her from a place more suited to an actual member of the family. Sandwell stood respectfully back, openly weeping.
Luke came up behind Flora and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she struggled to remain calm. Their relationship had remained awkwardly formal since the episode in the library. Neither of them had referred to it, even indirectly, nor had either of them seen fit to apologise. Flora had offered Luke her congratulations upon his engagement, resisting the urge to tell him he was making a massive mistake that he would live to regret. He smiled and thanked her but that smile seemed strained. It was almost as though they were strangers when once they had been so intimate, and she no longer had any idea how to talk to him.
‘She’s gone,’ Flora said, choking on a sob, as she sensed the soul leave her body. Zeus, curled up on the bed, let out an unearthly howl.
