Page 37 of A Sense of Fate
‘Are you going to tell me who it is, Pawson, or should I guess?’
‘Conrad,’ Pawson replied succinctly.
‘Good God! What the hell is he doing here? Can’t help admiring his nerve, but then he always was a presumptuous cove.’
‘Absolutely no idea what he wants. He wouldn’t tell the likes of me. Quite full of himself, so he is. That much was evident just from the few words we exchanged. I’ll throw him out of you like. In fact, it would be my pleasure, but given his interest in Flora, I thought you might want to receive him.’
‘I suppose I had better.’ Archie sighed, filled with misgivings. ‘Send him in, Pawson, and stay yourself. Whatever he has to say, I have a feeling that I shall need a witness.’
Archie remained seated behind his desk when Pawson showed Conrad in. He assessed the man as he strolled into the library as though he owned it. To Archie it felt as though he was deliberately accentuating his agility; flaunting the fact that his limbs were fully functional, lithe and limber. That, Archie decided, was a situation that could easily be rectified.
He was well dressed and, Archie conceded, handsome and self-assured. He possessed a shallow level of charm that had appealed to the ladies in their younger days, and probably still did. He was cunning and not, Archie knew, a man to be underestimated. He probably didn’t realise that his poised display failed to cover the fact that he was also nervous, as evidenced by the tic working beneath his left eye when he glanced at Archie. That situation permitted Archie to regain the upper hand—at least in his mind, where it had never been in doubt.
‘Don’t get up, Felsham,’ Conrad said.
‘I hadn’t intended to.’
Archie motioned to the chair in front of his desk without offering his visitor the courtesy of a handshake. He watched dispassionately as Conrad settled himself in a casual pose, sitting sideways on his chair with one leg crossed over his opposite knee as he examined the booklined walls. Despite the pretence at relaxation, Conrad looked taken aback by Archie’s acerbic tone, causing him to wonder what other type of reaction he could possibly have expected. They had never been friends—quite the reverse, in fact—and often found themselves competing for the same female’s favours. Archie inevitably won those confrontations, leaving Conrad feeling humiliated. He had been heard to complain that Archie’s title and expectations gave him the edge.
‘What can I do for you?’
Conrad sent Pawson a meaningful look over his shoulder. ‘It’s a delicate matter.’
‘You can speak freely in front of Pawson.’
Conrad looked set to argue the point but wisely changed his mind. ‘I was both surprised and delighted to learn that you were not dead.’ Archie swallowed down his anger at the other man’s obvious insincerity, but remained silent. ‘We are all older and wiser now. The wild ways of our youth are behind us—as, I hope, is the competition. Anyway, I ought to have written and for that I apologise.’
‘Get to the point, Conrad.’
‘Very well.’ But he paused, apparently in no rush to comply. ‘I am an ambassador nowadays.’ Archie quirked a brow but said nothing, well aware that silences tended to make men who were already nervous lose their perspective. ‘Not to put too fine a point on it, I come on behalf of Salisbury Cathedral’s dean, whom I have the privilege of representing.’
‘I don’t have any dealings with the cathedral, but if I did I would conduct them directly with the bishop.’
Archie’s suspicions were borne out and he felt unnaturally nervous as a consequence. This was about Flora, but Archie had no intention of making matters easy for Conrad by raising her name. A thin line of perspiration had appeared on Conrad’s brow, despite the relative chill in the room, indicating that Archie’s place in the order of things still afforded him a natural superiority that left Conrad feeling disadvantaged.
‘Yes, quite. However, this is a personal matter from the dean’s perspective.’
‘Then he should approach me himself. There is a protocol for such things.’
‘You are a marquess, a busy man.’ A note of sarcasm crept into the man’s tone, reinforcing Archie’s earlier assumptions about his dissatisfaction. ‘Even so, the matter is delicate.’ Conrad cleared his throat. ‘It concerns Miss Latimer.’
Archie fixed Conrad with a look of studied nonchalance and said nothing. The silence stretched out, highlighting their mutual antipathy, broken only by the sound of the long clock ticking in the corner of the room. Archie made no effort to hide his contempt, and it looked to him that Conrad was struggling to conceal his own feelings as Archie’s attitude emphasised the difference in their respective situations; a haughty marquess deigning to receive an underling. If he wasn’t so worried about Conrad’s interference in Flora’s affairs, to say nothing of his connection to her father, he would almost be enjoying himself.
‘Yes, Miss Latimer.’ Conrad cleared his throat, the sound unnaturally loud. ‘I understand she spent the day here yesterday.’ Archie’s expression remained carved in stone, further increasing Conrad’s discomfort. ‘Her father takes a dim view of her spending her day with an unmarried man, risking her reputation.’
‘What exactly are you implying?’ Archie asked, his tone silk on steel.
‘Come off it, Felsham, we all know what you were capable of in your younger years, and leopards don’t change their spots. Miss Latimer is an innocent, the daughter of a clergyman and no doubt overwhelmed by your position of authority, her soft heart moved by your disability. But she’s a prime piece, and I can quite understand your attraction. A man must have some sport, after all.’ Conrad flashed an insolent smile. ‘I wonder if she knows how you came to incur your injuries.’
The barb was intended to wound, and found its mark, but not so much as a flicker in Archie’s expression gave the fact away. ‘Get to the point, Conrad. I don’t have all day.’
‘The point is that the dean has plans for his daughter that do not require her reputation to be sullied.’
Archie threw back his head and laughed. ‘You don’t know Miss Latimer very well if you think she will allow her father to dictate her future. She is of age and has independent means. She mentioned you to me in passing, as a matter of fact, and also told me that your advances were unwelcome. What implications should we draw from that, Pawson?’
‘Desperation?’ Pawson replied succinctly, earning himself a sullen scowl from Conrad. Underlings daring to interfere in gentlemen’s business would not find favour with the socially conscious Conrad, which is precisely why Archie had asked for Pawson’s opinion.
‘I tend to agree,’ Archie said. ‘You must be desperate to have come here in such a brazen manner to warn me off, Conrad. What is it that you want from her, other than the obvious?’
