Page 44 of A Sense of Fate
He had paused with a tankard of ale halfway to his lips when he heard Flora’s name mentioned in connection with Felsham. It felt as though steam bellowed from his ears. Clearly, being incapacitated hadn’t slowed Felsham down, and once again he was poaching on Elroy’s territory. Latimer had mentioned in passing that his daughter had become acquainted with the marquess during her employment at Beranger Hall, but the significance of her removal to Lyneham, on Felsham’s doorstep, had not previously occurred to either man.
The situation was dangerous. If Flora was on friendly terms with Felsham and she innocently remarked upon what Latimer thought she might know, Felsham would understand the significance of that revelation. He was also powerful enough to do something about it. Elroy had underestimated him once, and wouldn’t make the same mistake a second time.
Flora and Felsham had to be separated before any damage could be done. Felsham would never marry such a lowly creature—and marriage, despite her ridiculous bid for independence, must be what Flora secretly craved. The respectability of a ring on her finger was what every young woman desired. Flora must simply be made to lower her expectations, and Elroy was just the man to open her eyes.
It surely couldn’t be that hard.
Except that it had been, forcing Elroy into his rash decision to tackle the situation by confronting Felsham directly. Besides, he was curious to see how the cripple now coped. He hadn’t stood at all during Elroy’s visit and he was unable to decide now, after the event, if that was because he didn’t have the use of his legs or whether it was designed as a slight. What he had seen of the man, his upper body behind his solid desk, was a grave disappointment. He seemed as robust and arrogantly self-assured as ever, and Elroy had never been in charge of a situation that he had been expecting to control.
Felsham had shown his true cowardly colours by keeping his man in the room, presumably because he would be unable to defend himself in the event of a physical altercation arising between the two men. Not that Elroy would ever attack a cripple. He had not fallen quite that low. He had intended to wound with words, not punches, but he hadn’t even managed to achieve that objective.
In all probability, all he had done by warning Felsham away from Flora was to drive them together. Elroy took one hand off the reins and bashed the side of his head with his gloved fist.
‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ he said repeatedly to the disinterested horse. ‘Use your sense and take charge of the situation before you make matters worse and Latimer finds out what you have done.’
Elroy returned the conveyance and miserable excuse for a nag to the Stag and Hounds’ mews, and was about to warm himself up in the taproom when he noticed a familiar figure striding along the road towards him. He blinked, at first assuming that he must be losing his mind. He had been thinking about Latimer and conjured up his image in his mind.
‘What the devil are you doing here?’
The sound of the impatient voice convinced Elroy that he hadn’t lost his senses quite yet. ‘Good morning,’ Elroy replied politely. ‘I did not expect to see you here either,’ he added, hoping that Latimer wouldn’t press him for a reason for his presence in Lyneham.
‘My youngest daughter has taken it upon herself to run off to her sister’s house.’ Latimer made the admission grudgingly. ‘I have come to take her home again.’
Youngest daughter? Latimer had so many daughters that it took Elroy a moment to recall a spritely little thing who showed signs of growing into a real beauty—the only one of Latimer’s brood who could lay claim to that distinction. The same child who’d been caught eavesdropping the day before. Elroy ran his mind through the conversation she had overheard, trying to decide if there had been anything of an inflammatory nature said that she could run to her sister with.
‘Whyever would she do that?’ Elroy asked, having a pretty good idea. He had heard the child’s screams as her father punished her when he left Latimer’s abode. Presumably he had gone too far. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Latimer threw up his hands. ‘What possesses females to do half the things that they do? However, the why is not significant. Getting her home again is all that signifies. She will regret the day when she put me to such inconvenience, I don’t mind telling you.’
Elroy nodded, well able to believe it. ‘Shall I accompany you?’
‘Best not. I don’t want either of my troublesome daughters to imagine that I require reinforcements to impose my will.’
Perish the thought.‘In that case, I will warm myself in the taproom. Call for me when you have the child and we can travel back on the train together.’
Latimer grunted, which Elroy assumed to be a gesture of agreement, and carried on his way.
Chapter Ten
Flora watched her father warily, waiting to see how he would respond to her calm assumption of authority. He was disinclined to take orders from anyone, especially a daughter whom he still considered to be his responsibility. He stood where he was for what seemed like an eternity before nodding curtly and with obvious reluctance.
‘Very well,’ he said.
The prospect of being heard by her servants as he laid down the law, a situation that he must have realised would be gossiped about and exaggerated with every retelling, had obviously overcome his determination to stamp his authority from the outset. He hadn’t risen to such an influential position within the church without knowing how to adapt his stance. Having not one but two of his daughters defying his right to parental obedience probably made him realise that his family was fragmenting, which would reflect badly upon him. That, Flora knew, would be his primary concern, as evidenced by the fact that his jaw vibrated with suppressed rage.
Planning all the arguments she had intended to put forward in Melanie’s defence was one thing. Finding the courage to voice them in the face her father’s blistering and barely controlled anger was entirely another. Flora felt a moment’s insecurity as she realised what a powerful adversary she had taken on. Then she recalled Melanie’s horrific injuries and her determination to keep her sister safe from her father’s unnecessary cruelty and further abuse banished her nerves.
‘Go with Polly,’ Flora said softly to Melanie, squeezing her arm. ‘I will come and get you directly.’
Her father sent a disapproving look Melanie’s way as she left the room, her fear palpable as she clasped Polly’s hand and cast frequent worried looks over her shoulder in Flora’s direction. Whether it was her clothing their father disapproved of, or Melanie’s presence here, Flora had yet to decide. She closed the door behind her sister, took a deep breath and resumed her chair beside the fire.
‘Sit down, Father.’ She motioned to the chair across from her but did not ring for tea. Whatever the outcome of an interview that would be distasteful to them both, Floral would not prolong it unnecessarily by offering refreshments or pretending to be pleased to see him. They both knew that their relationship had gone beyond that point. ‘We should discuss this situation like rational adults.’
‘There is nothing to discuss,’ her father replied, perching on the edge of a chair, his posture ramrod straight, his expression one of righteous indignation. ‘What you did or said to your sister in private to encourage her to rebel is not a subject I wish to dwell upon. All that signifies is that she will return to her home, away from temptation and unsavoury influences, now. Immediately. Today.’
Flora wanted to ask what temptations he was referring to, but since she was aware that they didn’t exist anywhere other than in her father’s imagination, she refrained from voicing the question. ‘I disagree,’ she contented herself with saying.
‘Which cuts no ice with me. It grieves me to admit defeat in your case, and I cannot begin to imagine what your mother and I did to make you resent your parents and forget the duty that you owe to us. Rest assured, I have wasted many hours that could have been put to better use dwelling upon that particular subject.’
