Chapter Three

“And are you going to introduce us to your friend?” Both unable and unwilling to hide the ice from her voice, Florentina looked first at Lord Crawley and then at the gentleman who sat next to him in the lavish, dimly lit drawing room of Haddington Manor. She was well aware that this was the Duke of Dartmoor, yet, given that he had not extended the courtesy of introducing himself earlier that day, she had no desire to offer him any sort of respect. That, she considered, had to be earned and he had given her no reason to give it.

“To my friend?” Lord Crawley glanced to the Duke and then back to Florentina. “Ah, yes, of course.”

She had time to consider him now as Lord Crawley introduced the Duke of Dartmoor to them all. The fellow was broad shouldered, with dark hair falling across one side of his forehead and a heavy gaze that shifted about the room, unwilling, it seemed, to rest on any of them for more than a single moment. He had a rather long face with a square jaw and yet there was something distinguished about him. Disliking that awareness, she bristled when their gazes caught for a moment, feeling the same coil of anger in her stomach still lingering from their previous conversation.

Mayhap Lord Crawley will be able to convince his friend to reconsider the situation. Mayhap he has a milder, kinder character than the Duke of Dartmoor. She closed her eyes for a moment, tears behind them. Or mayhap we are all ruined.

Having made the introduction, Lord Crawley snapped his mouth shut and then lifted his shoulders in a half shrug, glancing toward the Duke. The Duke of Dartmoor, however, remained silent, his gaze still wandering, his shoulders slightly hunched as he swallowed.

Florentina too, said nothing. Keeping her lips tight together, she gazed back steadily at the Duke, wondering if he would have anything to say. When he did not, her gaze went to her mother. Lady Haddington was sitting quietly in her chair, looking more dignified than Florentina had ever seen her. She sat with her shoulders back and her head held high, her hands settled gently in her lap but with a fixed, unrelenting gaze that did not leave the Duke for even a moment. Her face was white, her cheeks almost bloodless, but she did not let a single tear fall to her cheek despite the moisture Florentina could see in her eyes.

“I had very little idea that any of you were present here.” Eventually, the Duke’s deep voice broke this silence as he took a seat opposite Lady Haddington, his friend following suit. “I can assure you of that, at the very least.”

“That will make very little difference to you , however.” At last, Lady Haddington spoke although her posture and expression remained absolute, save for one eyebrow that lifted just a little. “You fully intend to take ownership of this house, do you not? Despite the fact that my daughters and I still reside here?”

To Florentina’s grim satisfaction, the Duke appeared a little flustered. Shifting in his chair, he opened his mouth to find some sort of response, only to shrug, shake his head and the lean back in his chair a little.

“We are well aware that it is upon our brother that the guilt lies,” Christina added softly. “I have no doubt that he was in his cups when he made such a bet, however, and I confess myself a little surprised that a gentleman of your standing would accept a bet of such significance and weight from a gentleman so foxed.”

This time, Florentina allowed herself a small, dark smile. Her sister spoke calmly, with an almost gentle tone, and yet she was stating quite clearly that she believed the Duke of Dartmoor had behaved in a most ungentlemanly manner.

“I can assure you that I did ask him, on a number of occasions, whether or not he truly wished to make that bet,” the Duke snapped, his temper clearly beginning to rise as he sat forward again, a redness rising up his neck. “I could not simply refuse. I could not simply end the game there and then! We had gambled a great deal and—”

“And whilst you may have asked my brother whether or not he was truly willing to make the bet, might I also suggest that your greed had a little to do with it also?” Florentina tilted her head, speaking just as calmly as her sister, though her words were sharp, she knew. Criticism evidently did not sit well with the Duke, for he immediately flushed red and his eyes narrowed into thin, dark slits as he turned his face to her. Florentina did not even flinch, however, copying her mother as she lifted one eyebrow and looked towards him without saying another word.

“You have no good reason to hurl such accusations at me.”

“Do I not? Tilting her head carefully, she breathed out slowly for a moment, allowing her remark to settle upon the Duke. He opened his mouth again, but then closed it, looking away as the realization of what she meant hit him. “Yes, Your Grace, I did hear you when you entered this house earlier,” she stated quietly. “You were expressing just how magnificent this manor house was and how glad you were to now possess it. You were reveling in your supposedly good fortune, glad that it would be yours. So yes, I believe I do have every reason to say such a thing.”

