An Absolute Scandal: A Novel by Penny Vincenzi

Author:Penny Vincenzi [Vincenzi, Penny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction, romance
ISBN: 9780385526968
Google: SWkev8JMG4oC
Amazon: B0015DWLDK
Publisher: Anchor
Published: 2008-06-10T04:00:00+00:00

It was very clever, Colin’s plan, Flora thought. And she could see it was just about feasible. It wouldn’t exactly save the house for her—and certainly not her Meadow—but it would leave her far from destitute, with Lloyd’s neatly done down. She smiled at him.

“Thank you so much. I really do appreciate your devoting so much thought to my problems. I’m deeply touched. And I do see that it could work…Look, let me have a think about it, would you? And then we can proceed to the next stage.”

“Of course.”

“And meanwhile, will you have some more cottage pie?”

“I certainly will. It’s absolutely delicious. Is it made from salt-marsh lamb?”

“Is there any other sort?” said Flora, and smiled at him. “Now—some more wine to go with it? I presume your driver’s coming for you.”

“He is indeed. So yes, please. And maybe we should change the subject. There’s another lovely concert in Cardiff Cathedral in two weeks’ time. Would you like to go?”

“I’d love to,” she said.

After he had gone, she went outside and sat on the stone garden bench with another cup of coffee. It was a beautiful night and the moonlight on the calm sea was almost daytime brilliant. She put her cup down, walked to the gate of the Meadow, and, after hesitating for a moment, opened it and set off down the path to the sea, shining her big torch in front of her. A heavy scuffling fifty yards ahead startled her for a moment; then she smiled. She knew what it was. Mr. Badger as William had called him—or to be precise Mr. Badger’s great-grandson’s great-great-grandson—setting off across his run. He followed exactly the same route on his hunting expeditions, as all badgers do, and always used the same place, just above the ditch to relieve himself; his run was as clearly marked across the Meadow as any man-made footpath. He froze briefly in the beam, then scuttled firmly across, his big heavy body moving the grass on either side of him. She switched her torch off; the moonlight, brighter without it, shone down on what looked like scores of rabbits: good pickings for the foxes and their young families. If there was a heaven, she thought, it must be very like this. And if it wasn’t, she didn’t want to go there.

There was nowhere she could imagine loving like this: not even the wilds of the Scottish Highlands, or the rocky coast of the Algarve, both of which Colin had suggested as possible new homes for her. And if she adopted his plan, would she not be betraying it, this place and its beauty? But then she would have to leave it anyway, and who knew what the new owner might do? And if she was far away, at least she wouldn’t have to see it.

She stood for a while, looking at the sea, then turned and walked back up the Meadow towards the house. The lovely grey stone house that had been home to her husband’s family for more than two centuries.

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