The Shadow Sister (The Seven Sisters #3)

Now even her mother was talking to her in riddles, but Flora was too overwhelmed to try and unravel them. ‘Thank you, Mama.’


Her father followed suit and embraced her quickly, as always embarrassed by any overt show of affection. ‘Good show, Flora, my dear, good show.’

Next in line to congratulate her was Archie.

‘Congratulations, sister-in-law.’

‘Thank you,’ Flora said, her heart in her throat.

Without another glance, Archie walked away from her.



‘So, you return to me an engaged woman?’ Mrs Keppel embraced Flora as she walked into her parlour the next day.

‘I do.’

‘And are you happy? After all, Viscount Soames is the current catch of London.’

‘I am very happy.’

‘Set the tray down there,’ Mrs Keppel ordered Mabel, before turning to Flora. ‘Draw your chair closer to the fire and tell me all about Freddie’s proposal. Was it desperately romantic?’

‘I suppose it was, yes. He asked me as we were dancing.’

‘At your sister’s wedding! Oh Flora, I am so very happy for you.’

‘My parents send you all their love and thanks.’

‘It is a shame that we won’t see them over Christmas. As you know, we are going to Crichel. Have you decided whether you will join us there yet? I know your sister has invited you to stay at High Weald.’

‘I would very much like to come to Crichel, Mrs Keppel. I mentioned the idea to Freddie, and he tells me his own family estate is quite close by in the New Forest.’

‘It is indeed, yes. Perhaps Freddie and his father can join the men for the Boxing Day shoot and I can introduce you to his mother, the Countess. Well then, that is settled, and the Alingtons will be thrilled to have you as their guest.’

‘Thank you, I shall be delighted.’

Mrs Keppel regarded her. ‘For an engaged girl, you do not look as you should.’

‘How should I look?’

‘Happy. And yes, I admit to having been surprised when I heard about it. I was aware Viscount Soames was fond of you, but—’

‘I am happy,’ Flora interrupted. ‘Very. And I wish to thank you for all you have done to make this situation possible.’

‘My sweet girl, none of this would have happened without you being simply you. So, you will be meeting Freddie’s parents?’

‘I believe something is being arranged.’

‘Despite their impeccable pedigree, and a name that stretches far back into British history, they are . . . unusual. The Earl is very outspoken in the House of Lords. And I’m terribly fond of Daphne. She’s quite a character, as you will discover. With a rather racy past.’ She raised her teacup to Flora with a smile. ‘I presume you will be staying here until the wedding?’

‘Mama did not indicate otherwise.’

‘Then I must write to her seeing if we can hold the engagement party here for you. I am sure that all of our friends will wish to attend.’

Flora watched as Mrs Keppel’s face lit up at the thought, and wondered if, in her future role as a viscountess, she would ever take delight in the organisation of social events. Somehow, she doubted it.

‘Would you excuse me, Mrs Keppel? It was an extremely late night yesterday, and I am feeling quite tired out from all the excitement.’

‘Of course. Are your parents putting the announcement in The Times or shall I?’

‘It wasn’t discussed.’

‘Then I shall include the matter in my letter to your mother. We will see you at dinner. I am sure that George and our other guests will wish to congratulate you in person.’

Flora left the room, and walked wearily up the stairs to her bedroom. Engagement announcements, more parties . . . she simply wanted it all over and done with. She hadn’t even been presented at court, and to boot she didn’t have a dowry – her parents couldn’t afford it. How was she to be a viscountess?

‘Panther has been wondering where you are.’

Violet appeared like a ghost on the shadowy gas-lit landing, the cat tucked up in her arms.

‘Thank you for looking after him, Violet.’

‘That’s all right, he seems to like me. Mama says you’re engaged to Viscount Soames?’

‘Yes.’

‘I must admit, I am surprised.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t mean to be rude about the man you wish to marry, but every time I have met him here, he seems to have been drunk. And if you speak to him, he really is quite stupid. And you’re not.’

‘That’s very sweet of you to say, but I can assure you that it’s the right thing for me to do.’

‘Because you are frightened of becoming an old maid?’

‘No, because I want to marry Freddie.’

‘Well then, good luck, but you won’t catch me bending to society’s rules.’ Violet passed Panther to his mistress and stalked up to the night nursery floor.

‘No, Violet, I’m sure I won’t,’ Flora sighed as she watched the girl leave, then closed her bedroom door. She stood there for a while stroking her purring cat, feeling despair wash over her.

What was done was done. She had absolutely no right to follow her heart any longer.



Flora left London with the Keppels on Christmas Eve, arriving a few hours later at Crichel House in Dorset, a vast Georgian pile of pale beige stone, rendering Esthwaite cottage-sized by comparison. An enormous Christmas tree sat resplendent in the hall, the candles being lit by the maids as dusk fell.

‘Goodness, I shall need a map to find my bedroom later,’ Flora commented to Mrs Keppel as the assembled party of thirty people gathered for drinks in the gracious drawing room before dinner.

‘My dear, if you think this is a large house, wait until you see Selbourne Park!’

Christmas Day dawned and the entire party walked to the church, which conveniently – and rather oddly, thought Flora – stood in the garden. After that, an extravagant round of present-giving ensued. The women, Flora noticed, were all receiving beautifully crafted brooches or miniatures of animals, flowers and trees. Made, Mrs Keppel informed her, by Fabergé.

‘And this one is for you,’ Mrs Keppel said as she presented her with a gorgeously wrapped box. ‘It’s from your friend, Bertie,’ she whispered. ‘He wishes you a very merry Christmas. Open it.’

Flora did so, and found a small, sleek black onyx cat, with amber eyes that, as she looked closer, she saw were fashioned from tiny semi-precious stones.

‘It’s Panther!’ Flora cried, as she read his name engraved on the metal stand. ‘And I adore it!’

‘He had it made especially for you,’ Mrs Keppel added as Flora stroked the figurine.

On Boxing Day, Freddie and his parents arrived. Father and son went immediately to join the guns on the estate, while Mrs Keppel took Flora and the Countess into the morning room to get to know each other.

‘Come and sit by me, my dear. And please, call me Daphne, as I hope to call you Flora.’

‘Of course,’ Flora said, squeezing in next to the much larger woman on the small sofa.

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