The Duke folded his arms across his chest and glared at her but the dark look had no influence upon Florentina and she did not look away.

He is selfish indeed. From his own lips, he informed me of his own estate and manor house, and now he comes to seek this place for himself also?

Again came that dull silence, where nobody seemed to know what to say. Florentina continued to hold the Duke’s gaze, making it quite clear that she was not afraid of him or of his apparent demands upon both them and this house. Inwardly, however, she was dreadfully afraid that they would be forced from the only house they had ever known, cast aside and forced to somehow, find another way in the world. Silently, she railed at her brother for behaving so unwisely, more than a little upset that he had ever thought to do such a thing as this. What foolishness had made him act so? She could understand that he was grieving and perhaps struggling with his new role within their family, but that was not an excuse for his present behavior. The fact that he had not even returned to the Haddington estate to tell them of it but had, instead, sent a letter, made things all the worse. She could only imagine the despair in her mother’s heart at present.

Finally, the Duke of Dartmoor cleared his throat. “I have no desire whatsoever to cause you great distress, but yes, I shall take ownership of this house as I have planned.” The redness in his face had not diminished and the way his lips pressed together as he spoke told her of his determination. “I am sorry for the struggle that will follow after you, but it cannot be helped. I am not a cruel gentleman although I understand that you may very well think otherwise.”

Florentina allowed herself a small snort, which the Duke clearly did not appreciate given the way his eyes snapped towards her, but again she did not care. His lack of mercy and his obvious selfishness was injuring them most grievously and his willingness to continue to do so made him appear very small in her eyes.

“I shall not take residence here immediately,” he declared as though he was offering them a great courtesy. “I will, of course, allow you all a little time before I take it as my own.”

This was followed by yet another silence where all of the sisters looked at each other, wondering just how long it would be before the Duke decided to move his servants and some of his possessions into the house. Quite what he would do with it when he had his own estate, Florentina could not imagine but he was making very plain indeed that he had no interest in permitting them to remain residents here.

She swallowed hard.

Silence continued to bloom, sweeping over all of them. Florentina waited expectantly for him to say something more, but the man simply looked over in the room, a small, almost benevolent smile on his face, which Florentina thought most ridiculous in light of what he had just demanded. Her mother, she saw, had gone very red in the face, rather than pale and sorrowful, as she had feared. Evidently, she was just as angered by the Duke as Florentina herself was.

“Why do you not simply tell us when it is that you wish to take residence in this house?” Miriam was the first to break the silence, throwing out her hands with clear frustration and speaking with a great sharpness which made Florentina’s eyebrows lift in surprise. Miriam was not often inclined to speak with such fierceness but evidently this situation had upset her just as much as it had everyone else.

The Duke cleared his throat. “I have no specific date as yet,” he returned to her, his jaw flexing. “I am aware that you will require time to find yourselves suitable matches, or at least the eldest two will. Thereafter, mayhap, the youngest and yourself also, Lady Haddington, might settle elsewhere. I understand there is a Dower house?” Again, he looked towards Lady Haddington, but she said nothing, her gaze sharp and her lips thin and Florentina’s anger began to burn all the hotter. Was this gentleman really attempting to encourage their mother to move to the dower house with her younger daughter? He had no knowledge of the dower house, nor of the fact that it was undergoing improvements and would certainly not be ready for some time—especially given their brother’s apparent lack of fortune—and yet he simply assumed that they could remove there! It was not only improper, but also exceedingly rude of him.

And most inconsiderate at that, given the shock that my mother is currently enduring and the grief she still bears.

“There is no need for you to decide where my mother and sisters shall go, Duke,” she began before anyone else could speak. “All that is required, as my sister Miriam has stated, is for you to inform us as to when you intend to take residence in this house, and we shall make the arrangements ourselves.”

The Duke blinked, then glanced at his friend, who merely shrugged and looked away. Lord Crawley, Florentina considered, was a very quiet sort of gentleman, who neither agreed nor disagreed with anything his friend had said. That irritated her somewhat, she would have much preferred him to make plain his thoughts on the entire situation and, should he disagree, to voice his concerns to his friend in as straightforward a manner as possible.

