Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

T heir plan, such as it was, began with the frustratingly mundane—banking accounts.

Maisie insisted that before any other action might be taken, she and Flora spend several long, but ultimately fascinating days with Papa’s banker and man of business, Mr. Henry Dundas, who gave them a thorough education in the management and maintenance of their new private fortunes.

And although the wizened Mr. Dundas first protested the lack of a male chaperone and advisor during their session, he soon warmed to Maisie’s very sound idea to make them more financially literate—especially Flora, whom he saw as vulnerably unmarried.

“Per the law, Lord Archibald Carrington will serve as primary trustee of your funds, Miss Conway, but I should advise you to understand and participate in every particular.” Mr. Dundas proceeded to patiently show them each balance book of asset and expenditure, until Flora at last felt she had a grasp upon the importance of the responsibility—as well as the possibilities—before her.

“I should also advise you,” Dundas went on, “as I would my own daughters, to bring some trusted women—in particular, widows who have proved expert at the managing of their own estates—into your confidence as advisors as well. To guide you in the ways of being a woman of fortune.”

“Lady Ivers perhaps?” Flora suggested.

“Excellent woman,” was Mr. Dundas’s opinion. “Precisely whom I might have suggested.”

“And perhaps the Marchioness of Cairn?” Maisie added.

“She is not a widow,” Dundas considered. “And yet, she is well-known for her management of her charities, which, her esteemed husband—who is well known to us at the Bank of Scotland— tells me, she directs all on her own. A very good choice, indeed,” was his final assessment.

“I think we understand your intent, sir,” Maisie said when they finally put away all the balance books. “And we thank you for both your time and your advice.”

“You are most welcome. My only other counsel,” he said in conclusion, “would be to avoid rushing into anything at the present juncture. To wait for the fresh surprise and astonishment of coming into a fortune to wear off a bit before you purchase anything.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dundas.” Flora extended her hand for him to shake. “But I have already made up my mind. In fact, my mind was set some time ago. I mean to spend my money purchasing the estate of the Earl of Kinloch. And I won’t be swayed. But I shall keep all your advice and attention to the balance sheet in mind when I do so and drive a very hard bargain.” She gave the poor man the full measure of the swivel gun of her smile. “I understand the Bank of Scotland owns the notes. What can you offer me?”

Dundas was of such a character that he did not quaver. “My dear Miss Conway.” He rubbed his hands together in relish. “Let us call in the books.”

“Raines!” Flora called as soon as she made it back to the house. “I’m going to London!”

In order to fight for him, she had to find him first.

“Raines!” She began pulling her best traveling clothes from the armoire—what did one wear when one went in pursuit of the love of one’s life? Ought she to look the heiress? “Raines!”

“I heard you the first time, miss,” Cora Raines said with some asperity as she bustled into the room and immediately began picking up the clothes that Flora was pulling out. “And we are going to London, Miss Flora,” Raines countered. “I promised Lady Ivers I’d look after you and look after you I bloody well shall. Give me that.” The maid scooped a tweed redingote out of her hands. “You’ll crease it something horrible, wadding it up like that.”

“Time is of the essence,” Flora countered. “There’s no time for careful packing. We need?—”

“By the time you go downstairs to speak to cook about a hamper and go to the stables to speak to young Davie, I’ll have us packed and ready to get you changed into suitable traveling attire. I’ll not have you haring off, looking like some north country bumpkin who doesn’t know how to dress, I’ll tell you…”

Flora did not wait to hear the rest of Raines’ diatribe on offenses against fashion but followed her direction and made for the kitchens and stables. And when she returned, there were as promised, three small trunks in the corridor and a fresh traveling suit of winter tartan spread out on the bed.

“You’ll want short stays for travel,” Raines advised. “Won’t be as elegant, but far more comfortable. And truth is you’re elegant enough to knock the boots off any man, even when you’re not at your best.”

“I’m never seen at less than my best,” Flora swore. “I refuse to be.”

“That’s my lass,” Raines answered.

They were away within a half an hour, but the furious flurry of activity that hastened their departure soon lapsed into the tedium of the days-long journey. The post inns with their lumpy beds and hastily eaten hot stews blended from one into the other until at last, they braked to an exhausted stop in front of Lady Ivers’s London townhouse on Manchester Square.

But Flora’s foot had not even hit the pavement alighting from the coach when Lady Ivers herself came streaming out of the house.

“Thank God you’re here. You’ve not a moment to spare. He’ll be off from Portsmouth within the next day or two, I’ve no doubt. I did my best to delay him, insisting upon the delivery of one thing or another which he dared not wait for, but I ran out of excuses.”

“Excuses for what?”

“Excuses for him not to go to sea! Excuses for him to come back home to Edinburgh where he belongs, with you!” Lady Ivers said with considerable frustration, as if Flora didn’t want exactly the same thing.

“Well, all right then,” she agreed. “I will go to him, this instant. But I will need fresh horses, if you can spare them?” She confirmed this with a glance at the driver. “Yes? And if you would but tell me where I am to go to find him?—?”

“Portsmouth. The ship Resistance . Ask along the Navy dockyard and they should be able to direct you. Aim the carriage for the masts and spars of the harbor and you can’t go wrong.”

“All right.” Flora nodded more confidently that she felt. “I will be away as soon as the horses may be changed.”

“Yes, good,” Lady Ivers agreed. “We’ll see to that.” She gestured hurriedly to her major domo who immediately hustled off to parts interior.

“And if I may leave my maid, Raines, with you here, for she is done in by the travel and needs must rest. I shall go on?—”

“Not alone!” Lady Ivers was vehement. “Of course, you shall need to be alone with him at the salient moment. Of course. But between now and then—!” She cast about for only a moment before she made her decision. “I shall come with you—no!” She instantly changed her mind. “You shall come with me in my coach—well sprung, fresh horses, and a fresh but experienced man at the reins. Your boy must be even more exhausted than your maid. Come in while I make arrangements. Don’t argue?—”

“I will not.” Flora said as she made for the door. “I accede to your plan quite easily. I put myself in your capable hands.”

“Excellent.” Lady Ivers finally drew a breath. “I knew you would come in time to save him. I felt it in my bones. I just knew.”