‘I certainly don’t grant you permission to call me Flora. We are barely acquainted.’ She slammed the sandwiches onto a plate. ‘Men around here eat them with the crusts left on. Does that suit you?’
‘Good grief, you really are fierce.’ He smirked as she proffered him the plate as if she’d prefer to throw it. ‘Ouch!’ he cried suddenly, swiping at the small furry menace that had just bitten his ankle. ‘Your kitten doesn’t seem to approve of me either.’
Flora suppressed a smile as she swept up Panther into the crook of her arm and turned away to pour the tea.
‘Miss MacNichol, is there any way we could start afresh? Given that the first incident with the crab apples was when I was a snot-nosed child of six and the second, a regrettable accident.’
‘Lord Vaughan,’ she rounded on him, ‘I have no idea why you are here or why you seem to care what I think of you when, from what my sister says, half the young women in London are continually worshipping your attributes. If it’s simply because you cannot bear that there is one woman in the world who you cannot seduce, then I am sad for you, but it is simply the way things are. Now, shall we carry the tray onto the terrace?’
‘Allow me. And you take him.’ Archie indicated Panther. ‘That fierce tiger in kitten’s clothes needs to be kept under control in case he attacks me again. You have chosen your pet perfectly, Miss MacNichol.’ Archie swept up the tea tray and walked towards the door.
Outside on the terrace, the sun shone merrily, in complete contrast to the pall of silence that hung between them. Flora poured the tea and they sat together as Archie devoured the sandwiches with the crusts left on them, knowing she was being intolerably rude. If her mother could see her, Rose would certainly have admonished her severely for her behaviour, but she could not bring herself to make polite conversation. Neither, it seemed, could Archie.
‘If you’ll excuse me,’ she said eventually, ‘I must go and collect my sketchpad before it gets damp.’ She rose from the table, indicating the lawn.
‘Of course.’ He nodded. ‘And please take that tiger with you.’
When she returned, Archie was standing. ‘Thank you for your hospitality. I am only sad that you seem to have the wrong impression of me and I can’t convince you otherwise. I will see you anon, Miss MacNichol.’
‘I am sure I do not have the wrong impression, but my sister will be very happy to entertain you should you find yourself in these parts again.’ Flora put her sketchpad down on the table, and Archie’s eyes followed it.
‘May I take a look?’
‘There’s nothing worth looking at. They’re just rough sketches, I . . .’
But Archie had already opened the pad and was leafing through the charcoal drawings. ‘Miss MacNichol, you underestimate your talent. Some of these are outstanding. This falcon . . . and that sketch of your black tiger . . .’
‘Panther is his name.’
‘Perfect,’ he acknowledged. ‘Well, it’s superb. Quite superb. You have a real eye for nature and animals.’
‘I draw purely for my own pleasure.’
‘But surely, that’s what all the great artists do? The passion comes from within, the need to express oneself in whatever artistic medium one chooses.’
‘Yes,’ Flora agreed grudgingly.
‘When I was on my tour in Europe, I saw many incredible works of art. Yet so many of their creators lived in poverty for much of their lives – slaves to their muses. It seems there were few who didn’t suffer one way or another.’ Archie’s gaze moved from the sketchbook to Flora. ‘Are you in pain too, Miss MacNichol?’
‘What a question! Just because I choose to draw and paint hardly signifies that I suffer from some form of mental or emotional malady.’
‘Good. For I wouldn’t wish you to suffer. Or be lonely. Surely, rattling around in this old mausoleum all by yourself, you must be?’ Archie pressed her.
‘I’m not by myself. I have the staff and an entire menagerie of animals to keep me company.’
‘Your sister mentioned your . . . collection of wildlife when last we spoke in London. Apparently, you once befriended a snake.’
‘A harmless grass snake, yes,’ Flora conceded, feeling breathless at his sudden hail of questions, which felt rather like the crab apples he’d once thrown at her. ‘I was not allowed to keep it.’
‘I think even I would balk at the idea of a snake living under my roof. You are a very unusual woman, Miss MacNichol. I have to admit that you fascinate me.’
‘I am glad that my oddness keeps you amused.’
‘Well, I salute you, Miss MacNichol,’ Archie said after a pause. ‘You are adept at turning even the most positive comment into a negative. What more can I do to earn your forgiveness? I have tried just about everything, including motoring up and down the country when I could easily have taken the Scotch Express train straight to Edinburgh and back. There,’ he added, and Flora could see his frustration. ‘I have told you the truth.’
As if drained by his confession, Archie sat down suddenly in a chair. ‘I left the shoot early to come and see you. But as it’s obvious I cannot gain your favour, no matter how hard I try, I will continue on my way, and stop further down south at a hotel.’
Flora surveyed him, her lack of experience with men – especially men as worldly as Archie – hampering her natural instincts. She simply could not understand why he had so inconvenienced himself to apologise to her when apparently he could have any woman in London he wished for.
‘I . . . don’t know what to say.’
‘Perhaps you could consider granting me a few days in your company? And during that time, we could talk of all the subjects your sister tells me you are passionate about. As I am too.’
‘Such as?’
‘I’m a keen botanist, Miss MacNichol, and though it’s doubtful I have the extensive knowledge that you possess, I like to feel that I am on the nursery slopes of my learning. Though our garden at High Weald does not have the backdrop of raw beauty you have here, it’s equally beautiful in its own gentle way. Have you ever been to Kew Gardens?’
‘No.’ Flora brightened at the mention. ‘But I have always longed to see it. I have read that they collect species from all over the world, as far away as South America.’
‘Indeed they do, and the new director, Sir David Prain, is inspired. He’s been kind enough to lend his assistance to our own gardens. Due to the benevolent climate in the south of England, I have discovered that if sheltered, plants from foreign climes do manage to thrive there. I would enjoy seeing the indigenous flora that must grow plentifully around here too. I am eager to create an unusual collection of plants from all over England— Ouch!’