“As I have said, I have no particular date set in mind.” the Duke sniffed and lifted his shoulders. “This has come as something of a shock to me also. I was not expecting to see any of you in this house.”

“You have still not given us a date,” Florentina put in, ignoring any attempt to make her sympathetic to him. “We cannot make any arrangements to alter our situation until we know the precise time that you intend to move yourself into this house.”

At this, the Duke blinked, then tipped his head. “Shall we say a month or two? Maybe three, at the very most.”

Florentina’s throat constricted as a horrid fear wrapped its cold hands about her heart.

Sixty days? How can we make any sort of arrangements within that time?

Her eyes flew to her mother who was now staring at the Duke with wide eyes, her hand scrabbling to find the hand of her daughter, Christina. How could they possibly manage such a thing? And where would they go, if the dower house was not prepared and ready for them?

“The Season is due to begin, is it not?” the Duke continued, airily. “I am sure that you will all be able to find a suitable match during that time and, in doing so, will find that things do not appear as desperate as they are at present. That would be pleasing for us all, I am sure.”

Florentina dragged air into her tight lungs, unsure as to whether or not she felt relieved at this suggestion. It was all so very disconcerting to hear him speak in such a way, and the pressure that came with such a suggestion made Florentina’s heart tumble to the floor. Yes, her mother had discussed going to London for the Season, but that would never have been under duress. Now, however, it seemed as though she would be compelled to do so, forced to find a suitable match simply to ease the whole situation with the Duke.

“I think I have heard enough.” With great dignity. Lady Haddington rose to her feet. The gentleman struggled to follow suit, perhaps a little surprised at how abruptly the lady had stood. Florentina immediately hurried to her mother’s side, taking her arm.

“Perhaps we may defer this discussion for another time, Your Grace, for, truth be told, I have never encountered such preposterous nonsense from any gentleman—nor felt such a lamentable disregard for consideration. To suggest that all three of my daughters find a suitable match in one Season when the youngest one is not even out speaks of a lack of understanding and consideration. Nor is there any understanding of the mourning we have been enduring and though you speak of the shock we must feel, you have no empathy for that.” There was dignity in every word, but Florentina did not miss the way her mother’s lips trembled as she spoke.

“My lady, I—”

Lady Haddington held up one hand in the Duke’s direction. “As I have said, I have heard enough and do not wish to continue the conversation for the moment. This is still my house, given the grace that you have supposedly shown us and, in that, I have every right to command what happens within these four walls.”

“I—” The Duke began to speak, then bit back his words. “Of course. I shall have to remain until we come to some arrangement, however.”

Her mother ignored this. “Then excuse me, if you please.”

Silently thrilled with her mother’s tenacity, Florentina walked from the drawing room alongside her mother, with both of her sisters following thereafter. She was sure that her mother’s quiet dignity was what had both the Duke and Lord Crawley bowing as Lady Haddington passed, with the Duke mumbling something that Florentina paid no heed to. Her only concern was her mother.

It was not until they made their way into her mother’s private parlour that Lady Haddington finally released all of her emotions. She dropped her head and allowed a small sob to break from her lips as she sat down heavily in a chair, and Florentina’s heart twisted so painfully that she clutched at her chest.

“What has Henry done?” Lady Haddington’s voice was crippled with agony, broken with sobs. “How could he have done this to us after everything we have already endured? He promised he would care for us. How can he do this to you all? To his sisters?”

“I do not know, mama.” Helplessly, Florentina spread her hands as both Christina and Miriam echoed the same, with Miriam ringing the bell for the servants and Christina going to pour a small measure of brandy, clearly aware that her mother needed something fortifying. “We shall find a way through this difficulty, however, I promise you. Something must be done. Something has to change. Perhaps the Duke will be convinced to give up the house and his claim to it, once he has time to consider.”

Lady Haddington shook her head, squeezing Florentina’s hand as her sisters stood silently, Miriam crying silent tears and Christina wringing her hands.

