Page 49 of A Sense of Paradise
‘Thank you.’ Flora leaned forward and kissed the old lady’s cheek. ‘I shall be seeing him tomorrow and will ask him.’
‘You do that.’ Mrs Finch pulled a shawl more closely about her shoulders, even though the room was over-warm, and settled herself into a more comfortable position. ‘Now, what else did you want to ask me? Something about the French woman you have staying with you, I’ll be bound. I hear tell she’s a little full of herself.’
Flora resisted the urge to ask Mrs Finch how she knew about Eloise. Her encyclopaedic local knowledge was one of the reasons why she had called on her today. ‘She is exquisite, so I suppose she has a right to be proud.’
‘There’s more to life than physical beauty, and you of all people know what the good book says about pride. Your marquess appears to have enough sense to realise that beauty is only skin deep.’
Flora smiled at the backhanded compliment and went on to explain the reason for Eloise’s appearance. She left nothing out about the nature of her relationship with Archie during his convalescence.
‘It shows a generosity of spirit on your part to take the woman into your house, given that she has had carnal knowledge of your intended.’
‘I do feel somewhat threatened by her, I will admit, but Archie went to considerable lengths to convince me that he has no lingering affection for her. I believe him, too. What reason would he have to lie about it?’
‘None whatsoever, lamb. He has the good sense to realise he is better off with you.’
Mrs Finch knew why Flora’s father had fallen so ignominiously from grace, but not about Lord Avery’s participation in the exorcisms. Flora explained everything, pausing whenever Mrs Finch needed to seek clarification or to ask one of her incisive questions.
‘Well, it’s all highly suspicious,’ she said, when Flora ran out of words. ‘You think Lord Avery and your Miss Garnier are somehow in league and the boy’s disappearance is a ruse to gain his lordship’s attention.’
‘I do. How can I not?’ Flora plucked absently at the fabric of her skirt. ‘Lord Avery is seeking to discredit Archie to prevent him from destroying him. He somehow got wind of Eloise’s interest in him and…well, I have absolutely no idea what she hopes to achieve. She must accept by now, having met him again, that she is unlikely to rekindle Archie’s interest in her.’
‘Even so, if she has entered into a pact with Lord Avery, she will not be able to renege upon it.’ The old lady looked very worried. ‘You need to find where Avery is hiding and let Scotland Yard know. I don’t want your marquess, and certainly not you, bearding him.’
‘That is what I wanted to ask you,’ Flora said. ‘You hear everything. Do you know of any remote houses that have recently acquired a new and perhaps secretive tenant?’
‘As a matter of fact, I do.’
Chapter Thirteen
Eloise had been in a state of near perpetual confusion since taking up temporary residence at Fox Hollow. She had been made to feel welcome and treated with courtesy in a home that was far more comfortable than she had anticipated. She had been prepared for very basic accommodation, with no servants. How could a single woman in Flora’s situation afford such luxury? The answer was as obvious as it was baffling.
Archie must keep her.
And on his own doorstep too.
Jealousy ricocheted through Eloise as the word hypocrisy sprang to mind, making her want to scream. She bared her teeth instead and let out a frustrated growl. She hated pretence. Eloise had been proud of her status as Archie’s paramour and had wanted to shout about it from the rooftops. The poor damaged man she adored had returned her affections as they explored one another’s sensuality, Archie finding increasingly inventive ways to overcome his physical limitations. It had been the happiest time of her life.
Miss Latimer’s decorous attitude did not fool Eloise. She pretended to be at odds with her clergyman father, of whom she apparently disapproved. Eloise thought it more likely that she had been disowned when she disgraced the family name with behaviour that was at variance with the teachings of the church. And yet everyone hereabouts treated her with universal respect.
It was baffling.
Eloise hadn’t believed Archie was serious when he told her before leaving France that they would never see one another again. She understood his needs like no other woman ever could, and when they’d been parted for a while and his frustrations grew, she was sure that he would quickly come to the same realisation. The best way to keep him was not to cling, or so she had managed to convince herself at the time. And so she let him go and then waited expectantly for weeks that turned into months for a summons to join him.
A summons that never came.
Maurice absconding to England was almost a relief. She didn’t seriously worry about his wellbeing—he was with his friend in Lord Avery’s care. She was unsure what to make of the Scotland Yard detectives needing to find Lord Avery regarding a murder. Presumably, he possessed information that would help their enquiry. Rogue or not, Eloise knew for a certainty that Avery was no murderer.
He had wanted Eloise. She had been his first choice, and that recollection went some way to restoring Eloise’s battered self-esteem. There was no question of her accepting him, of course, since she was saving herself for Archie and waiting for him to come to his senses. Avery had heard about Archie’s period of recovery in France and commended Eloise for taking such good care of him. English aristocrats were the cream of society, leaders whom thehoi polloilooked up to and respected, he’d told her, and as a marquess’s heir, Archie was a senior member of their select circle. She had, according to Avery, done his class a great service in keeping Archie alive and nursing him back to whatever passed for health, given his condition.
Convinced that Maurice was not in danger, his circumstances offered Eloise a legitimate reason to cross the Channel and seek Archie’s assistance. He would do anything for Maurice, and once he saw her again he would remember what they’d once had and her future would be assured. She had been absolutely sure of it.
Eloise had kept a close watch on the English newspapers and knew that Archie hadn’t announced his intention to marry. Nor had his name been mentioned in respect of the many events that attracted the cream of English society—another sign that he was waiting for her to rejoin him. She needed to act before his circumstances altered, and had gone to all this trouble only to discover that he did not want her after all since he was about to settle for this plain English clergyman’s daughter.
Eloise swallowed down bile as she was forced to accept that humbling truth. He could not have made his lack of interest in her plainer, and Eloise had now been pushed into the even more humiliating situation of being his mistress’s guest. She puffed out her cheeks indignantly, wondering what Archie could possibly see in Flora. There was absolutely nothing exceptional about her and yet she appeared to captivate him. It showed in the way that his gaze softened whenever it came to rest upon her features and in the manner in which his smile lingered, exclusively for her.
Eloise reluctantly conceded that Flora had greatly improved his mobility, so perhaps his actions were driven by gratitude. But if that was the case, why not employ her as a permanent nurse? If he wanted the woman as a mistress as well, that would be fine with Eloise. It was accepted behaviour among the French aristocracy. Eloise simply couldn’t make any sense of the situation. Flora spoke to him with an irreverence that bordered on impertinence and Archie appeared to enjoy their verbal sparring. There was a type of unspoken communication that passed between them at times that made it seem as though they were the only two people in a crowded room.
‘Mon dieu!’ she cried in exasperation.
