‘Your daughter drives herself in the trap?’ asked Lady Vaughan, her sharp features forming a moue of disapproval.
‘Not usually, of course, Arabella dear, but this morning our driver was unwell and Flora had some urgent business to attend to in Hawkshead.’
‘Forgive me, Mama,’ Flora repeated as luncheon was finally served. Even though she did all she could to concentrate on the rather vacuous Elizabeth, Archie’s sister, next to her, and her talk of the splendours of her wardrobe for the forthcoming Season, she felt ‘Lord’ Archie’s apologetic eyes boring into her across the table. Aurelia had been placed next to him and was doing her best to engage him in conversation, but he seemed as distracted as Flora was. As she struggled through the main course of spring lamb, leaving the meat to one side, she comforted herself with the idea of luring Archie down to the stables, then delivering a swift punch to his arrogant aristocratic nose. At last, Alistair pulled back his chair and announced he was retiring to his study to attend to some paperwork.
‘Arabella, Elizabeth and I will adjourn to the drawing room.’ Rose stood up. ‘We have much to catch up on, don’t we, my dear?’
‘Indeed we do,’ replied Lady Vaughan.
‘Aurelia, perhaps you might like to escort Archie around the gardens? The day seems warm enough, as long as you wrap up. Aurelia suffered a dreadful cold a few weeks ago, but then that’s what comes of living in the godforsaken north,’ Rose explained to Lady Vaughan.
Being the only member of the party left without further instructions, Flora rose last and followed them out of the dining room. As she walked through the hallway, she saw that Rose, Lady Vaughan and Elizabeth had already disappeared into the drawing room, and Aurelia and Archie were gone through the front door to the gardens.
Flora walked slowly and painfully upstairs to her bedroom. Once safely inside, she locked the door and sank gratefully onto her bed.
Dusk was beginning to fall when she was woken by a soft tap-tapping on her bedroom door.
Rolling gingerly off the bed, she sat upright. ‘Who is it?’
‘It’s me, Aurelia. Can I come in?’
Flora forced herself to stand and walked stiffly to unlock the door.
‘Hello.’
‘Archie told me what happened earlier. How are you feeling?’ Aurelia’s eyes were filled with concern. ‘He was so worried about you and felt absolutely dreadful about it. It was all he could talk about on our walk. He even insisted on writing you a note of apology and I promised that I’d deliver it. Here.’ Aurelia handed her an envelope.
‘Thank you.’ Flora tucked the letter into her pocket.
‘Are you not going to open it?’
‘Later.’
‘Flora, I do understand that the meetings you two have had so far have been . . . unfortunate, but really, Archie is awfully nice. I think you’d like him if you gave him the chance. I do . . . a lot.’
Flora saw Aurelia’s gaze drift dreamily towards the window.
‘Good grief, Aurelia! You’re not soft on him already, are you?’
‘I . . . no, of course not, but even you must admit he is frightfully handsome. And so accomplished too. He seems to have read every book ever written and spent a year doing the Grand Tour in Europe, so he’s very cultured. I felt quite the simpleton during our conversation.’
‘Archie has had the privilege of a proper education, which, sadly, we females don’t seem to be worthy of,’ Flora countered.
‘Well . . .’ Aurelia knew that when her sister was in one of her moods, it was pointless trying to argue with her. ‘It’s just the way it is and as there’s nothing we can do to change it, we must accept it. Sometimes, I feel you don’t like being a woman.’
‘You’re right, maybe I don’t. Anyway,’ Flora continued, her countenance softening as she saw Aurelia’s discomfort. ‘Just ignore me, darling, it’s not only my body that has been bruised, but my pride as well. I presume our guests have left?’
‘Yes, but I hope to see a lot of them during the Season. Their London home is in the neighbouring square to Aunt Charlotte’s house. And Elizabeth was so kind to me, telling me about all the girls who will be coming out with us. Even Archie said he may come to a couple of the dances this year.’
There’s that look again, Flora thought, as her sister’s voice trailed off into a private reverie.
‘Are you coming down for dinner?’ Aurelia asked eventually. ‘I can always tell Mama you have a headache and she’ll have Mrs Hillbeck send up a tray. You’re very pale.’
‘Thank you. I think it’s best I stay in bed, I don’t feel myself tonight.’
‘I’ll come back and see how you are after dinner. Are you sure you don’t want me to tell Mama the truth?’
‘No. She’d only fuss. Really, Aurelia, I’m fine.’
Once her sister had left the room, Flora put her hand into her pocket and fingered the envelope that lay inside. Drawing it out, she considered whether she should simply tear it up and burn it on the fire, for whatever he had written could hardly matter. Curiosity getting the better of her, she ripped it open, noting the beautiful script, and read the contents.
My dear Miss MacNichol,
I beg your forgiveness for the unfortunate incident earlier today. I had a deal of a task to get my horse under control, and once I did, I rode after you to see if you needed assistance, but could not find you.
I also wish to apologise for my spiteful behaviour with the crab apples. Before today’s new catastrophe, I had made up my mind to beg your forgiveness retrospectively, and to thank you for not doing what most little girls would have done, and go running in tears to your mama. It saved me a beating.
If there is anything I can do to redeem myself in your eyes, I would like very much to try. Our acquaintance so far has been turbulent, but I hope I may be given a chance in the future to begin afresh. Third time lucky, as they say.
I will see you, I am sure, in London this Season. Until then, I am your humble and apologetic servant,
Archie Vaughan
Flora threw the letter across the room. She watched it float briefly through the air like a distressed butterfly before landing on the floor, and decided Archie Vaughan must be well practised at writing fine, elegant prose to women. Though she hated to admit it, Aurelia was right. He had a strong physique and chiselled features that the slight dimple in each cheek only enhanced, his wavy dark hair hung carelessly across his brow, and his brown eyes slanted into an easy smile. He was truly, annoyingly handsome.
But his character was a different matter altogether.
‘He assumes he will always be forgiven. Well, not this time,’ she muttered as she walked back across the room and coaxed her stiff body to kneel in front of the cages. The general scuffling from within had alerted her to the fact it was well past her menagerie’s suppertime. Reaching for the crate she used to store her seeds and vegetables, she let out a groan of despair.
‘And after all that, your food must have fallen out of the trap!’