“Most women cannot make decisions on their own, Mr Seymour,” Willoughby continued. “It is our duty as men to show them the right way. They would be helpless without us.”
Her spoon clattered onto her plate, drawing everyone’s attention.
“I do apologise–butterfingers,” she explained. “Do continue, Mr Willoughby. I find this subject most fascinating.”
She hoped that he detected the dryness in her voice. Her mother did, sending her a warning look. She smiled sweetly at her before focusing on the horrid man to her right.
“This soup could use less seasoning, Mrs Crauford. I had a similar soup in a well-known establishment just last month, and it was superb.”
“Perhaps you would like to move onto the next course, Mr Willoughby?”
“I do think it best.” He pushed the soup away from him. “I do hope that the next will be better.”
Selina felt compelled to stand up for Mrs Albermarle’s cooking.
“Only a person of a refined palate will appreciate Mrs Albermarle’s food.”
Uncle Edmund coughed, sending bits of soup flying from his mouth.
“Oh, I do apologise,” he said. “It seems that my soup went down the wrong way.”
Aunt Dorothy motioned for the servants to the next course. The roast suckling pig was brought out with various sides.
“Your servants are terribly slow,” Willoughby said. “Do you take a whip to them?”
Selina stifled a gasp. What kind of a monster would take a whip to his own servants?
“I cannot abide by laziness and tardiness,” he continued. “Just a whip here and there will shape this lot up.”
She was angry for the servants. They had obviously heard what he had said as their faces were sullen and their backs stiff as they moved around the room.
“I once fired all of my servants and hired new ones that were more pliable and could be moulded into the servants that I expect them to be. I find the Asians to be hard little workers. I was in India for a number of years, and you never did see a pair of legs run any faster. It was a harsh reality when I returned home and realised that my own servants were not up to scratch. Full of pride, you see.”
“India?” her mother said. “How exciting.”
He shook his head. “Not at all, Mrs Seymour. The heat is suffocating, and I abhorred the smell of them. Always burning some horrid incense in their temples and homes. Of course, we allow them to keep their religion as long as they remain docile and obedient.”
The man was genuinely disgusting. How could he talk about a race of people in that manner? Had he no shame?
“I find all people to be equals, Mr Willoughby. There are the haves and the have-nots, and the only thing that separates us is money and status. Imagine you were to lose all that you have? Would you be able to survive?”
“What a ridiculous notion, Miss Seymour! This is why I say that women should be seen and not heard. It does you no good to be so outspoken.”
Aunt Dorothy stood up. “May I ask that you carve the pig, Mr Willoughby? I would hate for it to grow cold before you have had your fill.”
“It would be my pleasure, Mrs Crauford.”
He stood up and pulled the pig closer to him. She knew that Mrs Albermarle would have already sharpened the knife. Sure enough, it sliced through the pork like butter. Selina noticed how he first served himself and then cut more pieces for the other people at the table. She decided that it was best that she remain quiet for the remainder of the dinner, only speaking if addressed. She knew that Alex would never behave in this way. He was kind and considerate, nothing like this pompous fellow. It is strange how I can suddenly see Alex’s good qualities when I did not acknowledge them before.
Mr Willoughby continued to criticise everything about her aunt’s house as he ate his meal. No sooner would he finish his meal than he would harp on about the low-quality ingredients used, and how he was used to the best. The man was everything that she despised about his kind. She hoped that she would never have to see him again, but that was solely left up to her aunt. I could never marry a man like this. What was Aunt Dorothy thinking?
Ophelia couldn’t stop giggling. “Surely he was not that bad, Selina?”
“He was worse, Phee. Everything that came out of his mouth was foul, demeaning, and rude. I have no notion of how I managed to sit through the entire dinner without dumping his meal on his head!”
Her sister’s giggles soon turned to coughs, and Selina grew alarmed. She quickly fetched the glass of water by the bedside and handed it to her. Ophelia took grateful sips of the water, lying back on the bed with a sigh.
“Better?” she asked.
Her sister nodded. “I do love to laugh, but I’m finding it somewhat difficult right now. My chest feels rather tight.”
Guilt attacked Selina as she looked at her sister’s frail form. Just this morning she had seemed better, but she was looking decidedly weaker now.
“Phee, do you forgive me?”
“Whatever for?” She smiled. “Did you steal something from me?”
