Moonstone Obsession

by Elizabeth Ellen Carter

  “Miss Rosewall, I wonder if I might have a moment of your time?”

  Lady Abigail stood in the doorway, elegantly dressed for a day at home in a fashionable bed jacket of mulberry coloured silk over lighter red skirts.

  In her own grey dress, Selina felt as drab as a pigeon might next to a robin.

  “By all means Lady Abigail,” she answered, making her way to one of the wicker armchairs and inviting the other woman to join her.

  Lady Abigail glided across the room, a cloud of jasmine and gardenia perfume following in her wake, as did a housemaid with a tray of tea with two cups.

  Selina was put on her guard. This meeting wasn’t by happenstance; it was engineered, which could only mean that Lady Abigail believed she had the upper hand.

  “I understand you consider yourself to have a connection with Sir James,” she announced once the maid had left.

  “My connection is a matter of fact, my Lady. Sir James and my brother are now business partners, and James...” Selina deliberately dropped his title and watched Lady Abigail’s expression change “and I have become close friends.”

  “I’m glad you’ve not decided to act the ingénue, Miss Rosewall. It is so much better to speak plainly of these matters,” Lady Abigail responded. “It is your friendship that I wish to talk to you about.”

  “Since we’ve agreed to speak bluntly I have to ask what interest our friendship is to you?” Selina replied.

  Lady Abigail smiled confidently. “As you're new to London and doubtless unaccustomed to society, it would be unreasonable to expect you to know there is to be an announcement of my engagement to James by the end of summer.”

  Selina forced herself not to react to the barb in the preface to Lady Abigail's statement. Instead, she watched the woman sit back and regard her. That was it? Selina released that Lady Abigail had played her trump so she continued with renewed confidence.

  “I’ve heard the rumours, Lady Abigail, but I have to say that when James and I have been together, your betrothal is not something which has crossed his lips,” she said, allowing the underlying meaning of her words to filter through.

  It had the desired reaction. Lady Abigail’s eyes narrowed and a slow rise of heat flushed her cheeks. Selina knew her actions were uncharitable, but couldn’t help herself.

  Then Lady Abigail’s expression turned shrewd.

  “I’ve underestimated you, Miss Rosewall. It is a mistake that I shan’t make again, but I ask as a courtesy that you do not underestimate me either,” she said. “My determination to my course of action was set in motion long before your arrival. Despite James’ wavering over the past two months, there is too much momentum to prevent there being an announcement.”

  “Engagements are broken all the time, Lady Abigail,” Selina observed. “And while it is true you have known James longer, I believe I am well enough acquainted with him to be confident in his ability to steer his own course in life.”

  Lady Abigail flushed fully. Pressing her advantage, Selina stood and walked out the room, only to be met immediately outside by Lady Margaret who motioned with a nod of her head to follow her. She led the way to the library down the hall.

  Nausea effervesced in Selina’s stomach. How long had Lady Margaret been standing there? How much had she heard? What would she think of a mere commoner hinting at intimacies with her grandson?

  Once alone Selina faced Lady Margaret with as brave a face as she could muster.

  “Bravo, Selina,” approved Lady Margaret. “It's about time someone stood up to that little harlot.

  “And don’t look so shocked, dear. I might be old but I still remember a thing or two about sex and how it can completely addle the mind of the male of the species.

  “James is making the right choice in you.”

  Selina was stunned for a moment before finally finding her voice. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she stammered.

  “Now don’t do that. I’m just beginning to like you. Don’t spoil it by being conventional,” Lady Margaret chided. “I’d like to know how you came to be in love with my grandson.”

  Chapter Eleven

  14 July

  As if to make up for the previous days of bad weather, Wednesday dawned bright, clear, and warm.

  Over breakfast, Edgar, a thoughtful but rather quiet man in his early thirties, announced his intention to go down to Padstow and spend the day walking along the wide sandy beaches of the River Camel to the cliff at the river mouth. Accordingly, he was dressed in sensible attire for the task.

