‘To be blunt, I liked your sister when I saw her in London, found her sweet-tempered and pretty, and felt she was someone I could at least live with. So, I agreed with your father on the shooting holiday that I should propose to her and that Esthwaite Hall would be sold.’
‘Then why on earth did you come and visit me on your way back?’
‘The truth is, I just . . . don’t know.’ Archie stared at her. ‘All I can say – and I know it isn’t good enough – is that something inside me urged me to. Flora: the little girl I’d pelted with crab apples and then almost killed as I raced on my horse to Esthwaite Hall. Yet who never “told”, like any other girl would have. And now, all grown up, and so clever and fearless and proud, with the kind of strength in her soul that I have never perceived in a woman before. And yes, beautiful too. Forgive me, Flora, I am a man, after all.’
‘You are right. That is not a good enough answer,’ she said eventually.
‘You fascinated me,’ Archie continued. ‘So much so that I came to see you, despite what I had agreed with your father only a day previously. And all that I had imagined when I thought of the woman I wanted to be my wife appeared before me in those days we spent together. And I realised that what I’d always been searching for had been right under my nose all along.’
Flora didn’t dare breathe; she simply continued to concentrate on the flames that danced so lightly in the fire, in contrast to the weight of his heavy gaze upon her.
‘So, I left Esthwaite, and told you that there was a situation which I must address. But by this time, the wheels were already set in motion and Aurelia arrived a few days later at High Weald. I did my best to avoid her, but I could see that both she and my family were becoming frustrated. Nevertheless, I stuck to my guns, and managed not to propose, and eventually she left. I saw her distress, but my resolve and my heart cannot be moved. Because it is you that I love.’
Archie sat down heavily on the chaise longue. Silence hung over the parlour.
‘Will you not respond to my heartfelt declaration, Miss MacNichol?’ Archie pleaded.
Flora finally raised her eyes to him and stood up. ‘Yes, I will. And it is this: you say that everything you have done has been for me. This is not true. Everything you have done has been for you. For some misguided reason, you believe that I hold the key to your happiness. And, in your quest for it, you have caused the sale of our family home, which I must remind you I loved, forcing my parents to live in exile in Scotland. But more importantly, you have also humiliated my sister in front of London society and broken her heart. I ask you, Lord Vaughan, how could any of this possibly have been for me?’
She began to pace as the anger rose inside her. ‘Can’t you see what you have done? In pursuing your own selfish desires, you have destroyed my family!’
‘Surely, the pursuit of love is often selfish? I thought . . . I felt that you may reciprocate my feelings.’
‘You are wrong, but even if I did, I would never put my own feelings above the needs of those I love.’
‘Then you are the person I have believed you are,’ he whispered, almost to himself. ‘And of course, Flora,’ he said, sighing heavily, ‘you are right. So, what do you suggest we do?’
‘There is no “we”,’ she replied, weary now. ‘And there never can be. But, if you really wish to prove that you love me, and recover some modicum of integrity, you will go to Aurelia immediately and make your long overdue proposal of marriage to her. And moreover, you will convince her that you love her.’
‘That is what you wish me to do?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you cannot admit to any feeling for me?’
‘No.’
Archie raised his eyes to meet Flora’s, and saw nothing but anger in her gaze. ‘So be it,’ he said quietly. ‘If this is what you want, then I will do as you wish.’
‘It is what I want.’
‘Then I will take my leave and wish you good luck in the future.’
‘And I you.’
Flora watched him leave the parlour. ‘I love you too,’ she whispered desolately to the empty room, as she heard his carriage clatter away from the front door.
18
Thankfully, Mrs Keppel’s plans to launch her into the social whirl of London meant that Flora had little time to dwell on the fact that she had willingly sent Archie back into the arms of her sister.
The following night, Mrs Keppel’s campaign began in earnest. Flora, bedecked in a gown of cobalt-blue duchesse satin with borrowed sapphires placed around her neck, was introduced as the guest of honour at a formal dinner. Over drinks in the drawing room, a sea of faces gathered around her, admiring her poise and beauty and praising Mrs Keppel for bringing Flora to London.
‘I feel it’s only right that she should have her own debut. I am simply doing my best to provide it for her.’ Mrs Keppel smiled at her guests. Flora had been introduced to them in such a haze of names and titles that her head spun with the effort of trying to remember them all – ‘Please meet Lady This’ and ‘Lord Someone of That’ – so she was relieved to recognise Countess Torby from afternoon tea a few days ago. And, of course, the Alingtons from across the square, whose children were playmates of Sonia and Violet.
Dinner took place in a magnificent dining room on the same floor as the drawing room. Flora was happy to be seated on the left of George Keppel. He turned to her with a smile on his lips beneath his neatly curled moustache.
‘Miss MacNichol – Flora – what a pleasure to have you beside me for dinner tonight,’ he said, helping to alleviate her nerves by pouring ruby-red wine into her glass. ‘Though it must be a shock coming to live in a city after the beauty of your Lakeland home, I hope you have found much here to stimulate your passions for botany and art. The many galleries we have can teach you more than a book ever could. You must try to entice our girls into a similar passion.’
‘I will certainly do my best.’ Flora only half heard Mr George as Lady Alington across the table from her mentioned that it looked as though ‘the Vaughan girl has found herself a satisfactory beau. And as for that fly-by-night son of theirs, there have been rumours—’
‘Flora? Are you feeling quite well? You have turned rather pale.’ Mr George’s voice pulled her attention back.
‘My apologies, sir, I must be fatigued from the day.’
‘Of course you are, my dear. I hope that Violet has not been chewing your ear off with her latest idea for a poem.’
‘She has a strong personality,’ Flora said carefully. ‘It is to be admired.’
A snort of laughter came from her left. Lady Sarah Wilson’s prominent eyes were bright with mirth. ‘Dear Alice said you had a knack for diplomacy, Miss MacNichol.’
She felt out of her depth in these barbed London conversations. ‘I simply speak from what I have observed, Lady Sarah. How are you enjoying the foie gras?’