“Do not jest when I am apologising. I should have never taken you on that walk. You are in this condition because of me.”
“Nonsense, Selina. I am the one who decided to dip my foot in the water, not you. You tried to save me and ended up in the water as well. Which reminds me, did anyone think to collect my shoe? They are one of my favourites. I should like to wear them tomorrow–dear Thomas will be coming to visit. It was only pure luck that the one on my foot was not lost in the river.”
“I shall take a look tomorrow, but I will have to do it when Aunt Dorothy is not watching. She would box my ears if she knew that I ventured down by the river again.”
“Oh, would you? That would be wonderful.”
Suddenly, Ophelia sat upright. “Oh my goodness! What shall I wear?”
The change was remarkable. One minute she had looked weak, and now she nearly looked like her usual cheery self. Perhaps Thomas will be good for her. If he can get her well, then I will welcome him as my brother-in-law.
Alex was not sure if going to the Crauford home would be an advisable thing for him to do. He could go there on the pretence of wishing to find out about Ophelia and her health, but he was there just yesterday, and Selina did say that her sister was improving.
“I could return Ophelia’s shoe.”
He had found it yesterday afternoon after he had left the Crauford residence.
“Or maybe I will give it to Thomas.”
The young man was anxious to see Ophelia, wanting to see for himself that she was indeed well. Alex had almost felt sorry for being the one to explain the events of the other day. Thomas had looked as though he could have fainted, particularly when Alex explained that he had to resuscitate her. Thomas had fallen into his chair, stunned that he could have lost his love. Alex knew exactly how he felt because he had experienced the same emotions regarding Selina. She had been so brave, risking her own life for her sister.
“I wish to see her, but neither do I want to cause her any more distress. She has enough to deal with.”
Alex was surer than ever that Selina held him in her affections, but how deep did her feelings go for him?
“Should I accompany Thomas? Perhaps then I will get my chance to see her again.”
But should he?
“Oh, this is beyond ridiculous! Since when have I ever been undecided?”
Since his heart decided to get involved with his decisions. He could not think clearly where Selina was concerned. His head was telling him to cut his losses and move on, but his heart wanted to pursue her and make her his.
“I am at war within myself, and it is most disturbing.”
“What is disturbing?” Thomas asked, joining him outside.
“Nothing. I have a favour to ask of you, but I do believe that you will enjoy it.”
“Yes?”
Alex fetched the shoe from the garden table and placed it in Thomas’ hand.
/> “Return this to Miss Ophelia. She lost it the day of the near drowning.”
Alex decided that it would be best not to go.
Chapter 13
Selina had to stifle a gasp. Aunt Dorothy had invited Mr Willoughby again! Of all the lousy luck available in this world, I seem to be the recipient of most of it.
“He said that he had had such a marvellous time the other night that I could do nothing but invite him once again. He dropped enough hints for me to understand that he wished to come again.”
“But when will he be coming, Dorothy?” her mother asked.
“This evening,” Aunt Dorothy mumbled.
“This evening!” her mother exclaimed. “But Dorothy, how will we ever be prepared in time for dinner? Mrs Albermarle hardly has any time to organise the menu! You know how ... specific he was the last time.”
Her mother didn’t seem to want to admit to the fact that Mr Willoughby was a horribly-fussy man who complained about nearly everything. How will they pull off a dinner worthy of the man in such a short space of time? But Aunt Dorothy merely flicked her hand, seemingly not concerned about the situation. But was that a bit of panic that she detected in her aunt’s eyes? Aunt Dorothy is just as nervous, but she will not show it. Prideful woman.
“If Mrs Albermarle is indeed a cook worth her weight in gold, then she will surely be able to concoct something that will please him. I am hardly worried, Charlotte, and neither should you be.” She turned her attention to Selina. “You, however, need to put your best foot forward this evening, Selina. None of the cheek you displayed the last time. And for heaven’s sake, do not wear any gold!”
Selina’s eyes widened. Her aunt was making the gold dress her fault, although she had specifically picked it for her.
“Dear,” her mother called. “White is a wonderful colour on you. I would pair it with your navy-blue shoes. And do wear the emerald stone about your neck–it will bring out your eyes beautifully.”
Her aunt nodded in agreement. “You are quite right, Charlotte. We must impress Mr Willoughby at all cost.”
