Chapter Seven

“Lord Allington has come to call.”

Florentina looked up in surprise as Christina came hurrying into the room. “I beg your pardon?”

“Lord Allington has come to call!” Christina repeated excitedly as she rushed towards Florentina. “Hurry, put away your embroidery!”

A frown darted across Florentina’s expression. “There should be no excitement in your voice, my dear sister. Have you forgotten that I am betrothed?”

Christina put both hands on her hips, her gaze sharp on Florentina. “Mayhap he has come to call upon me , Florentina! Did you not think of that?”

Flushing hot, Florentina quickly set her embroidery aside. “Of course. I had not thought of that, you are quite right.”

“I am well aware that he was very attentive to you when we were at the ball, but he must surely know that a lady such as yourself cannot show any interest in him.” Christina’s hands fell to her sides. “After all, you are already betrothed.”

“Yes, but he does not know that,” Florentina reminded her sister, quickly putting away the last few threads. “I am not to speak of my betrothal to anyone as yet, recall?”

Her sister’s eyes widened for a moment but there came no time to speak for, at that very moment, a knock came to the door and Florentina turned quickly, hoping that she appeared prepared even though she did not feel it.

“Yes?” Christina called, without so much as a glance towards Florentina to see if she was ready. “Do come in.”

The butler moved into the room swiftly, handing Florentina a calling card. “Lord Allington, my lady.”

“I thank you.” Taking the card from the butler, Florentina set it to one side and then turned her face expectantly to the door, a smile gracing her lips. Lord Allington came in directly, beaming at them both before bowing.

“Good afternoon! How very good to see you both again.”

Florentina smiled as did Christina, just as their mother swept into the room, clearly aware that she needed to be present in light of a gentleman arriving. Lord Allington, who had been introduced to her at the ball, made his polite greeting before being invited to sit.

Florentina exchanged a look with her mother, though Lady Haddington appeared to be quite delighted with Lord Allington’s arrival. Mayhap she also considered that he had come to call on Christina, which would certainly be a good thing if that were the case.

“I was glad to have danced with both your lovely daughters last evening,” Lord Allington said, just as Florentina rose to ring the bell for tea. “I hear you have another daughter still, Lady Haddington?”

“I do,” Lady Haddington answered, with a small smile. “Miriam, though she is not yet ready for her come out.”

“Did you enjoy the ball, Lord Allington?” Christina asked, only for a knock to come to the door again and, this time, the butler to announce the arrival of Lord Barlow.

At this, Florentina noticed, Christina’s cheeks turned red almost at once, her eyes brightening as she rose to her feet, ready to greet the gentleman.

“Lord Barlow, good afternoon!” Christina exclaimed, as Florentina bobbed a curtsy. “Look, Lord Allington has come to call also.”

“So I see.” Lord Barlow grinned, then inclined his head. “I shall not stay long, of course, but—”

“You are most welcome, Lord Barlow.” Interrupting him, Lady Haddington gestured for him to come and sit with them all. “We are very glad to—”

Much to Florentina’s surprise, there was another knock at the door. She glanced at her mother, who gave her a subtle nod, and then called for the butler to enter.

“Lord Crawley, my lady.”

Florentina’s heart clattered in her chest, her smile freezing to her face as Lord Crawley came into the room. He bowed, his expression somewhat dark as he glanced around the room, perhaps concerned that he would not be welcomed.

Florentina swallowed hard, noting how Christina’s expression had become fixed, perhaps just as astonished as Florentina was at seeing the gentleman arrive. Christina had, of course, been the one to try to speak with Lord Crawley as regards his friend and his ownership of Haddington House and they all knew that he was not exactly pleased with what the Duke had decided to do… but neither did he appear to have the strength to speak that forcefully to his friend.

“Lady Haddington.” Lord Crawley inclined his head, then lifted his gaze again. “Forgive me for my unexpected arrival. If…” His gaze went around the room and he shuffled his feet, looking down. “If you are already too busy with visitors, then I do not have to linger. I can come to call another time, if that would be preferred.”

Florentina sat down, leaving the decision to her mother. She personally did not have any real difficulty in Lord Crawley’s presence, though it was an unpleasant reminder to her that the Duke of Dartmoor was soon to become her husband. Lady Haddington did not take long at all to make her decision, however, for she smiled and then waved a hand in the direction of the vacant chairs in the room.

“Of course, Lord Crawley. Please, do sit down.”

With a clear look of relief drawing over his expression, Lord Crawley sat down next to Florentina. The conversation was again held back as tea trays were brought in and Christina rose to serve the tea. Florentina gladly permitted her to do so, even though, by rights, she ought to have been the one tasked with the duty. It was clear to her—and she was relieved of it also—that Christina ought to be the one garnering as much of the attention from these gentlemen as she could… though mayhap, she considered, not Lord Crawley, for he was much too closely acquainted with the Duke.