“No, my dear girl, he will not.” Lady Haddington spoke quietly, but her gaze was steady as she looked into Florentina’s face. “I have met a man akin to the Duke and I can tell you that his demand to gain what is rightfully his will surpass any sort of emotion or pricking of conscience. Make no mistake, my dear. This house is no longer our own.”

***

The days passed at Haddington Manor, and the Duke and Lord Crawley remained at the estate, taking occasional walks about the grounds and engaging in private discussions. Lady Haddington spent most of her time in her chambers, as did the girls, avoiding interaction with the Duke and his companion, save for at mealtimes or in rare chance encounters in the hallways. There was still no sign of Henry, who, despite having been expected to arrive shortly after the Duke and his companion a few days prior, had still not made an appearance.

Florentina and her sisters were now in the library, where they had often secluded themselves in recent days, discussing their circumstances repeatedly and reassessing any new information they would acquire.

“I do not like the Duke.”

Florentina gave her youngest sister a small smile. “That is quite all right. I think you are permitted not to like him.”

Miriam let out a heavy sigh and shook her head. “I am much too young to be out, am I not? I cannot go to London and find myself a husband.”

“Given that you are not yet near sixteen, I do not think that you are under any obligation to find a suitable husband just yet, Miriam,” Florentina said softly. She caught the look of relief on Miriam’s face and allowed herself a gentle chuckle. That sound soon faded. “Though it is now both my responsibility and Christina’s to make a suitable match this Season, even though we had not truly thought of such a thing with any sort of seriousness.” Had it not been for their father’s untimely death, then Florentina might well have been already wed by this time, but it had been almost two years now since she had any thought of being in society. There had been a good deal of talk about it when her father had been alive, but no certain preparations had been made. And then had come her father’s passing and she was only now finishing her year of mourning. Besides that, the shock of his death had not given her any eagerness to make her way to society, although now it seemed that she would have very little choice. Pondering this as she picked up her embroidery, Florentina released a slow breath trying to remove the worrying twist from her stomach.

What the Duke had suggested was, unfortunately, the only route she and Christina could take, the only path that would lead her to any sort of security for her family. If she made a good match with a suitable gentleman who might be considerate and generous, then that could help her mother and youngest sister. Though, she considered, worrying her lip as she sewed, if the ton hears of what Henry has done and that his own manor house is no longer in his possession, the chances of a suitable match will be much slimmer.

“You do not like the Duke either, I think.”

Florentina glanced back towards Miriam, who had completely forgotten about the book in her lap and was now looking across the room directly towards her. With a wry smile, Florentina lifted her shoulders.

“He is a difficult man to like. I am trying to remind myself that my brother is the one who has caused us so many problems and whilst that is true, I cannot quite help feel anger towards the Duke also. I am all the more distressed to see that he will not give up the bet for our sake, given that he is already a gentleman with his own fortune, his own estate and the like. I do not understand why he finds this particular manor house such an improvement on his own, but he seems quite determined to take what is ours and make it his.”

“And Henry is still absent.” Miriam sighed and shook her head, blinking quickly as tears formed, sparkling in the light. “I do not know what our brother is doing, leaving us at such a situation. I cannot understand it. Yes, he may have been foolish, but I did not think he was a coward.”

This remark sent a pang of sorrow through Florentina’s already troubled heart. Her brother was gone from the house and had done nothing other than send a note to their mother. He himself had not shown his face, nor come to the house to apologise to their mother or to ease the transition in any way. Instead, he had simply removed himself from their lives and showed no intention of returning.

“I do not know where Henry is or what he is doing,” she admitted, softly. “You are quite right to say that such behavior is cowardly. I know that I should direct my anger solely towards him but instead I find myself blaming almost everything on the Duke! I think very poorly of him, I confess.”

“And what of his friend?”

At this Florentina immediately frowned, turning her head to see Christina coming into the room. Evidently, she had heard part of Florentina’s conversation with Miriam. “You mean the silent gentleman who says very little and simply observes everything without a word?” she asked, her hands tightening suddenly around her embroidery. “I do not know what to make of him, truth be told. He says very little but appears to go along with everything that the Duke suggests.”

“But that makes sense, does it not?” Christina replied softly. “After all, he is his friend; therefore, we could not expect him to act otherwise.”

