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Master Zane_The Rogue Aristocrat Page 2
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"You're looking well, Flora," Anne said as Flora approached, then lowering her voice she added, "and I can guess why you wish to speak with me. It's Prince Gerhard. I take it you're not interested."
"Heavens, no! You must tell me what to do."
"It's clear your father is determined. He's been romancing that Prince as if he's the one who wants to marry him."
"Anne, you do say the most wicked things!"
"So I've been told."
"What can I do? I will not marry that beastly man."
"There's only one thing I can suggest."
"Tell me, please, I beg you."
"You'll have to be nice, agree to see him again, then when you're alone be an absolute cow."
"Anne, that's brilliant, you're so clever."
"Be prepared for some serious consequences. Your father will wring your neck."
"Let him. It will be worth it. Can you imagine me being married to that scarecrow?"
Anne laughed out loud, then quickly composed herself.
"You're right, he does look like a scarecrow. All that crazy hair and his long arms. My goodness, I shall be giggling all through dinner thinking of him in a garden with his arms flapping about."
"But Anne, how can I arrange to be alone with him? I'm sure my father would forbid it."
"Your parents want this marriage very badly. If you tell them you need to spend just a few minutes in his company by yourself I'm sure they'll permit it."
"Do you think so?"
"I'm sure of it."
"Thank you, Anne. What would I do without you?"
"End up marrying a very rich German scarecrow."
Before Flora could respond the dinner gong sounded, and from the corner of her eye she could see Prince Gerhard moving towards her.
"Remember, be charming," Anne whispered, "then be an absolute witch as soon as you get the chance."
Grateful for Anne's crafty plan, when the prince extended his arm to escort her into dinner Flora happily accepted the invitation and pretended to be delighted to sit next to him. She smiled as they talked, and told him how she'd always wanted to visit his beautiful country. By the time the meal came to an end she knew the Prince was taken with her. The trap had been set. As her mother rose from the table, signaling it was time for the women to move into the drawing room for coffee, Flora glanced across at her father. He appeared to be studying her and he wasn't smiling.
"I don't know why father's so miffed," she murmured to Millicent as they walked from the room. "I did exactly what he and mother wanted."
"I agree, it is a bit strange. Maybe something else is on his mind and he just happened to be looking at you as he thought about it."
"That must be it," Flora agreed. "He has no reason to be upset with me, not after that painful performance."
Coffee and chocolates had been set out, and the women chatted amicably until it was time to head to the foyer to meet up with the men and collect their coats. As the small group ambled down the hall, Flora realized she'd left her evening purse behind. Hurrying off to fetch it she passed the men who had just left the library, but she noticed her father and the prince were not among them. Convinced they were probably talking about her, she continued on and loitered outside the library door.
Not only had she guessed correctly, what she overheard made her blood boil.
CHAPTER TWO
It was the following morning, heavy rain was splattering against the windows, and the housemaids at the large Mayfair residence had started the fires early. Walter Braithwaite and his wife Margaret were just starting breakfast when their son walked in rubbing his hands together.
"Blasted awful day," he declared as he moved to the buffet. "How's a chap supposed to get around in such weather?"
"It's winter, George, what do you expect?" his mother chided. "You should have realized it would be this way. I don't know why you came back from school for just a few days."
"I needed a few things, but I don't fancy shopping in this weather."
"You came back to see that Millicent Palmer girl," his father remarked between mouthfuls of scrambled eggs. "You couldn't take your eyes off each other last night."
"Was it that obvious?"
"It certainly was, but you have our blessing. You could do a lot worse than the Palmer family," his mother said with an approving nod of her head, "and it doesn't hurt that your sister likes her. God forbid you were to bring a woman into this family without Flora's approval."
"Flora can be a bit difficult at times," George agreed. "Speaking of Flora where is she? I thought she'd be down by now. She's usually the first one to show up for breakfast."
"It was an important evening. She was probably overly tired," Walter suggested. "I'm sure she'll be here soon. What's this shopping about? Are you in need of more clothes?"
Before George could answer Reeves approached the table and coughed, a signal that he needed his master's attention.
"Yes, Reeves, what is it?"
"May I have a private word, your lordship?"
"I'm in the middle of my breakfast."
"It is rather urgent, my lord."
"Very well," Walter said, an annoyed frown crossing his brow. "Let's step into the hall."
"Thank you, my lord."
George filled his plate and watched the two men exit the room, then carrying it to the table he sat down and gave his mother a concerned gaze.
"Must be blasted important," he muttered. "I don't know why everything has to be discussed behind closed doors before we're told about it. Father is going to walk back in and announce everything anyway, so why bother leaving in the first place?"
"Stop using such language, and Reeves was right. He must speak to your father privately, then Walter will decide what to do, if anything, about whatever it is."
"That was a confounding sentence."
"Eat your breakfast before your eggs get cold. There's nothing worse than cold eggs."
"I do love you, mother, and you can't fool me. You don't like the whole hush-hush thing either."