“Lady Florentina, I must speak with you.”

Florentina turned her head, a little surprised to see Lord Crawley looking at her, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “Lord Crawley?”

“I must speak with you,” he said again, “in private conversation, if possible.”

All the more taken aback, Florentina turned her head away, taking the teacup from Christina as she considered her response. Why would Lord Crawley wish to speak to her in such a way?

Unless… Her skin prickled as she glanced at him. Unless the Duke of Dartmoor has asked him to do such a thing. This might be a scheme devised by the Duke himself, attempting to catch me in a compromising situation with another gentleman. That way, he could end our betrothal and take possession of the house!

She cast a sidelong glance towards Lord Crawley, the tinging still on her skin and a warning in her mind. “I do not think that will be possible, Lord Crawley.”

“It is vitally important, Lady Florentina,” he replied, as the conversation began to flow around them. “I would not ask if it was not so.”

“Would you not?” She arched an eyebrow, casting him a somewhat cold glance. “I am afraid that I must take great care over my reputation, Lord Crawley and it is because of that awareness that I must refuse. I cannot meet nor speak with you in private. I am sure that a gentleman of your standing in society will understand entirely what I mean.”

Lord Crawley’s jaw tightened and Florentina, convinced that she had untied the plan before it had even begun, lifted her chin a notch, a feeling of triumph over her.

“I must,” Lord Crawley said again, only for Lord Allington to interrupt them.

“What say you, Lady Florentina? A picnic tomorrow?”

Florentina smiled, relieved that the conversation between herself and Lord Crawley had come to an end. “A picnic sounds like a marvelous idea.”

“It was my own thought,” Lord Allington continued, gesturing to Lord Barlow, “though Lord Barlow is just as eager as I. Shall we say tomorrow afternoon in St James’s Park? Next to the rose garden? I think that the beautiful scents and the excellent company will make for a superb afternoon.” His eyes set to hers, a sudden contemplation in his expression. “To be surrounded by such beauty will throw me into quite the spin, I am certain. I shall be giddy with happiness, I think!”

Seeing the way his face gentled and his gaze became a little more considered, Florentina felt a warmth flow through her. She tried to dampen it, tried to remind herself that she could—ought not—react to any gentleman here in London, but she could not help herself. A small smile lifted the edges of her mouth, her heart quickening only a little as heat rose in her cheeks.

“You are very kind, Lord Allington, Lord Barlow.” She looked at the other gentleman, whose gaze was directed solely to Christina. “I think we should be very glad to join you.”

“Capital!” Lord Barlow’s smile fixed as he then turned his gaze to Lord Crawley, clearly aware that he had only just announced a particular occasion but had not, as yet, invited Lord Crawley. Florentina’s stomach twisted, silently praying that the gentleman would not feel obliged to invite Lord Crawley simply because he was a part of the conversation but the longer the pause took, the more she feared he might. Trying to think of something to say, she smiled brightly.

“And are we all to go to Lord and Lady Finchester’s ball tomorrow evening?”

“Lord Crawley, forgive me for my hesitation.” Rather than respond to her question, Lord Barlow gestured to Lord Crawley. “We are not well acquainted but that does not mean that I ought not to invite you to join us, does it? Why, that is how better acquaintances are made!”

Florentina’s heart sank as Lord Crawley grinned, her hopes that he would neither be invited nor accept the invitation fading away.

“I should be delighted. Thank you.” As the conversation continued about the upcoming picnic, Lord Crawley turned to Florentina again, his eyes suddenly serious, no smile on his face any longer. “You must understand, Lady Florentina, that the conversation I wish to have with you is of the most urgent nature.”

Choosing not to answer—for she did not believe a word of what he said—Florentina picked up her teacup and took a sip, keeping her gaze away from him.

“It is about the Duke of Dartmoor, your betrothed,” Lord Crawley murmured, as Florentina shot another look at him. “You may not believe me, I understand that, but it is for your own benefit, I assure you.”

The urge to say something, to tell him that she did not accept those words from him, burned in Florentina’s chest but she still said nothing, pulling her gaze away from him and instead, turned her attention back to the others. At once, she noticed how Lord Allington was looking at her, a slight lift to his eyebrow as he then glanced to Lord Crawley, only to go back to her again. Flushing, Florentina offered him a smile and then, heedless as to what impression she might give by her actions, rose to her feet and made her way directly across the room. Sitting down in the vacant chair next to Lord Allington, she quickly began a most pleasant conversation with the gentleman, noting how Lord Crawley immediately frowned.

I am not as trusting as the Duke believes, she thought to herself, as Lord Allington smiled warmly at her, clearly delighting in her company. And I certainly will not entertain even the notion of standing alone with Lord Crawley so he might speak with me. What sort of a fool does the Duke think I am?