The words ‘this time’ were not said, but her aunt’s tone left room for them. Selina didn’t want to impress the pompous fool! She would much rather spend her time in the library, catching up on much-needed reading. The last four days had been filled with nursing her sister back to health, and with the presence of Thomas, Ophelia had recovered remarkably well. She was not yet allowed to venture out of the house, but she could walk about as long as she did not wear herself out. Selina sighed. An afternoon and evening in the library would have been a welcome change of scenery.
“May I go to my room?” she asked suddenly.
Selina had no desire to further discuss Willoughby’s arrival this evening. Her aunt and mother turned to look at her as if only just realising that she was in the room. They only just spoke to me!
“Yes, of course, dear,” her mother answered. “If you must.”
She left quickly, worried that they might call her back to drone on about how suitable Willoughby was for her. When pigs fly! There were only several hours left before Mr Willoughby would be due to arrive, and she needed all the time she could get to mentally prepare herself.
“The man is either going to bore me to an early death or have me go up in flames from all the anger that I shall have simmering below the surface.”
Not only did she have to suffer his company once again, but she would have to look presentable while doing it.
“My favourite white dress will be wasted on that man. And I have to wear the necklace that Grandfather gave me during my first Season!”
She only wore it on special occasions, and this was certainly not one of those occasions. If she had known that her aunt would come across Willoughby on her outing, she might have tried all that she could to prevent her from leaving the house.
“I would not put it past Aunt Dorothy to have looked for him and invited him to dinner herself! She must be desperate to want to have that man under her roof once more.”
No one could have denied the fact that Mr Simon Willoughby was a rude and self-centred man.
“And they wish me to put my best foot forward? Even if he should ask for my hand in marriage, I will never accept him. I would rather run away and take up work on a ship!”
Perhaps a ship would be too drastic. A maid in a house far away sounded better.
“At least then I could actually marry a simple working man. But I would miss my family terribly.”
Selina knew that running away wouldn’t serve anything. It was her hope that her parents would come to their senses and refuse such a match. She sighed as she entered her room, firmly shutting the door behind her.
Alex could not have avoided Lavinia even if he had wanted to. His trip into town had been successful up until he had run into the woman or rather she had run into him. The woman had insisted that he walk with her, but he had argued that he could not walk with an un-chaperoned woman in full view of the public. She had wasted no time in conjuring one up–an elderly widow who was somewhat deaf in one ear and not in the least concerned about her charge.
“That had suited her well, especially for what she had in mind.”
For the next hour or so, he had suffered her presence. All attempts to end their tortured stroll had fallen on deaf ears, and to make matters worse, many people had witnessed their walk about the town.
“I will not be surprised if our stroll has sent the town folks’ tongues wagging. News of our supposed courtship will be rife.”
He laughed, finding some amusement in the situation. No doubt it had been precisely what Lavinia had wanted, but she was mistaken if she believed that it would coerce him to ask for her hand.
“This is not the first time that I have been talked about, and neither will it be the last. Gossip cannot force a man to do something of which he does not accept or agree to.”
He had years yet to marry, whereas she did not. Just a few more years, and she would be declared a spinster, while he would remain a suitor to be envied and sought out by women of a marrying age. Did he think it fair? Not particularly, but that was not likely an aspect of life that he could change. How did he feel about matrimony? Alex considered the subject while strolling through his estate, stopping to pick a wildflower.
“I am not opposed to it, quite the opposite. However, neither do I believe it to be an absolute necessity. Who would stop me from taking an urchin off the streets of London and declaring him to be my heir?”
There would be speculation, but he doubted that anyone would attempt to expose the fabrication.
“Not if they wished to suffer exclusion by one of the wealthiest men in the country.”
Money seemed to be everything for both the upper and lower classes, and to some degree, he understood the need, but never should it influence one’s own moral compass. Alex knew full well why Lavinia had set her eyes on him, and it had nothing to do with his character. Mr Mostyn had made a couple of bad choices, and his family was suffering for it. News of his rapidly-declining coffers had spread through town like the plague. But that had not been the only thing he had heard. Thomas had recently brought to his attention that there were rumours concerning him and Selina. Considering the fact that no one had witnessed their interaction that afternoon and that he had openly spoken about it to her family should have been enough to keep doubt being cast on the situation.
A Charming Lady for the Intriguing Baronet: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 22
