Chapter 4
“Do not be absurd,” Florence muttered, tossing James a frown and another at her grandfather when he chuckled at the man’s remark.
She would never admit being attracted to this ridiculously handsome army captain even though she was strongly attracted and this scared her.
Why was he persisting in this nonsense?
How could it end other than badly when they inevitably parted ways?
Flutters, indeed.
So what if her heart beat like a butterfly’s wings whenever he was near?
He cast her a steamy glance. “Why won’t you believe I am sincere?”
“Stop it. Just stop it, James. You will be gone after the Somerville ball and I will never see you again.”
“Not true. Admittedly, I may have to go to London to discuss my attack with the Foreign Office, and I may have Wellbourne affairs to handle...”
“On behalf of the duke,” she said with a nod.
“But I will come back for you. I give you my word of honor. If I do not return, it will mean I am dead.”
She gasped. “Do not even suggest such a thing. I would never wish to see you hurt.”
“That is very good of you, Florence.”
His gaze was still steamy and he was now grinning at her affectionately.
She looked away. “Do you have any idea who would want to interfere with your assignment? I mean, there ought to be some obvious suspects.”
“Oh, I’m sure there are.”
“Who?”
“That is confidential information. Nor will I make any accusations until I am certain I have the right man. Of course, I could make a list of those most likely to want me dead, but that could run the length of an entire book. I have been offending people since I was a toddler in nappies.”
He was making a jest of it now and she found it irritating.
If he wanted to play, then let him play. She was not going to stop him when he raced headlong into danger.
“You are frowning at me, Florence. All right, I’ll be serious.” He arched an eyebrow. “I will be on my guard, and you are to keep away from me once we arrive at the Somerville ball. Understood?”
She nodded. “And you will be in your disguise as our footman?”
“That is correct.”
“Why did Lord Meade plan to meet you there? Why not just have you ride to London? Is it not odd?”
“I do not know why he was so secretive about it,” he admitted. “And yes, I do find it troubling.”
“Then you suspect him, too?”
“Florence, everyone is a suspect for now. But there are innocent reasons for this meeting to be set outside of London. Lord Meade may be worried about a traitor of high rank within the Foreign Office and wants to alert me beforehand.”
“Hence the reason for your disguise. I understand now. Since my grandfather seems to have no objection to our turning you into one of our servants, let me scavenge some of Henry’s old uniforms.”
“She’s referring to Ethan’s father who was a big hulking Viking of a man,” her grandfather explained. “Built like a warrior, much like you. I am certain his clothes will fit you.”
“Warrior indeed,” Florence sniffed. “Hopefully, the moths will not have eaten through the old fabric and left too many holes to mend.”
She hurried out of the room and left the men to themselves, cringing as they both began to laugh.
Her grandfather, usually quite sensible and wary, seemed awfully quick to accept James and trust him.
Who was James exactly?
Obviously, a man of some importance and wealth.
Perhaps the duke himself?
She dismissed the possibility since a handsome duke would have his pick of the loveliest, wealthiest, and best-connected young ladies were he ever to enter the marriage mart, so why would he bother with her?
If he were the duke, then his fawning attention had to be a pretense, a game to amuse himself while he recovered.
Yet, he did not come across as the sort of man who would behave so trivially.
Nor would her grandfather ever allow anyone to treat her badly.
He was usually such a wise, old bird. As wise as an owl, she had always thought. He even looked like an owl when he donned his spectacles. Perhaps this manor house should have been called Owl Hall instead of Swann Hall, and their family name should have been Owl instead of Swann.
She coughed as she entered the storage room where their old belongings were stowed. “So, you want to be a footman, do you?”
Layers of dust had collected atop the trunks strewn about the musty place, for no one had been in here for months. There were dozens of trunks, and finding the one in which Henry’s old uniforms had been packed would not be easy.
The first one she opened contained her mother’s clothing.
“Mama,” she whispered, running her hand lovingly over several of her elegant gowns.
An ache tore through her, so she slammed the lid shut.
However, the ache would not go away and she soon felt the urge to cry. “It’s the dust,” she told herself, wiping away a stray tear or two, and then more tears, with the sleeve of her gown.
When that became soaked, she took out her handkerchief and held it at the ready while moving on to the second trunk. Another mistake, she quickly realized, now staring at mementos belonging to her father.
