Page 14 of A Sense of Fate
‘Really.’ He gave her a reassuring smile that failed to reassure. Remus didn’t help matters by rolling his eyes. ‘When he told me that you had procured a position with the Earl of Swindon, naturally I was curious. I mentioned that I had been up at Oxford with Swindon and Felsham during the course of conversation one day, and our friendship progressed from there.’
Flora didn’t believe a word of it, but she was worried about this latest stratagem on her father’s part and would have given a very great deal to know what he expected to gain from it.
‘If you are on such friendly terms with Lord Swindon and Lord Felsham, I am surprised that you called upon me rather than either of them.’
He smiled seductively. ‘Ah, but you are far easier on the eye.’
She held back the reprimand that sprang to her lips and remained stonily silent.
‘Do you still see Swindon now that you have left his service?’ he asked.
‘I am on friendly terms with his sisters, so our paths cross regularly.’
‘Felsham is a near neighbour of yours now. I wonder if that is a coincidence.’
Flora fixed him with an expression of mild rebuke. ‘And I wonder what business that could possibly be of yours.’
‘No offence was intended.’ He held up a hand, pushing the palm towards her in an apologetic gesture. ‘I have not seen Felsham since before he…well, died.’ A cynical smile graced his lips, one that Flora ached to wipe off with an acerbic remark in defence of Archie. But Archie was well able to defend himself and wouldn’t thank her for taking up the cudgels on his behalf. ‘Do you see much of him?’
‘From time to time.’ Flora had had quite enough of being quizzed and abruptly stood up. ‘Thank you for calling, Mr Conrad, but it is time for you to leave. Please don’t take offence if I ask you not to visit again.’
He looked surprised but had no choice but to stand when she did. ‘There is a production ofMuch Ado About Nothingin Swindon next week. I had hoped to persuade you to honour me with your company.’
‘Thank you, Mr Conrad, but that will not be possible. You have done as my father probably asked you to and called to check up on me. You will be able to reassure him about my health and confirm that I am not running an opium den or a house of ill repute. And so now…Polly, Mr Conrad is leaving.’
‘Yes, miss.’
Polly jumped up and preceded their unwelcome visitor into the hallway. She handed him his hat and gloves and opened the front door, letting in a blast of frigid air.
‘Your servant, Miss Latimer,’ Conrad said, bowing over her hand. ‘I feel persuaded that our paths will cross again in the near future.’
Flora allowed him to have the last word without responding. She watched the door close behind him and shivered, but not because she was cold. She had seen the anger that flashed through his expression in response to his summary dismissal, but she knew that he wouldn’t be deterred. He had decided to latch onto her and she had not seen the last of him.
‘Would you like some tea now, miss?’ Polly asked, returning to the drawing room as Flora flopped back into her chair, pondering upon Conrad’s clumsy attempt to charm.
‘That would be delightful. Thank you, Polly.’
The girl left the room, clearly bursting with questions. Loyal to the core, she didn’t voice any of them.
Once the tea had been delivered and Flora was alone again, she decided to consult Remus. There was the outside possibility that he might tell her something helpful, but the wretched spirit had disappeared and no matter how hard she reached out to him with her mind he failed to materialise.
‘Probably watching men tearing one another apart at the Coliseum,’ she muttered.
She drank her tea and returned to her grandmother’s diary, but the mood had been spoiled and her mind wandered continuously. She put the book aside with an impatient sigh, wondering if she should let Archie know that Conrad had called. In the end she decided against it. Archie tended to be over-protective and she was obliged to frequently remind him that she was not his responsibility.
She wondered if Conrad had befriended her in the hope of ingratiating himself with Archie or Luke, perhaps in the expectation of offering them investment advice. From what Archie had told her, he would be aware that neither man held Conrad in high esteem and he needed to mend fences with the help of a third party if he was to add their illustrious names to his client list. If that was the case he was clearly not as important to Coutts as he would have her believe. Those in elevated positions did not scour the country in pursuit of clients; they left that sort of thing to their underlings.
Of more concern to Flora was Conrad’s friendship with her father. To the best of her knowledge, Papa didn’t cultivate friendships. He was not sociable by nature and discouraged intimacy in all its guises. Sometimes she felt surprised that he had managed to father five daughters. Papa gathered people around him who could further his ambitions but remained aloof.
‘What are you up to this time, Papa, and why am I still so important to you?’
Elroy Conrad stomped away from Miss Latimer’s hovel of a cottage in a towering rage. How dare the impertinent jade turn her pert little nose up at him as though he was beneath her notice. Who the devil did she think she was? Mixing with the aristocracy had turned her head, and she needed bringing down a peg or two.
Fury radiated through Elroy as he made his way back to the local tavern, where he had left his conveyance. Most women lived and breathed for a moment of his attention, and hung on his every word. He refused to believe that Miss Latimer’s disinterest was genuine. She might have harboured hopes with regard to Swindon, but Elroy could have told her she was wasting her efforts. Swindon or Felsham might be tempted to entice her into their beds—Felsham in particular had the morals of an alley cat—but neither of them would put his ring on her finger. Elroy had good reason to know that the aristocracy didn’t marry or forge friendships outside their own class for fear of lowering standards and letting the side down.
He pushed his way into the taproom, shaking rainwater from the shoulders of his coat and the brim of his hat and stomping his booted feet to restore some feeling into his toes. He took a seat close to the fire and signalled for ale, which was delivered promptly by the willing barmaid who’d given him directions to Miss Latimer’s cottage earlier. Eschewing the curiosity and conversational attempts of the men in the sparsely populated room, he fell to brooding. He reminded himself that none of the problems facing Latimer—either real or imagined—were of his making. He had tried to tell his partner that he had nothing to fear from his daughter. She knew nothing about their activities—she didn’t even suspect—but Latimer’s continued efforts to bring such a stubbornly determined chit to heel might arouse her curiosity. Better to let it be. As a group, they were too powerful to be touched.
Elroy had been forced into accepting an invitation to that dreary wedding, and was curious to meet the young woman who’d found the courage to go against such a strong-willed man as Latimer and forge her own path. More curious still about her connection to Swindon and Felsham, whichwasa cause for concern—a situation that he had chosen not to share with Latimer.
