Simon entered his study. “Are you talking to yourself again?”
“I give myself the best advice. Of course, I would be talking to myself. Don’t you?”
His friend shook his head. “No, it is only for the insane, and I am not insane.”
“And yet you are friends with me. That says a lot, don’t you think?
Simon laughed. “It could just mean that I took pity on you.”
“If you say so, but we both know that it isn’t true. I distinctly remember fishing you out of a pond.”
Simon coloured slightly. “Yes, all right, point taken.”
Alex’s friend was several years younger than him, but not so much so that they couldn’t form a good friendship. Simon was one of the few people of his own social class that he did not mind associating himself with. Perhaps because he is the impoverished third son of a Viscount. Alex had taken the young man under his wing, helping him to straighten up the mess that he had made of his life. When he had fished Simon out of the shallow pond, he had been beaten up and was unconscious.
Luckily, his head had landed on an area in the pond where the land was higher, or he would have drowned to death, despite the pond being only calf deep. Simon had turned his life around, eventually taking over a few of Alex’s investments, and making him a fortune. Alex was a wealthier baronet because of him. Of course, he paid Simon a generous salary, so much so that he had been reintroduced into the Ton as an eligible bachelor. Alex was glad for him, he truly was.
“Are you ready for the dinner?” he asked.
Simon scratched his head. “To tell you the truth, I’m rather nervous. I’m worried that I’ll become tongue tied when I see her.”
“Were you tongue tied last night?”
“No! Oddly enough, I couldn’t stop talking. I spoke about my life, you, my job–”
“Wait,” Alex interrupted. “Did you just say that you spoke about me?”
“Yes. Why?”
“What did you say?”
Simon’s hand went up again. “I cannot remember, to tell the truth. I was just so enthralled that a woman like her was actually interested in what I had to say.”
Alex would not accept that. He needed to know precisely what Simon may have said about him.
“Just try to remember, Simon. You were speaking to the sister of a woman who has suddenly taken a dislike to me, and I haven’t the foggiest notion why. I need to know what you said.”
Simon took a seat, sitting forward to rest his elbows on the desk.
“I know that I would not have said anything negative; you can trust me on that.”
“I suppose that I can be thankful for small mercies, but I must know the details. Try to recall your words to Ophelia.”
Simon sat there for a while, his brow furrowed. Alex could see that he was deep in thought for he had started to chew on his fingernails. What he is biting on, I do not know, for he hardly has a nail left!
“I’ve got it!” Simon suddenly shouted.
He startled Alex, making him jump an inch off his chair.
“Did you have to bellow it from the rooftops?”
Simon’s shoulders dipped. “I apologise. I merely became excited. I remember what I said to her, and it was good.”
“Well? Spit it out, man!”
“I told Ophelia that you had spoken greatly about Miss Seymour, your lady. How you had praised her sketches and likened her to a unique woman. A woman different from the rest.”
It was the truth, but Simon made him sound like a lovesick puppy, chasing after his master.
“And what did Ophelia say?”
“That she thought that you were a good man, despite what her sister said about you. Apparently, Miss Seymour quite fancied you until she met you at the ball. I have no notion of what you did to incur her wrath, but she is angry with you.”
Alex sighed. “I thought as much.”
“What will you say to her when you see her at the dinner?”
Alex shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t sure yet. All he wanted to do was to fix whatever had happened between them. Just how he was going to do it was beyond him.
“I must get her on her own—that is for certain. After that, we’ll see. Perhaps I will be straightforward and question her sudden ice-maiden act towards me. I do not know how she will receive it, but life isn’t without its risks.”
Simon nodded. “I do not wish to be in your shoes, Alex. I do not know what I would do should Ophelia decide to become cold towards me. I would probably cry beneath her bedroom window, reciting sonnets and singing love songs.”
Was Simon in love with the Seymour sister? He had not said as much, but his words were loud and clear.
“You did not mention loving the lovely Ophelia.”
“Oh, I do not know if it is love! I have only just met her, but I cannot wait to see her again. She is simply amazing.”
Alex had never seen Simon like this before. Could this be love?
“Perhaps you are merely infatuated with her.”
