Chapter 4 #2
“I wish I had been given a little longer with them. They were the sun and the moon to me. Losing them left such a hole in my heart.”
He took her hand but said nothing more.
After all, what could he say?
He did not know her and had never known her parents.
Not even she had truly known them since her view of them had only been through six-year-old eyes.
The only reason she remembered their faces was because of the family portrait painted of them shortly before they died and now hanging prominently over the mantel in the parlor.
The artist had depicted them with serious expressions, but she remembered them as always smiling and with a glint of love in their eyes.
This is how they remained fresh in her memory. Young. In love. Happy.
Her grandfather returned, followed by their housekeeper, Mrs. Lynch, who wheeled in a cart containing a soup tureen, bowls, a pot of tea, and an assortment of fresh breads and cakes. Florence rose to assist Mrs. Lynch in setting out the bowls.
“Captain Ryder,” her grandfather said, “I hope you do not mind this lighter fare. It is not wise to give you anything heavier than this onion soup just yet. We shall improve the menu and offer you something more substantial tomorrow.”
“Is this all you are having, too?” James asked, noting Florence had set out three bowls on a small, side table.
Her grandfather nodded. “I am a frail, old man with little appetite, and Florence,” he said, giving her cheek a gentle caress, “does not have the heart for anything more tonight.”
She nodded. “It has been an eventful few days.”
James frowned. “I’ve disrupted your household.”
“Not at all,” she assured him, returning to his side to assist with his bowl since she wasn’t certain he could hold it steady yet. “Your arrival, albeit under unusual circumstances, is a welcome change. We were growing too complacent in our dull routine until you came along.”
“And shook things up?”
Her grandfather laughed. “Being jolted out of complacency is not a bad thing. I may be an old man now, but I was quite a hell-raiser in my youth. Ah, those were the days. Battles. Adventure.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Romantic entanglements. Of course, I reformed my ways once I met and married my wife. My point is, I’ve lived my life to the fullest and now enjoy this quieter existence.
But this is not right for Florence. She is young and vibrant, and it is selfish of me to keep her shut away with an old man like me. ”
“Grandfather, that is not so.”
“No, child. It is the truth. You are good and devoted, but I have taken too much advantage.”
“How? I’ve had my London seasons, several of them.” She turned to James and ladled some broth into his mouth. “I had my come-out at the age of nineteen and endured another two seasons after that. Believe me when I say that I do not miss that horse market at all.”
She ladled another spoonful into his mouth, surprised he was allowing her to coddle him in this manner.
He struck her as a man who liked to do things for himself. “My grandfather has not deprived me in the least. I was the one who asked to come home after a couple of months of endless and quite meaningless balls, routs, and musicales.”
James frowned. “Because you were hounded by unwanted suitors?”
“I did have several,” she admitted, “but they were mostly spoiled wastrels and only interested in whatever they could get for themselves. How could I fall for any of them when it was obvious they did not care for me?”
“Florence, I think you are being hard on those gentlemen. I’m sure many of them sincerely liked you.”
“And I assure you, they did not. The marriage mart is little more than a horse auction where that year’s crop of hopeful young ladies is trotted out before a host of eligible bachelors.
They ogle us, check our teeth and backsides, and ask about our bloodlines as we stand there dressed in expensive silks and our hair done up stylishly in the hope of attracting these clots. ”
“Ouch,” James said with a chuckle. “You do not hold back, do you, Florence?”
“Sorry,” she said with a grimace, all the while certain to be gentle while ladling another spoonful of the onion soup into his mouth.
He swallowed and cast her a grin. “No apology required. I expect to feel no different once I am back in London. That horse auction goes both ways. The ladies and their families are also inspecting the men. My family is quite prominent and that alone is going to attract a lot of interest. And by ‘interest’ I mean they are going to descend on me like a plague of locusts.”
Her grandfather laughed. “Gad, the two of you are a pair. The marriage mart is a venerable institution. Many good matches have been made there.”
James did not appear persuaded. “The only reason I may go to London after the Somerville ball is to find out who within the halls of power wanted to stop me in my mission.”
“About that,” Florence said, spooning more soup into his mouth. “How can you be sure Lord Meade is not the one?”
“Florence, do not interfere in matters you know nothing about.”
“Or what if the attack had nothing to do with your government business? What if it was a jealous husband. A woman scorned. A partner in a failed business venture? A political rival?”
He shook his head. “I’ve spent my life in the army and most of those years outside of England.
There are no bad business ventures, and certainly no political rivals.
As for women or jealous husbands...” He paused and cleared his throat.
“That is an inappropriate topic of conversation to be had with you. However, there cannot be any women who feel scorned or would wish me ill. I have never seriously involved myself with any ladies, and certainly never courted any unmarried ones, nor to lead anyone to think I wished for something more permanent.”
“So, you sought out only married ladies? What did their husbands think about your actions?”
“The women I chose to...er, entertain had bad marriages and husbands who did not care what they did or with whom they did it. Most did not even care if we were discreet or not. However, there will be no more of those sorts of engagements for me.”
“Has your near-death experience made you see the error of your ways?” she asked.
“Not at all. I am changing my ways because I have found something more important and valuable, and that is you.”
She set the spoon in the bowl with a clatter and frowned at him. “You must not speak to me that way. I do not need your flattery, so pray stop. We both know you will forget me once you reach London.”
“I am aware of no such thing. Do you think I care a whit for this year’s elegant crop of diamonds? Why are you pushing me away?” He frowned back at her. “I do not flatter. I speak what’s on my mind and tell the truth.”
“And I am supposed to believe you?”
“Yes, even though you think of me as a dead fish.”
She smiled even though she did not mean to. “I only described you as that because you were unconscious for so long. It had me very worried. But you are not dead at all, thank goodness.”
“And this frightens you?” He arched an eyebrow when she attempted to protest.
“I am not afraid of you.”
“Good, because you will face some hard choices if you decide to marry me.”
She set his bowl aside with a thunk and rose from his side with her hands curled into fists. “Why are you persisting in this fable? I forbid you to mention that word to me.”
“What? Choices?”
“No, marry. That is not a word to be spoken to anyone upon a day’s acquaintance.”
“You are absolutely right, but you are not just anyone. Do not ask me to make sense of my feelings. Perhaps having a brush with death gives a man clarity.”
She snorted. “I doubt it. You are obviously not thinking clearly.”
He cast her a melting smile. “Stop being sensible, Florence. Sometimes a thing is so obvious, it defies reason or logic. I know you are feeling it, too.”
She tipped her chin in the air. “What if I am not?”
“Then I’ll wait for you to catch up to me. Is that a workable plan for you?”