She slammed the lid shut on those memories, too.
And then cried some more.
The third trunk she tried contained her own clothes from when she was a child. Atop those infant outfits was a tiny gold bracelet with a heart at the center that was marked with the letter ‘F’ for Florence.
She gave up and went running back to her grandfather who was seated beside James, the two men conversing quietly.
“Florence? What happened, dearest?” her grandfather asked, turning toward her and rising when he noticed her distress.
He opened his arms to her and she flung herself in them.
“I couldn’t find the clothes,” she said, and burst into tears again.
“Oh, my sweetheart.” Her grandfather sighed.
“I think it is not so much what you did not find as what you encountered while searching for them. I should have realized what else was stored in there. All right, child. Take my seat while I go speak to Mrs. Lynch. She’ll send someone to search for the footman’s clothing later. ”
She nodded against the lapel of his jacket, soaking it because she had turned into a watering pot and could not seem to stop.
“I’ll also ask Mrs. Lynch to bring us up some tea and cakes. How does that sound?”
She nodded again. “Fine, Grandfather.”
“Sit down, Florence. You stayed up all night while we tended to our patient and this has left you exhausted. All your defenses are down, dearest. Get off your feet and close your eyes for a moment. I’ll be right back.”
She said nothing as she watched him leave.
Nor did James speak, either.
He kept his gaze on her all the while.
She felt the power of his presence, especially now that they were alone. “Forgive me. I never fall apart like this.”
In truth, she had not cried this hard since losing her parents all those years ago. James would not know about her loss or her upbringing, of course.
What did he think of her now?
“There is nothing to forgive, Florence,” he said, his voice exquisitely gentle. “You are a sentimental thing, aren’t you?”
“Yes, far too sentimental. I’m sure it is a trait you will find most irritating about me.” She did not wish him to think of her as his angel any longer.
He sighed. “I find it endearing. Do you think any man wants a cold and unfeeling wife?”
“Oh.” This was not the response she had hoped for.
She sank into the chair her grandfather had just vacated and let out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry for that completely...utterly ridiculous display, James.”
“As I said, nothing to apologize for.” He studied her a moment longer. “What happened to make you cry, love?”
She ought to have chided him for using the endearment. It was entirely too forward and he needed to be scolded for his impertinence.
But it sounded wonderful, and she did not have the heart to be angry with him.
Besides, her grandfather would return shortly, and James would not dare be so familiar with her in his presence.
“Nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing, Florence.”
She cast him a stubborn look. “I’m fine. Truly, I’m perfect.”
“Oh, yes. You are perfect, but you are also heartbroken. Not to mention, you are a terrible liar.” There was warmth in his voice, and she sensed the concern in his tone. “Must I get out of this sickbed and coax the truth from you?”
She laughed despite her sorrow. “No, the naked sight of you is more than I can handle just now.”
“I would have wrapped a sheet around me, I’m not that big of an arse. Tell me what upset you so badly.”
Unable to resist his gentle manner, she relented. “Oh, where to start.” She released a ragged breath. “And do not blame me if I bore you. You asked for this.”
“I will not be bored,” he assured. “I have nowhere to go and plenty of time on my hands.”
Odd, but she somehow knew he would be a good listener.
She stared at her hands as she spoke because she was not quite ready to meet his gaze. “My parents died when I was six years old.”
“I’m sorry, love. It must have broken your little heart.”
She shrugged. “It was so long ago, over sixteen years now. When I went to look for those old footman uniforms, I happened upon the trunks where my family’s belongings were stored.”
“And the memory of their loss rushed back and overwhelmed you? I’m so sorry, Florence.”
She glanced at him and nodded. “It suddenly felt as though I had lost them only yesterday. Look, this is the bracelet I wore when I was but an infant.”
He took it from her hands and studied it lovingly.
His smile as he handed it back to her was devastatingly gentle.
“Time is supposed to heal these raw wounds.” She took the bracelet and tucked it into a pocket of her serviceable gown.
It wasn’t even a pretty gown, yet James was looking at her with that hint of heat in his gaze that made her feel beautiful.
“But I was caught by surprise. James, losing someone you love is such an awful feeling.”
“I know, but it is also a part of life. We do not live forever.”