  “Do tell us more about your interest in the local cliffs, Mr Elkerton,” enquired Lady Catherine.

  “This is a fascinating part of England, Lady Catherine,” he answered, “The north Cornwall coast sees so much adverse weather and the strata in the rocks are most interesting. The folded and contorted stratification of shale and sandstone is unique in southern England.

  “I’ve spent some time looking at Culm Measures and the folding rocks at Millook Haven about thirty miles from here. Being in Padstow for this summer allows me to compare the features of the natural harbour at Bude which is where I had the opportunity to explore during the spring.”

  Lady Christina regarded him with an indulgent smile.

  “We must have the Rector of St Petroc’s over for tea,” she announced. “He’s an amateur geologist. I believe he has some fascinating collections, although I must confess to not holding so much of an interest in rocks myself.”

  “I’d enjoy that very much Lady Christina,” Elkerton replied, “it’s good of you to advance the interests of science. Indeed, it would be wonderful if the Rector could be persuaded to host a walking tour of the area. I’m sure he’d be a wealth of knowledge.”

  Edgar leaned forward conspiratorially. “Not only of geology but perhaps he can tell us tales of pirates and smugglers!”

  “That would very interesting indeed, Mr Elkerton. I believe we'd all agree it would be a marvellous diversion,” Lady Catherine answered, to nods of agreement around the table.

  Selina glanced at Lady Abigail and suspected that the woman wasn’t so impressed that she was included in such a sweeping invitation.

  She wondered about the nature of the friendship between Abigail and Catherine.

  Both beautiful, pampered, and spoiled by doting parents and the flattering of numerous admirers, the pair behaved like sisters, and it would be easy to confuse them for such from their similar fashionable figures, grey-green eyes, and “peaches and cream” complexions. The main attribute which set them apart was their hair colour. Lady Abigail’s was as white as freshly laid snow while Lady Catherine’s was a light brown.

  They claimed to share a deep and adoring friendship, but in reality there was a rivalry between the two of them that had manifested itself particularly during the confinement of the past few days.

  Regarding them both at the table, Selina decided that Lady Catherine was the more pleasant of the two; then, a thought occurring to her, she turned to Edgar Elkerton.

  “Might I impose on going into town with you, Mr Elkerton?” asked Selina. “I have some errands to run for Lady Margaret and would love to finish my painting before the afternoon.”

  “Of course, Miss Rosewall, but I must leave in ten minutes. I want to catch the outgoing tide.”

  A few moments later as Selina came down with her artist’s accoutrements, the letters to be sent, and orders from various shop keepers to be placed on Lady Margaret’s behalf, she met Abigail and Catherine at the foot of the stairs.

  “There you are Miss Rosewall!” Lady Catherine exclaimed. “We’re so glad to have caught you before you left.”

  “Yes, we are,” purred Lady Abigail. “You wouldn’t mind running a few errands for us too? There’s a good girl.”

  Selina fought to keep her expression neutral. Nothing like a little reminder of where one stood in the social order, she thought bitterly.

  Selina squared her shoulders and gave the pair a smile—a smile that only
her brother would know meant trouble.

  “More than happy to oblige,” Selina replied evenly and took possession of a small bundle of letters to post.

  Lady Catherine thanked her and walked away, but Lady Abigail stood, blocking her path.

  “Was there anything further, my Lady?” Selina asked with a raise of an eyebrow.

  “Just remember where you are and who you are. And what you are not.”

  * * *

  Lady Abigail’s attempts to put Selina in her place were quickly forgotten and the errands in town were quickly completed.

  Once again Selina took position on The Strand and continued her painting, pausing every now and again to sketch the faces of various passers-by while she let the paint dry on her water colour.

  Wednesday being market day meant the streets were busier than they had been the previous Saturday. People jostled to examine the wares; traders called; voices chattered. Finding herself distracted by the crowds, Selina packed her gear and moved down North Quay Parade, then marched a little way up the hill above the street until she was satisfied with her elevation and quieter position.