Simon stood up, pacing the floor. “I don’t know, Alex. I just don’t know. But when I see her smile, I feel as though the world has suddenly stopped moving. Her eyes, so beautiful and blue, could put the stars to shame. And her laugh? Ha! Her laugh is the sound of a million streams on a sunny day. I could listen to it all day long. I wanted to reach out and touch her hair, just to see if it were spun gold, for it glistened under the lights. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were an angel, come down from heaven to walk among us mere mortals.”
He sighed and fell into the chair, a silly grin on his face. Alex was speechless. The flowery words that had flowed out of Simon’s mouth were unexpected and just this side of insanity. Was that truly what he saw when he looked at Ophelia? And I? How do I see Selina? Alex imagined raging fires, erupting volcanoes, a siren beckoning seamen to their death. But she was also the fresh dew on an early summer’s day, the song of a nightingale as it called to its mate, and a stream that provided sweet tasting water to quench the thirst of one’s soul. She was both fire and water, a dangerous combination.
“You certainly have a silver tongue, Simon. No wonder you have always been popular with the ladies.”
“I would leave all my admirers for just an hour spent with Ophelia. She is simply wonderful, Alex. I have not stopped thinking about her. I almost feel as though I have been dreaming, and that I never did meet her.”
“Do I need to get a bucket of water for you? Or I could pinch your arm.”
Alex reached across to do as he said, but Simon jumped out of the way.
“No thank you that will not be necessary. The last time you pinched me I sported a horrible bruise for an entire week. Kindly keep those thick fingers to yourself.”
“Very well, as long as you are certain that you are not dreaming. Why don’t we get going?”
“G-go? Now?”
“Yes, now. I do not wish to be late for the dinner. I would not go if not for Selina being there.”
Simon started to fiddle with his clothing, his hands nervously dusting at imaginary dirt.
“Do I look all right? I just bought this dinner jacket today. The tailor said that I looked quite dapper in it.”
A tailor would say anything to make a sale, but Alex had to admit that Simon looked well-dressed.
“Yes, you look all right. I am sure that Ophelia will appreciate the time that you have taken in your appearance tonight. I cannot recall you ever taking as much time and trouble over another woman.”
“That is because Ophelia is not like any other woman that I have met. There are so many other men who would be better for her than I, but no one would treat her as well as I can.”
“Do I hear marriage bells in the distance?”
Simon shot his friend a withering look before wiping his shoes on the back of his trousers.
“You should not concentrate on Ophelia and me, but on how you will approach Selina. She looks to be a force to be reckoned with. She may just be your per
fect fit.”
“I would not count my chickens before they hatch, Simon. I need to talk to her first. I may just find that I do not like her, and that will be that.”
Simon snickered. “I seriously doubt that. You have never put so much energy into a woman before.”
That was because no other woman had quite intrigued him as Selina had done. She had grabbed his attention the moment he had seen her and kept it throughout their afternoon together. Where had that Selina disappeared to?
“Come, let us get going before your flowers wilt.”
Simon had gone flower picking in the garden that afternoon, intending to gift it to Ophelia. It was a sweet gesture, and he had thought to do it himself, but there was no telling what Selina might do with them. Probably tear them up in front of me.
“Should I leave them in their vase, then?”
“That is solely up to you, Simon. But do hurry–I hate to be tardy.”
Alex took his jacket and put it on as Simon left the room to fetch his flowers in the kitchen. In a mere few hours, he was going to get Selina by herself and confront her about her sudden change in attitude towards him. Of course, he was going to apologise for keeping her in the dark concerning his title, but he had his reasons. He had to make sure that Selina was not like other women, going after him for his wealth. Now that he had established that she wasn’t, he could move forward.
“But not until we resolve our little spat.”
Alex hoped that Selina would be open to speaking with him.
Lavinia looked around. All was ready, she just needed her guests to arrive. Despite their dwindling funds, she had spared no expense in the variety of food prepared, the entertainment, and her dress. For an exorbitant fee, her seamstress had transformed one of her old dresses into a work of art.
Three other women had assisted her in sewing each individual bead onto her dress, making it heavier than she had mistakenly judged it to be. Lavinia had purposefully chosen a green-coloured dress similar to the one worn by Selina the night before. She had first gone with a stand-out red dress, but her need to outshine Selina in every way had her reaching for the emerald green dress. However, the seamstress had incorporated red into the dress with the intricate beading that covered her dress.