“I suppose so.” Sighing, Florentina shook her head as Christina sat down beside Miriam. “I had hoped that another gentleman one a little removed from the situation might convince the Duke to reconsider, that he might bring a little wisdom into this dark predicament.” Closing her eyes, she pulled her mouth to one side in frustration. “However, it seems instead that Lord Crawley is the quiet, watchful sort who will offer neither wisdom nor defence, even in such a situation as this.”

“Mayhap he feels he cannot do so, for fear of incurring the Duke’s wrath,” came Miriam’s soft reply. “You have observed much about the gentleman, have you not?”

Florentina shared a small, soft smile with her sisters. “I am well used to watching quiet creatures,” she answered, directing her gaze towards Christina, who immediately laughed. “They intrigue me so, since I am quite the opposite from them!” Her sister Christina did not often share her thoughts or feelings and did not often enter deep conversations. “For my part, I have observed that the Duke appears to be a gentleman with a rather fiery temper and a keen determination that will not permit anyone or anything to stand in his way.” Tipping her head, she looked carefully at her sister. “And what have you noticed?”

Christina spread her hands, just as Miriam’s book toppled from her lap to the floor as she sat forward, listening to Christina. “They have been here a sennight now, have they not? We have been forced to share our dinner table with them and, on occasion, been required to spend a few hours in their company in the drawing room. I have been able to note some things about both gentlemen, and I must confess that I am not certain I would agree with your description of Lord Crawley.”

Florentina blinked. “Indeed?”

Christina nodded, then looked away, her lips pressed tight for a moment. Florentina wanted to say something more, catching the slight tremble about her sister’s mouth, but Christina spoke again before she could do so.

“If only Lord Crawley would say what he truly thinks to his friend, then perhaps the situation might not be as difficult as we find it at present,” she began, speaking quietly. “You may not have been aware of it, Florentina, but I have seen him frown. I have seen him look away when the Duke states certain things. I do not think that Lord Crawley is as readily accepting of this entire situation as we might believe him to be.”

“But what is it that can be done? If it is as you say, and Lord Crawley sees the matter differently but is unwilling to speak, then it is not as though we can compel him to act.”

Miriam nodded slowly, turning her head to look out of the drawing room window before returning her gaze to Christina. “Perhaps we need not do anything of significance but merely ask him. Or, at least one of us might ask him? Though I do not mean you, Florentina.”

Florentina struggled to contain her quiet laugh. “I fully understand. Christina? Is that something you feel able to do?”

Christina said nothing in reply, but instead simply turned her green eyes towards Florentina and looked at her steadily.

“You are strong enough to do such a thing, Christina, I am sure of it.”

Her sister shook her head. “I do not think I am strong at all. I speak too little and hide my considerations.”

“And yet that is what Lord Crawley does also. There might be an understanding there,” Florentina answered, encouraging her as best she could. “It is clear that you see more in Lord Crawley’s character than we have.”

Christina closed her eyes, then nodded. “Very well.” She rose to her feet, making Florentina’s eyebrows lift.

“Are you going to speak to him now?”

Lifting her shoulders, Christina nodded and then made her way to the door. “I do not see any reason to hold back or to delay. If I give myself too much time to consider it, then no doubt, I will convince myself not to speak with him! No, I shall go now to him directly. It may achieve very little, but as you have said, at least then we will know that we have pursued every option.”

Florentina and Miriam shared a smile. “We shall pray for your success!” Florentina exclaimed. “Do not be afraid of speaking openly but permit yourself to express all that you feel and think. You have a good deal more passion then than when you hold yourself back with reservation.”

“I shall do my best,” Christina promised. “Though I do think that one of you might try to speak directly with the Duke also.” Her gaze pinned itself to Florentina, a sharpness there which surprised Florentina a little. “I speak with gentleness but you speak with strength and that , I think, is what the Duke requires.”

Florentina swallowed tightly, her spirits suddenly sinking. “I am not certain that it would do any good.”

“But you would try, would you not?” Miriam asked, as Florentina closed her eyes tightly. “We must all make an effort.”

With a heavy breath, Florentina set her shoulders and then got to her feet. “Very well,” she answered, using the same words as Christina. “I shall speak to the Duke if you will speak to Lord Crawley. Let us hope, my dears, that fate will guide us to success.”