  She pulled out her sketch pad and started on a new scene—one that captured the boats in the little harbour in the foreground.

  A soldier's bright red jacket caught her attention and along with it a bloom of rose pink swishing alongside. It appeared Edith had found Lieutenant Walsh. The couple were at the end of harbour arm and were walking back to The Strand.

  The voice nearby startled Selina. “Are you enjoying the day, Miss Rosewall?”

  She looked round to find Lieutenant Walsh's commanding officer, Colonel Martin Pickering, beside her. He stood smartly beside the low fence that separated the path from the four foot drop to the road.

  “I am,” said Selina in reply to his enquiry. “It’s lovely to see the sun out.”

  “Indeed,” he replied personably. He smiled and there was a moment's silence that threatened to become awkward.

  “Such a coincidence to see you again, Colonel,” said Selina, filling the void.

  “Oh? How so?”

  “I’m not the only one enjoying the day.”

  She gestured with her pencil in the direction of Lieutenant Walsh and Edith.

  “Ah... yes. The lieutenant does appear to have taken a shine to Miss Edith,” the Colonel smiled indulgently. “He’s a good officer, quite sensible.”

  “Excellent, he’s the type of man Edith needs,” blurted out Selina.

  The colonel laughed and Selina blushed.

  “Oh dear, that was rather indiscreet of me. Edith is a lovely girl…”

  Colonel Pickering held his hand up to silence her.

  “No need to speak further Miss, I believe I fully understand.”

  * * *

  The sun lay poised on the edge of the cliff, its long beams promising a fine late afternoon and extended twilight.

  Before the Penventen carriage rolled to a complete stop, James threw open the door and alit. Jackson jumped out behind him. James waved the driver on through to the coach house, telling him to bring their luggage after the horses had been attended to.

  “Looking forward to being home, James?” asked Jackson as they climbed the stairs to the cathedral-like doors.

  “I feel like I’m exchanging one nest of vipers for another, but these ones are in much closer quarters,” James responded as he dusted down his coat and rapped on the door.

  “That’s hardly the way to speak of your friends,” joked the young American.

  “Friends?” James grunted, unimpressed. “I don’t know half of 'em and those I do I don’t trust.”

  “And what of Selina Rosewall?” Jackson grinned.

  “Who knows, she may not longer be here, a week with my mother might have her bags packed back to Bristol already,” James grumbled.

  “Or your Lady Abigail may have devoured her whole,” Jackson suggested.

  Ha, ha, James silently mocked.

  The door opened and the footman stepped aside. Lady Christina stood inside.

  “My darling son, you’ve arrived!” she cried. James responded dutifully.

  “Excuse me sir, I’ll go see to your luggage,” Jackson the valet announced with merriment twinkling in his eyes.

  James turned with a nod and mouthed Coward! at him.

  “Come along dear, you must be tired from your journey,” twittered Lady Christina, threading her arm through James'. “Your guests have all arrived and most of them are in the drawing room.”

  Indeed they were. He could see for himself, but his mother introduced everyone anyway—

  his grandmother whose cheek he kissed, Lady Mary whose cheek he didn’t; he shook hands with Comte Alexandre and with Edgar Elkerton who mother informed him was a geologist of some note.

  He greeted Lady Catherine with a bow over her hand, and then moved on to look Abigail in the eye. He bent his head over her hand, but barely touched it with his lips.

  He knew she felt the slight.

  “I’ve missed you James,” she chided. James nodded once to acknowledge that he’d heard her.

  “Now then, we’re all here. It’s such a nice evening, I’ve arranged to have dinner in the conservatory tonight,” Lady Christina announced.

  “Christina, we should wait for Miss Rosewall and Miss Waldren,” interjected Lady Margaret.