"Whether I like it or not has nothing to do with it. There are certain ways of doing things, George, and they must be followed."
George was about to respond when the door opened and Walter and Reeves reappeared. While George continued eating, his mother looked up expectantly, and the deep worry in her husband's eyes sent a shard of alarm through her heart. Something was wrong, very wrong.
"I have some disturbing news," Walter said grimly as he approached the table. "There's no easy way to say this. Margaret, my dear, please prepare yourself."
"Walter, you're scaring me. What is it? Tell me quickly."
"Yes, father, tell us," George added. "Why do look so serious?"
"I'm afraid it's Flora. She's gone."
"Gone?" Margaret repeated. "What do you mean gone? Gone where?"
"She left this note," he replied holding it out to her. "Lucy found it."
"Just read it to me please."
"Yes, father, read it to us."
"Very well. Dear Mother, Father and George. I will not be married to a German prince that I do not like, let alone love. I am leaving to stay with a friend. My life is my own and I shall marry whom I please. I'm sorry to disappoint you father, but you have given me no choice. George, since I probably won't be talking to you for a while, you should know that Millicent adores you. Mother, I love you very much. Please don't be too upset. Father, I know you were trying to do what's best, but my heart belongs to me and can only be given by me. I will be in touch after a little while. I am safe. You need not worry. Fondly, Flora."
"No, no, no," Margaret exclaimed, abruptly standing up. "I told you, Walter, I told you pushing that German on her was a bad idea. You know how she can be. She has always had her own mind. Dear, oh, dear, where could she be staying?"
"With that damnable Anne Barkley, that's where," Walter barked. "I saw them whispering last night. I don't know why you have that woman over here. She has a frightful reputation an
d she's a bad influence."
"I have her here because she's popular and she livens things up."
"She's certainly livened things up now," Walter sputtered. "George, you and I are going over there right this minute. Reeves, have the carriage brought around."
"I doubt she'll be there," George said skeptically, downing the last of his tea before rising to his feet. "It's too obvious."
"We can't sit around here and do nothing! Aren't you worried about your sister?"
"I'm concerned, of course, but it seems to me Flora had this planned. I'm sure she's perfectly fine."
"Planned? What do you mean?" Margaret asked.
"Flora is a very clever girl. With Prince Gerhard arriving, she probably had an escape ready in case you forced her hand."
"An escape? I'm not sure I understand," Margaret said clearly bewildered. "This isn't a prison for heaven's sake. It's her home. What are you talking about, George?"
"I know I haven't been around, but I got the distinct impression you've been telling her the prince is the perfect match."
"He is, for many reasons," Walter said firmly, "and Flora needed to understand that."
"As I suspected. This is what I think happened. Flora decided to give him a chance, but in the event she took an instant dislike to him, and you made it clear you were going to insist she marry him, she had a scheme in place. That scheme was to run off before you could push things any further."
"That's preposterous!" Walter humphed. "I don't believe it. If she'd been dead-set against it I wouldn't have forced her."
"But father, you can be very insistent. Did anything happen last night that would have given her the impression her fate was sealed?"
"Not that I can think of," Margaret said thoughtfully. "What about you, Walter? Did you say or do anything that would have made her think that?"
"I, uh, well, not directly."
"What does that mean?" his wife pressed, glowering at him.
"The prince and I were having a private conversation in the library, but it was private. Flora couldn't have heard it."
"Walter, what did you say?"
"I simply told the prince that I suspected Flora might put him to the test when he came here for tea today."
"What sort of test?" George asked. "Now I'm the one who doesn't understand."
"I saw her whispering to Anne Barkley and I sensed they were plotting, and blast it, I was right. Flora wasn't suddenly charming to the prince for no reason. I cottoned on right away. I wasn't born yesterday!"
"Cottoned on to what?" Margaret asked. "You're talking in riddles."
"It's the oldest trick in the book. Be extremely cordial, then wholly unappealing. I simply suggested to Gerhard that if he found himself alone with Flora, and she wasn't as charming as she had been at dinner, she'd simply be testing his mettle. I told him he should ignore it and not give up."
"If Flora heard that she would have been absolutely furious," George said shaking his head. "We must assume she did."
"Walter, how could you?"
"I didn't know she was eavesdropping!"
"Go and find her," Margaret said vehemently. "Go and find my precious girl and bring her back here this minute!"
"I will, I will," Walter promised emphatically. "George, you may not think she'll be at Anne Barkley's but it's a good place to start, and what about Millicent? They're best friends. She'll probably know something."
"Flora would anticipate that. If she doesn't want to be found Millicent would be the last person she'd confide in."
"Please will you stop all this talking and find her?" Margaret shrilled. "NOW. GO OUT NOW!"
"Yes, my dear, yes, yes, we're going," Walter said hastily. "Calm yourself. We're leaving right now. I'm sure the carriage is already at the front door, and try not to worry. George is right. Flora won't come to any harm."
