She closed her eyes and sank back against her cushion.
"Flora" he would say again, hot and longingly. He would cover her in kisses and touch her in secret places.
"Oh Francesco!" She groaned.
Startled by her own voice she opened her eyes again.
She pressed her lips together to keep any other unwanted noises from escaping and quickly glanced around the room to make sure nobody had crept in in the meantime.
Anyway, he had sighed her name against her shoulder and he was the only naked man she had ever seen, why should she not be thinking about him in that way? It was only natural! Nothing was to come of it anyway. She knew he was as far above her as the lofty snow caps of the Alps in the horizon.
And she had broken his nose. Yes…that might enter into the equation as well.
She drank more wine and picked up her pencil.
He said "The Sulk of Dreary" but that is MY soubriquet for Surrey. Mine, mine, mine! I invented it.
Does it mean his mind is working like mine? Are we soul mates after all? Maybe HE is the man I was always meant for…?
Yes, I know, now I'm being silly, I could never marry him and I don't even WANT to get married! I want to be a prissy lady companion taking the waters in Bath. It sounds like the right career for me.
But would it not be hilarious, if I, the little Flora Parker, were to become a Princess? My mother would overcome death and live forever, only to tell every single person in the world how her daughter had married a Karlsburg!
She turned a page and pursed her lips. Then she swung her pencil with some flourish and wrote:
Princess Flora of Karlsburg-Sforza
L'Arciducessa Flora di Chiaroburgo-Sforza
Her Royal Highness, the Archduchess of Lombardy
HRH The Archduke of Lombardy and HRH the Archduchess have announced the birth of their son and heir, Franz Eugen Benedictus… their daughter Maria Theresa Grazia Eugenia
To his Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Austria:
Mein lieber Franz, bitte besuche uns am Lago Maggiore! In Liebe, deine Flora!
To his Holiness, the Pope:
Good old Uncle Pius, I have sent you the recipe for the salve. It should help with your gout!
Kisses, Flora!
She closed her diary and giggled. Then she began to cry.
He hates me! I broke his nose and I will never see him again!
***
Flora remained in bed for another three days.
On the morning of the fourth she decided it was time to finally get up, although she could not say she felt any better. She had been haunted by nightmares of the Prince being assassinated by Dominic St. Yves. In one of them, the Duke had lifted her up and banged her head against the Prince's. Sideways.
After having completed her morning toilette she called for a maid to help her dress.
Her mood did not improve throughout the procedure.
Flora was scowling unhappily. She longed for England, for a place far away from Lombardy and its staggering Princes. A cold and rainy place to be sad in. Not this paradise on earth.
She left her room, diary in hand. There were still many things she needed to ponder with the help of her paper friend and there was nobody else to confide in, not with the matters concerned.
As she got down to the veranda, Lord Darlington and Lord Lackerby were sitting at the table, enjoying the view. When she joined them, they interrupted their conversation, got up and bowed as she sat down. She put the diary onto the empty chair next to her, intending to stroll down to the lake after breakfast for some privacy.
A footman rushed towards her, inquiring after her choices of food.
"Miss Parker!" Lackerby cried with delight. "Heard marvellous things 'bout you! You perchance a revolutionary en déguise?"
"Yes, Sir, I'm quite the Jacobite," she said wearily.
"Good morning, Miss Parker." Darlington softly smiled at her. "How good to see you recovered from your affaiblissement."
How could anybody be that flawless? He made her feel dreadfully inferior. And why did they always have to speak French, anyway?
"Good morning, my Lords. Have their Graces not been down yet?"
Lackerby made a puffing noise. "Yes they have, but they've gone up again. Thank Goodness! They're not to be borne! Tell us, Miss Parker, what's with the starry eyes? They're in a haze! Have been for days, really! Quite a nuisance. Am thinking 'bout going back to Paris. Had not thought it could get any worse with Surrey, but look at the man! What's the woman done to him? Used to be such a sport. Now this! Love's a terrible thing. Telling you, Parks, I'm happy it's never inflicted itself upon me."
Parks? PARKS? Flora's mouth twitched.
"Eh?" Lackerby's mouth curled into a snooty snarl.
Flora coughed, trying to overcome the "Parks".