“I will be the centre of attention. Sir Russell will not spare a glance in Selina’s direction.”
But what if he did? Lavinia didn’t want to think about it. She had an entire evening to get through, and she couldn’t be obsessing over what the baronet might or might not do. Lavinia had a part to play, the starring role in a story that had her winning the prince.
“Where are my guests? Surely some should have arrived by now.”
She peeked out of her bedroom window. There was not a carriage in sight yet, and the dinner was due to start in just over half an hour. What if nobody came?
“No, Lavinia. Do not even entertain that idea. They all guaranteed me that they would come.”
She couldn’t go downstairs yet for she wished to make a grand entrance of floating down the stairs in her custom-tailored dress. She hoped that Alexander would be the first to arrive, so that she may get a few minutes of his time to herself before the other guests arrived. This was all for him, at the end of the day. For their future together. And if all went well, then she was as good as married. A loud sound startled her. It sounded as though something had been dropped.
“What have these useless servants done now?”
She hurried down the stairs in time to see her father try to grab one of the young maids that had rushed to help the one on the floor.
“Come ’ere, lovey,” he slurred. “Give yer Master a big kiss!”
Both the women crouching on the floor looked terrified as they cleaned up what looked like her cake on the floor.
“Father!”
He looked up. “You look bootiful, Laveenia. Where you goin’?”
His dragged words sounded appalling to her ears.
“Father, you are drunk! I asked you to behave yourself this evening! I have guests.”
He pointed a finger at her, stumbling slightly.
“Lookey ’ere, Laveenia. This is my house, a’right? I can do what I want.”
Lavinia was having none of that. She marched down the stairs, determined to get her father to do her bidding. Since their financial situation, he had been more difficult. His drinking habits had increased, and there was seldom a day that he went without a drink. What would her guests say if they were to see her father like this? She made sure to avoid the mess on the floor, not wishing to get any of it on her shoes. Once she was close enough, she let her father have it.
“Father, I do not accept this behaviour. I need you to leave and go sober up elsewhere. How else do you expect me to land a rich husband if you insist on getting drunk and acting the fool?”
Her father’s already red face seemed to grow darker in colour.
“You forget who you’re s-speaking to, Daughter. I am your father!”
“No, you are not my father at this moment. You are nothing but a drunk!”
Lavinia didn’t see the slap coming. The hard blow to her cheek sent her flying backwards. She landed on the servants and the fallen cake. Lavinia lay there, stunned that her father had taken a hand to her. He had never done that before, not even when he was angry with her. Her father just stood there with a sneer on his face,
“That should teach you. I am your father, and I demand respect around here! Richards!”
He went in search of the butler, leaving the maids to help her up.
“Miss, are you all right? Can we help you?”
Lavinia saw the pity in their eyes, and she couldn’t stand it.
“Just get away from me! I can help myself.”
Lavinia carefully got off the floor, wincing as she felt a pain in her hip. She must have fallen pretty hard, although the maids had broken her fall. She touched her smarting cheek, knowing that a bruise would show up during the course of the dinner. Just then, she heard a carriage draw up to the house. Stricken by the thought that someone could see her like this, Lavinia ran up the stairs, locking herself in her bedroom. She just needed a moment to herself.
“I need to change, and I need to hide this.”
Lavinia touched her cheek, licking her dry lips. She tasted metal. Was she bleeding? She hurried to her mirror, seeing the thick red liquid that was oozing out of her nose. How had she not felt it before? Lavinia grabbed a cloth, staunching the flow. She looked out her window to see who had pulled up to the house.
“Argh, Selina.”
Of all her guests, it had to be Selina! Lavinia couldn’t have her seeing her like this. She held the cloth to her nose as she pulled out dress after dress. Unchecked tears were streaming down her face.
Chapter 8
Selina entered the Mostyn home with great foreboding. There was a heavy feeling in the air that made her feel uncomfortable. She was of a mind to turn back and go home, but it would be rude of her. They were greeted by whom she assumed was the butler, who led them into the house, taking their coats from them. Where was Lavinia? A good hostess always made herself readily available to her guests, but she was nowhere to be found.
A Charming Lady for the Intriguing Baronet: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 13
