If you read
The Peculiar Folly of Long Legged Meg,
you will be acquainted with Lady Flora Hartnell already - or the side of her
that she allows anybody to see. As the best friend of Persephone, the Dowager
Marchioness of Holbrooke, she has so far played only a small role in that story
and is quite happy to be a peripheral, merry player.
Alas, it's finally
time for her own tale to be told, pink toes and all.
Flora has
always known this moment was coming. But she's been putting it off - a bit like
her scribe, who is a terrible procrastinator.
But Flora's
colorful life deserves a book of its own and her long-suffering hero deserves a
confession.
As she says,
"It
is possible, you know, to tell a lie so oft that you start to believe it
yourself."
So what has
Flora been hiding and who is the man who will finally uncover her secrets?
* * * *
(Below is an excerpt from The Peculiar Folly of Long-Legged
Meg)
A frequent
guest at the lodge ever since Persey moved there, Flora visited even more often
that spring, taking advantage of the fine weather to travel the considerable
distance of ten miles from her brother's manor, borrowing his carriage even
when he had business elsewhere, or guests at home, and could not accompany her.
"Did
you not have to entertain your great-aunt from Hertfordshire too?" Persey
asked when Flora arrived unexpectedly one morning.
"Good
gracious, no! The old dear thinks me a scandalous woman, a lost cause, but she
adores Francis. Better he face her alone." She paused in the hallway of
Persey's cottage only long enough to assess her reflection in the looking glass
and adjust her hair, before she wanted to go out again. "Let's go for a ramble,
shall we? While the rain holds off."
Flora had
never been a great walker before this. If there was a horse and carriage at
hand she would rather use that to travel, even just a few hundred yards, and
really a comfortable chair set down anywhere— indoors or out— was to her a
siren's call, especially if there was the promise of champagne too. So a
"ramble", during which she might perspire, ruin her shoes and spill
the contents of her glass, was not something for which Flora generally
volunteered herself. Nor had she previously shown much enthusiasm for mud, but
she encountered a vast amount of it in her pursuit of Radcliffe sightings that
spring. Lady Flora Hartnell also learned rather more than she ever wanted to
know about horticulture, for Persey, determined to use her friend's new passion
for good, enhanced their walks with plenty of worthwhile educational lectures
on that subject.
It was
amusing to see her friend getting red-faced, mud-stained and out of breath for
a young man who barely even seemed to notice her and was merely polite in reply
to her attempts at flirting. It was less amusing however when Flora took to
teasing Persey about the way he reacted to her
presence.
"Well,"
exclaimed the exhausted woman, as she fell backward into a parlor chair,
collapsing like a stabbed sack of flour. "It's plain to see he has eyes
for only you, Persey. What are you going to do about it?"
"For
me?"
"It's
obvious, darling. Poor Francis will be devastated, but I wouldn't blame you for
taking the opportunity."
"He's
the gardener, Flora. Minty's gardener."
Her friend
leaned forward, chin in hand, elbow on the table. "I do believe he'd much
rather be digging and planting his seed in your garden."
Persey
shook her head, trying not to laugh. "My priority is Honoria and her
future. She needs me on her side, the voice of reason. I haven't time for
anything else."
"Well,
I hope you get Lady Honoria settled soon, because your garden is overdue for tending."
"I
tend my own garden, thank you very much."
"Don't
we all? But it's not quite the same as having someone else do it for you, is it,
darling?"
* * * *
Find out
all Lady Flora's secrets and the fate of an unfortunate duke who has no idea what he's in
for - this spring in THE PECULIAR PINK TOES OF LADY FLORA.
Illustration - Portrait of "Aphrodite" by William Adolphe Bouguereau
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