Chapter Ten

As soon as she recovered herself, Flora gave Lawrence’s face a resounding slap.

He gaped at her in surprise.

Serve him right, the reprobate! He clearly hadn’t expected to be slapped. Why would he? No one ever expected violence from the good-natured, downtrodden Miss Flora Hartington, did they? Well, perhaps that was about to change—she was tired of being taken advantage of.

“Forgive me,” he begged, gingerly touching his cheek. “I just couldn’t resist.”

“Then it’s time you learned to control yourself,” she snapped, but observed the spreading red mark with a rising feeling of guilt.

“I thoroughly deserved that slap. But please, don’t let us part as enemies. At least let me give you something by way of apology.” He reached into a box and withdrew a bottle, which he pressed into her hand.

She hesitated. The temptation to explain to him that not every sin could be expunged with free medicine was strong, but her emotions were in turmoil, and she feared to say—or do—something she’d later regret. Better to leave now, with her dignity intact.

After shooting him a quelling look she’d learned through years of seeing it from Lucinda, she turned her back on him and left.

As she walked down the road in the general direction of home, she inspected the bottle. The label read, Dr. L. E. Campaign’s Miraculous Tonic to put an End to Sleeplessness. Perhaps he thought the memory of his kiss would keep her awake at night. Presumptuous fellow.

Though he was probably right.

Tucking the bottle away in her reticule, she looked up to discover she’d taken a wrong turn and was heading toward the sea. Goodness, she needed to pay attention. She turned around and set off back the way she’d come.

Whatever had prompted Lawrence to kiss her? Just when she thought she’d found a new friend, a good listener, a confidant, he’d had to go and spoil it.

That kiss had not been a mere brushing of the lips. It had been a full-blown, soul-deep, passionate kiss. A kiss that had completely stolen her breath.

Though, she hadn’t actually fainted, despite what he might think. She’d just…collapsed a little.

She came to a halt and realized she’d accidentally turned off the High Street and was now walking in the direction of the almshouses. It was high time she gathered her wits, or someone would see her making a cake of herself and wonder what had happened.

After a few settling breaths, she started off again. As she passed the grocer’s, she thought about calling in. But what if evidence of the kiss was still on her face? Her lips felt bruised, but not in an unpleasant way. And her cheeks still felt heated.

Suddenly, she halted. Bother! She hadn’t waited to see if Lawrence’s concoction had worked on her strand of hair. Honestly! She’d behaved like a green girl, getting breathless and confused, then running off like a frightened rabbit. A mature woman, a more experienced woman, would never have betrayed such fluster. A lonely spinster like herself should be flattered to be kissed by an attractive man.

And she did feel flattered, now that she was over the initial shock. Perhaps she really was still beautiful…a little bit, anyway.

With an added spring to her step, she carried on along the street, drawing level with Matthew’s Milliners just as Sally was opening up.

Now was as good a time as any to put her proposition forward. Then, at least, something would have been salvaged from the day.

The bell jangled as she walked in, and Sally straightened up behind the counter with a welcoming smile on her face.

Which faded the instant she saw Flora.

“Good morning, Sally,” Flora said brightly. “I trust you’re well?”

“Good morning, Miss Hartington. Have you come with the intent to purchase something?”

Sally seemed a bit stiff and formal today. Never mind—it was a formal business, discussing a partnership.

“Well no, actually. I came to put a proposal to you,” she said, moving forward and placing her hands on the glass-topped counter. Sally insisted on using glass to avoid her precious fabrics and lace catching on splinters, which Flora had always thought an excellent idea.

Very deliberately, the milliner moved the bolts of cloth away from the edge of the counter. “A proposal, you say?” she asked, in a discouraging tone.

Whatever had got into the woman? With more confidence than she felt, Flora said, “Um, well, I wondered if—since Albert died—it was a struggle running the shop all on your own?” There was no response, so she went on, “I thought I might help, in a business sense as well as a practical sense. I have a good needle, and some savings—”

“What are you saying?” Sally interrupted, her eyes narrowing.

This was the moment. Flora might as well make herself plain. Straightening her shoulders, she said, “I want to propose going into business together. I’d like to buy a share in the shop and work here trimming bonnets—which I’m good at—while you teach me more about millinery.”

Ah, millinery! Her favorite word. As she looked around the shop, her heart swelled at the sight of the well-stocked shelves, the jaunty hat boxes, the sprays of silk flowers, the colored threads, and the nodding ostrich plumes. This place was just…wonderful!

“Oh!” Flora exclaimed, looking at the bow window which formed the shop front. “I see you are…what do they call it? Diversifying? You have some of Dr. Campaign’s cures for sale. How intriguing.”

