‘Ah, ladies, there you are! Apologies for abandoning you. But please do feel free to take a stroll after luncheon to the stream if you wish. It is not far and a delightful scene at present with numerous wildflowers in bloom.’
But there was no way on earth that I was going to leave Lucinda alone with him and his friend again.
‘That is quite all right. Lucinda mentioned she wanted to go to the library this afternoon, so Jane and I will accompany her.’And tell her all about you.‘There is no need to join us. I am sure you wish to spend time with Mr Smith-Withers without female company for once.’
I glanced surreptitiously at Jane, and she looked approving at my sharp-wittedness.
Mr Hart nodded. ‘As you wish. Luncheon will be served shortly.’ His gaze snagged on mine, and he smiled.
‘May I say how becoming you look today, Mrs Fitzroy! Have you done something different with your hair? Or perhaps you are wearing a new dress?’ His impertinent eyes raked me from top to toe, and I was again reminded of the encounter in his study—of my body pressed against his.
‘My hair is as it usually is, and my dress is not new. But I thank you for the compliment,’ I returned stiffly. But my heart rate increased from the way he continued to gaze approvingly at me, and my nerve endings tingled. Smirking at the colour creeping into my cheeks, he withdrew.
Jane giggled when he had gone. ‘I can see what you mean. His attempt at seduction is laughable. How false he is!’
‘Quite,’ I said weakly. ‘Very false indeed.’
I was not looking forward to having luncheon with Mr Hart in attendance, but my stomach had other ideas. Roast chicken, salad, and freshly baked bread were on the menu. So it was rumbling in anticipation. Mr Smith-Withers and Mr Hart were already seated in the dining room, with Lucinda in the middle, when Jane and I came in. We took our usual seats opposite them.
‘Hello, Lucy. Did you have a nice walk to the ...’ I began as I sat down. But as I did so, there was a slight rustling sound, and I realised something was on my chair. Reachingbeneath my dress, I drew out a vibrant posy of pink and purple wildflowers tied with a white ribbon.
‘Gracious, this is lovely. Thank you, Lucy,’ I said, twirling the posy so I could view it from all angles. ‘But you should have handed them to me as I was about to squash them flat!’ I laughed and placed the flowers beside my plate and shook out my napkin.
Lucinda looked at the posy, then at me. ‘I did not give you the flowers, Aunty Fliss,’ she said.
‘They are from me, Mrs Fitzroy,’ said Mr Hart after a pause. ‘You did not accompany us to the stream, so I picked them for you.’
‘Oh, er, thank you.’ I assumed he had also created a posy for Jane, but when I glanced at her place setting, she did not have one. How awkward!
The food came out then, with both Maurice and Mrs Webber serving, and I concentrated on filling my plate. But I could see Lucinda was staring at the flowers with a tight expression, and my face grew hot with embarrassment. She had obviously not received a posy from Mr Hart either and was upset about it. I almost thrust it at her and said, ‘Please have it! I do not want it!’ But the posy was not the problem. It was the fact that he had picked the flowers especially for me and had slighted Lucinda deliberatelyin front of everyone. Oh, I knew what he was doing—he was playing the martyr and showing that he was following my order to leave Lucinda alone. Yet did he have to do it in such a hurtful fashion? I supposed I should not have expected kindness from him!
Indeed, Mr Hart was sucking on chicken bones, stripping them clean, and tossing them onto his plate without a care—no doubt enjoying the emotional havoc he was wreaking at the table. Mr Smith-Withers was just as bad—he rubbed salt in her wound by making a pointed comment on how lucky I was as he hadneverseen Dory give flowers to anyone.
Lucinda picked at her meal with a disgruntled expression and hardly ate anything. I watched her with concern. This was not good. However, I consoled myself with the fact that we were about to tell her everything in the library, which would explain his behaviour. The information about his true character would cause her even more pain, but at least her anger would not be directed at me!
But the flowers had done more damage than I had perceived. When I asked her at the bottom of the stairs about going to the library, she said she would rather read in her room and ran up before I could say anything. Soon, a door closed along the corridor with a muffled, but resounding bang. I could have cried with frustration.
Jane grasped my arm and said softly, ‘Perhaps leave her to calm down and let us speak in my room.’
There was nothing else for it. Having Jane on my side was such a relief at least. I was glad I had met her on the stairs when I did and told her what was happening. If she had gone off with the others, Mr Hart may have said something to cause her to be hostile with me as well.
I tossed the offending posy on the bed and flopped down next to it with an exclamation of annoyance. Jane took some folded petticoats out of the dresser drawer.
‘Do not let him get under your skin, Flissy,’ she said. ‘He is playing games to get a reaction.’
‘Well, it is working,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘Oh, I could strangle him for giving me these damned flowers! Did you see Lucy’s face? She was crushed.’
‘Yes, she is very sensitive when it comes to him. We will need to tread carefully,’ said Jane sagely, packing the petticoats neatly into her carpet bag. ‘But we shouldn’t leave it too late either.’
‘No, we should not,’ I said soberly. ‘As he could stir her into a jealous rage, and she might try to attack me!’
Unable to bear looking at the flowers a moment longer, I got up, cracked the mullioned window open, and threw the posy out. I felt no guilt about it. No matterhow pretty they were, they were not worth holding on to if they caused a rift between Lucinda and myself. Watching the flash of pink and purple tumble into the bushes below, I instantly felt better, as if I was proving to myself that I would not be swayed by him.
I slammed the window shut with a victorious ‘Take that!’
‘Well done!’ Jane crowed. ‘We will fortify our battlements, and he shall not breach our defences!’
I spent the rest of the afternoon in Jane’s room, writing my letter to Max and the note to Maurice, while she worked on her novel. By the way she was writing furiously, I gathered that at least our circumstances were proving favourable for her creative energy!
