Page 32 of A Sense of Fate
Flora warmed her hands in front of the fire, smiling at Zeus when he deigned to jump onto her lap. He fixed her with the accusatory stare of a parent demanding to know where she had been all day. Having made his displeasure at her abandonment clear, he then settled down and purred.
‘You are a contrary creature,’ she told him, smoothing his sleek back. ‘You only ever crave affection on your own terms, or if you think you are being neglected. Since I know that you are sensible enough to have befriended Beatrice, you never go hungry or cold.’ Flora smiled and bestowed a kiss upon the cat’s head. ‘In fact, you are quite horribly spoiled. If you were a child, you would be the sort whom everyone avoided.’
Polly brought Flora her tea and crumpets, and she tipped an indignant Zeus off her lap in order to enjoy her refreshments, still deep in thought about her afternoon with Archie. Things between them had become more intimate, and she sensed it was a deliberate ploy on Archie’s part. What did he expect from her, and would she be willing to oblige him? Would she enter into a liaison with her damaged marquess and become his mistress? A liaison of the type she had never once been tempted to embark upon, even if it would give her the satisfaction of horrifying her father.
Until now.
Remus would be delighted. He lived vicariously through Flora’s exploits and was fond of telling her that she was too strait-laced. He hadn’t appeared at all that day, which was unusual. He didn’t ordinarily waste an opportunity to sigh over Archie. But at least his non-appearance meant that she hadn’t been in danger.
At least not the sort of danger that Remus was charged with protecting her from.
Her willingness to even consider an affair, since that must surely be all that Archie would require from her, both astounded and thrilled her. How far she had come in such a very short space of time.
She was tempted; so very tempted.
‘Are you finished, miss?’
Polly’s voice recalled Flora to the here and now.
‘Thank you, yes.’
‘Would you like anything else?’
‘No thank you. I am still very full from luncheon.’
‘It was a great treat. We ate what you did, but below stairs, and everyone was most obliging.’
Flora smiled. ‘I’m perfectly sure that they were. I dare say Mr Pawson is a figure of authority in the servants’ hall and no one would dare to offend his favourite.’
Polly blushed. ‘I am not his favourite.’
Flora laughed. ‘Of course you are not.’
‘Well anyway, it was a lovely day.’ Polly picked up Flora’s tray. ‘I’ll leave you in peace, Miss Latimer.’
Flora watched the girl go, wondering how to occupy her evening. She was still unaccustomed to idleness, since it hadn’t been permitted in her childhood home. The devil made work for idle hands, apparently. Deciding that she would indulge herself with a novel, she had only just picked up the book when a commotion outside had her glancing out of the window, the view partially obscured by the snow gathering against the glass. She felt a chill trickle down her spine that had nothing to do with the weather conditions. She worried that Mr Conrad had contrived to call at a time when he assumed he wouldn’t be turned away again on account of the fat snowflakes that were now falling thick and fast.
If that was the case, he would soon discover his mistake.
‘Bring her in at once!’
Her?The sound of Polly’s stricken tone caused Flora to jump to her feet and run into the hallway.
‘What’s happened?’ She blinked at the sight of the landlord of the Stag and Hounds, standing in the open doorway with a semi-conscious young woman in his arms. Flora was no doctor but she would do what she could for the child, which was presumably why Mr Trench had brought her to Fox Hollow. ‘Mr Trench? What on earth…’
‘This young lady was…’
‘Flora? Must find Flora…’
The young woman stirred in Mr Trench’s arms, muttering Flora’s name incoherently. Flora hadn’t yet seen her face since it was obscured by wet hair, but she recognised the voice immediately. ‘Melanie? Oh good heavens.’ Flora’s mind span. What on earth was her sister doing here, alone and soaked to the skin. ‘Bring her in and put her in front of the fire please, Mr Trench.’
The big man nodded and carried Flora’s sister as easily as if she weighed nothing at all. Compared to the barrels of ale that he was constantly obliged to heft during the course of his working days, Melanie must be a much easier burden. He placed her gently down on the settee closest to the blaze, then stood back and scratched his head.
‘I didn’t know quite what…’
‘You did the right thing, Mr Trench. Thank you so much. Polly, please bring hot tea for Mr Trench.’ Flora crouched down in front of Melanie and took her frozen hands in her own. Melanie flinched at the touch and Flora released them again, recognising raw fear when she saw it. ‘Fetch a blanket please, Polly, and have Beatrice heat up some soup for my sister.’ Flora squeezed Melanie’s arm. ‘Get warm, darling. I will be but a moment.’
She took Mr Trench aside. ‘What happened?’ she asked. ‘How did she get to be in this state? Did she come alone?’