“He gave them to me to sell for him a couple of days ago. But that’s no business of yours.” The unfriendly timbre of Sally’s voice brought Flora’s attention instantly back to her. She was pulling such a horrid face… Surely, the offer of going into partnership wasn’t that ludicrous?

“Miss Hartington,” Sally said haughtily. “I wouldn’t teach you my trade if you were the last person on earth.”

“But…why not? You haven’t seen my designs yet.”

“No.” Sally waved a dismissive hand as Flora rustled around in her reticule for the sketches she had with her. “I’m not interested. I shan’t change my mind.”

Flora felt her hopes trickle away like sand through her fingers.

Sally went on, “I won’t have anything to do with a wanton who kisses itinerant mountebanks, and God knows what else. This is a respectable establishment.”

The blood drained from her face, and Flora clutched at the counter for support. “Y-you s-saw us?” she stammered. “Oh, heavens, what must you think of me!”

“Believe me, you wouldn’t want to hear it.”

“What you saw was not my doing, I assure you.”

“It didn’t look like that to me. Are you having an affair with him?”

“Of course not!” Flora struggled to beat down the panic in her breast. If Sally knew, it would be all around the village in an hour. Both villages. And when Lucinda found out—

Sally snorted in disbelief.

“I hardly know the man,” Flora said truthfully. “He ambushed me. Believe me, that kiss meant nothing,” she added, somewhat less truthfully. Suddenly, it hit her—she knew exactly what was going on. Narrowing her eyes, she said, “It is you who has been indulging in an affair with Dr. Campaign, and now you’re jealous. But there’s absolutely no need. I’ve no claim on him whatsoever, nor do I want one.”

“That remains to be seen,” said Sally darkly.

“Honestly, Sally, are you seriously going to reject my proposal out of hand because of some imagined relationship?”

“He kissed you. And from what I could see, you were enjoying it.”

Yes, she had enjoyed it. It had been a long time since anyone had kissed her like that. And it might never happen again. But it had shocked her, too, and she made sure to tell Sally so.

It made no difference.

“I’m surprised at you,” Sally said. “I thought you were respectable.”

Flora’s hackles rose. Summoning up all her self-control, she replied, “You’ve quite mistaken the matter, Sally. What you saw was spur of the moment foolishness on Dr. Campaign’s part. I never encouraged him, and I never would. If you don’t believe me, let’s go over to the inn yard now, and ask him.”

That seemed to take the wind out of Sally’s sails. She looked at Flora uncertainly.

Flora had worked it out now. Lawrence must have seen—or heard—Sally coming, and that kiss had been designed to put off the interloper. Flora assumed, therefore, the pair had been involved in a liaison, but he had ended it.

By kissing her, however, the man had completely ruined her future hopes. Was there any chance of talking Sally round?

“I don’t particularly want to see Lawrence at the moment,” Sally demurred.

“Do you genuinely care for him?” Flora asked softly.

“Not overmuch. I haven’t allowed him to get too close, and nor should you. The man’s a rake who’ll break your heart and steal your money.”

“He hasn’t taken any of my money. Well, except on that first day, when I bought the tonic.”

“Don’t worry—he will. He’s already taken advantage of me, cajoling me into selling his preposterous remedies.”

“But you must be getting a commission?”

Sally was no longer listening. “I’ve a good mind to go over there now, and empty his damn elixirs over his head,” she muttered.

Flora understood how she felt. Lawrence had used both of them for his own ends. She’d like to help with the bottle-emptying. However, her dream of becoming a milliner was at stake, so she must remain calm.

“Sally, please,” she said. “How long have you known me?”

“Four years or so, since you came to live in the old Mullen cottage. Why?”

“Have you, in all that time, had reason to suspect my truthfulness or my behavior? Do I not have an unsullied reputation?”

“Well, up until this morning, I’d have said yes, you do.”

“Good. I’d never do anything to spoil that spotless reputation, especially now my niece is married to the Earl of Beckport.”

“Perhaps. But Lawrence is very persuasive. He has certain charms, skills—”

“Which I can assure you he hasn’t used on me. I’m certain he was just trying to make you jealous, for some nefarious reason.”

The battle light had returned to Sally’s eye. “In that case, I believe I will go and ask him what he’s about.”

“I’ll come with you. He can’t lie to both of us. Afterwards, perhaps we can talk again about my proposal.”

But the issue was not to be resolved. Not to Sally’s satisfaction, nor to Flora’s.

For when they arrived at The George Inn some ten minutes later, Dr. L. E. Campaign, his dog, his wagon, and his riding horse had all completely vanished.