  “Well if those two girls are going to do me the discourtesy of being late, then I…”

  The end of Lady Christina’s sentence was lost with the sound of four people entering the house—Selina and Edith along with Colonel Pickering and Lieutenant Walsh.

  “...and that’s how Dame Archibald’s washing got full of musket shot,” concluded Colonel Pickering.

  The end of the tale was met with laughter from the two ladies and Lieutenant Walsh.

  Lady Christina greeted them in the hallway and allowed Edith to introduce the two men. The colonel apologised for the interruption, explained they were merely escorting the ladies home and would now bid them goodbye. Lady Christina's response was to insist on introducing them to the other guests.

  As introductions were made, James caught Selina’s eye. She gave him a heart warming smile which he returned, although he didn’t move from where he stood next to Lady Abigail.

  Selina was forced to own that the two of them looked very fine standing next to each other.

  “I apologise for disrupting your timetable,” said Colonel Pickering to Lady Christina. “The day was too lovely not to take full advantage and I confess that I encouraged my lieutenant in monopolising the time of these two charming young ladies.”

  Lady Christina, seeing an opportunity to add other suitors to the party, gave an expansive approbation and extended an offer for the men to dine with them later in the week.

  “Forgive me for keeping everyone waiting,” Selina added with a curtsy, giving Edith, who was staring at the retreating back of the lieutenant, a nudge.

  Edith offered a half hearted apology and followed Selina out of the room.

  * * *

  “I was beginning to think I’d never get you alone, darling,” Lady Abigail purred, leaning closer to press her breasts against James’ arm as they strolled through the hedge maze after dinner. “You seemed somewhat distracted by your new little friend over these past couple of months; I had rather thought that you’d forgotten our arrangement, though it’s usually customary for the husband to wait until after marriage before taking a mistress.”

  James found Abigail’s touch increasingly irritating and shook her off.

  “There’s not going to be a wedding, Abigail,” he said.

  She looked at him icily. “Are you against marriage in principle or are you just choosing not to marry me?”

  “At the moment no one is getting married.”

  Abigail deftly batted her fan to stir a small breeze in the still night.

  “Does your sweet miss know about this? She doesn’t seem the type to lift her skirts without a promise.”<
br />
  James' expression hardened.

  “Whereas your legs have opened more times than Parliament—and to as many men.”

  The sound of the slap may have been heard many feet away.

  James rubbed his cheek. The heat of the blow lingered.

  “Is that the best of your argument, Abigail?” he muttered.

  “We have an arrangement, James, and I’m not going to allow you to back out of it now,” she hissed angrily.

  “There is no arrangement. Only that which you and my mother have concocted together; now I’m telling you we are through and once this summer is over we will never see each other again,” said James firmly, then added more gently, “I’m sorry I’ve gone along with this during the past year. That was an error of judgement on my part.”

  “The only error is the one you’re making now,” Abigail tried reasonably. “I can see why you’re infatuated with her. She’s a pretty girl, probably with a very sweet and docile nature.

  “But you have an adventurous, wanderlust spirit. You’ll get tired of her sooner or later and she doesn’t strike me as being the type of woman who would kindly overlook her husband’s 'side pursuits'. Neither would her brother come to think of it.”

  James said nothing, so she continued.

  “Just get this business deal done with William Rosewall and if that includes romancing his spinster sister for the summer then so be it. But don’t you forget,” she added, laying a hand across his arm, “your future lies with me and the sooner you make that clear by announcing our engagement, then the better it will be. The Masquerade Ball in a fortnight’s time will be ideal.”

  She turned to walk away from him.

  James was unable to hide his irritation.

  “Are you dense, woman? I will not wed you under any circumstances.”

  “I beg to disagree,” said Lady Abigail. She turned back and regarded him with a languorous smile. James had once thought that smile breathtakingly beautiful, but was now aware of the treachery it revealed.

  “One word from me to the right ears in court,” she said, “and I can have your beloved’s brother so tied up in legal injunctions that he would be broke by winter. And another word could have him up on charges of treason.”