"She'd better not, do you hear me? She'd better not."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Flora had experienced a harrowing morning. Making sure to rise before her family, carrying the barest of essentials in a small suitcase, she had managed to slip past the staff who were busy with their early morning duties, and it hadn't been easy. It was only a few blocks to Anne's home but it was raining, and it was frightening to be out on the street so soon after sun-up by herself. When she'd knocked on the door of Anne's home drenched and forlorn, the butler, Carstairs, had been unable to hide his surprise. He'd helped her off with her dripping coat, then escorted her into the drawing room where the fire was already flaming.
"I'll make sure her ladyship is informed immediately," he said kindly, "and I'll bring you in a pot of hot tea."
Warming herself by the fire, though she was shaken she had no regrets. She was a royal and she knew she had certain obligations, but the thought of spending her life with the German scarecrow was mortifying.
"My poor girl," Anne exclaimed as she entered the drawing room wearing a heavy robe. "Look at the state you're in. What are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry to be such a bother, Anne. I honestly didn't know what else to do. I overheard father talking to the prince last night and he is determined we should marry. I won't do it! I can't, and I won't go back there until father promises me I won't have to."
"Oh, dear, what a mess. I agree that your father is being unreasonable, but leaving your home?"
"What else could I do?"
"What you've done is extreme, but you'll certainly get his attention. I'm sure he'll rethink his position, and no doubt quickly."
"He's so determined it will take him a year!"
"Now, Flora, you must settle down," Anne said firmly. "Your mother will be beside herself when she discovers you've left. Believe me, your father will do whatever it takes to get you home, but this will be the first place they'll look. If you really want to disappear for the day you'll need to stay somewhere else."
"It's all so upsetting, and there's a part of me that wonders if I'm doing the right thing. Am I?"
"Only you can answer that, but I'm sure your mother will be angrier with your father for trying to push you into a future you don't want, than she will be with you for running away."
"She can be fearsome when she wants to be," Flora remarked, a small smile crossing her lips. "I wouldn't like to be in father's shoes when they find out."
"Did you leave a note?"
"Yes, of course, on my dressing table."
"Good. We must take this one step at a time. I need to dress, but don't worry, I'll think of something."
"I know you will, you always do," Flora said gratefully, impulsively hugging her. "Thank you so much. You are such a dear friend. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't been able to come here."
"It will work itself out, Flora. Try not to fret."
With a reassuring smile Anne moved quickly from the room, and as she disappeared out the door Flora allowed herself a long sigh. It was all very trying, but she knew she'd be safe with Anne, and in a few days her father would come around. He had to.
Pouring herself a fresh cup of tea, she added a small splash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar, and leisurely sipped. The fire was crackling, her bones were warming, and things were looking up. A heavy drumming of thunder rolled overhead, and rising to her feet she ambled across to the window. Staring out to the street through a crack in the curtain she could see the rain was pelting down, far heavier than it had been when she'd left her house. Grateful she hadn't been caught in the downpour, she was about to step away when she saw a carriage approach and pull to a stop. Though it was difficult to see clearly through the rain splattered window, the coat of arms on the side was unmistakable. It was her father!
Panic seized her.
She'd been in Anne's house many times. The back garden was surrounded by a high brick wall but there was a gate. That might work, then she realized she had no idea what was behind it. No, it was too risky. Should she try to find a place to hide? That wouldn't work either. Her father might bring in a constable to search t
he house and if they found her, Anne would be in terrible trouble. Flora realized she had only one recourse; hurry down the back stairs, through the kitchen, and out on to the street. She would run to the end of the block, turn the corner and keep watch, then return once her father had left.
The doorbell chimed.
It was now or never.
Rushing out the door on the opposite side of the room, she dashed through the hall away from the foyer, down the back stairs, and ignoring the shocked faces of the household staff she raced past the kitchen and bolted out the servant's entrance. To her dismay she was met by pounding rain, but she pushed on, and as she made her way up the concrete steps she looked back at the carriage. Luck was on her side. The driver was dealing with one of the horses and had his back to her.
Holding up her dress she sprinted down the street. Once she'd turned the corner she'd be out of sight, but in mere seconds she was soaked through to the skin and her heart was pounding so hard she was sure it would give out. The end of the block was just a few more yards, and clenching her teeth and ignoring the freezing cold, she continued through the downpour and darted around the corner.
The collision came out of nowhere!
She was suddenly tumbling and her face was hitting the hard, wet, footpath. Hands around her were helping her up, a man's worried voice was asking if she was all right, and as she lifted her head to stare at the stranger, she found herself gazing into the warmest brown eyes she'd ever seen—then everything went black.
CHAPTER THREE
While Flora was being helped by the stranger, absolute mayhem was breaking out at the residence of Lady Anne Barkley. She was still dressing, but convinced Flora was in the house Walter Braithwaite was in the foyer demanding to see his daughter. Carstairs' loyalty was to his mistress, and by extension her guests. He wasn't about to betray either, but the furious noble wasn't making it easy.
"Blast it, man, tell me where my daughter is this minute! I shall call in the constable if I must."