He spun, nearly toppling into the street. “Florence!” he gasped as his sister marched forward. “What are you doing here?”
She came to a stop in a sweep of navy serge skirts and gave Marigold a once-over. “I could ask the same of you.”
Marigold’s eyes widened. “I should go, the d-driver—”
“You don’t need to go, Lady Croydon.” Florence’s smile was nothing short of delighted. “Please stay and chat.”
“That won’t be necessary, Flo,” Archie said, then leaned closer to Marigold. “Think about the match, yeah?”
She nodded, biting her lower lip. “I will,” she whispered, then looked at his sister, who could not have been more delighted at this discovery. “A p-pleasure to see you, Mrs. McAuley.”
Archie helped her into the hack and watched until it turned the corner, then turned to face Florence. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Come along, brother,” she said, linking her arm with his. “You’re going to tell me why I shouldn’t assume you’re having a clandestine affair with—”
“Hush!” he hissed, dragging her down the street towards the medieval structures marking the entrance to the Shambles. “Besides making my life a living hell, why are you here?”
She stopped outside Betsy’s Tea Shop. “Mum fell.”
The ground beneath Archie’s feet shifted, and he was momentarily grateful for his sister’s grip on his arm, although she would have been able to do nothing to prevent him from collapsing. “When? Is she hurt? How could this have happened?”
“She’s fine.” Florence patted his forearm in reassurance. “She slipped on the stairs yesterday morning. Some bruises on her knees and arms, but nothing serious.”
He needed to sit down, lie down, or run all the way to the farm without stopping to breathe. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She rolled her eyes and dragged him into the tea shop, settling into the closest available table with a quick wave to the proprietress. “I’m telling you now. That’s what this is.”
His palms were damp. “You should have telegrammed me immediately, I could have—”
“What, called for a doctor? Samantha did that. She handled the whole situation beautifully, for the record.”
“I could have been there with her.” A gaping emptiness opened up in his chest at the thought of his sisters and mother, alone in the house and afraid.
Florence waved his comment away. “You would have done nothing but hover and bump into things. But I wanted you to know.” She sucked air in through her teeth. “It’s time to consider selling the farm.”
Archie pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I know,” he managed, as he let his palms fall on the table. “I’ve been trying to come up with the money for months to buy her and the girls someplace decent.”
“We all have, but everything in Rotherham is wildly expensive.”
“I know that. Hell, why do you think I took this wild divorce case?” He ignored how she raised one sardonic brow. “The payout will be massive.”
“Is she paying you?”
He winced. “If I win, I might bring in more cases and more funds—”
“Ifyou win,” she interrupted. “If you bring in more cases and funds. None of this will help Mum any time soon.”
Fuck. And he’d been imagining running away with Marigold, starting a new life somewhere else, when he should have been focusing on the responsibilities he already had right here in Yorkshire.
“I’m sorry, Flo. I haven’t been paying enough attention to Mum, or to you and the other girls.”
Her brow furrowed. “First, I’m not a girl and haven’t been one for ages. Second, I’m not here to make you feel guilty. I only want to know your plan.”
“My plan?” He chuckled darkly and shook his head. “When have I ever had a plan?”
“Fine. What are you doing next?”
Hell, did he ever know? Had he bothered to look beyond what would happen at the hearing next week, aside from fantasizing about an impossible future with Marigold and her boys?Ridiculous.
