“Will Miss Mostyn be joining us shortly?”
Uncertainty passed over the older man’s face before schooling them into mild interest.
“I am certain that she will be down in just a moment. May I lead you to the drawing room?”
Selina and Ophelia exchanged looks. What was going on? They followed closely behind him, staring around at the house. The scene that came into their view was odd, to say the least. Two maids were cleaning up the last of what had looked like a cake from the floor. They seemed frightened almost, jumping when they heard footsteps approach them. Everyone seemed to be quite tense, as though something had happened or something was about to happen. Selina noticed a few loose beads on the floor near the staircase. There were still little threads of cotton stuck to them, almost as though they had been ripped off of a garment. Had there been a scuffle? The odd skid marks on the floor seemed to suggest it.
“Do you think that something has happened?” Ophelia whispered.
“I don’t know, possibly. It seems strange, doesn’t it?”
Her sister nodded, her eyes still taking in her surroundings. A man’s voice emitted a loud call which made them all jump, more so the young maids than Ophelia and Selina.
“Richards! Where is my whisky?”
That must be Mr Mostyn. He sounded drunk, beyond drunk. Where would drinking more whisky get him? Perhaps that accounts for the cake on the floor and the troubled looks in the servants’ eyes. What had the man been doing, and where was he now? Selina would hate to come across a drunken man such as him. She had heard rumours some time ago about how Mr Mostyn was partial to serving girls when intoxicated. Had he attempted something with these two girls? Concern had her going to the women, wanting to know how they were.
“Good evening, ladies. How are you this evening?”
“Well, Miss,” the freckled one answered.
The brunette continued to keep her head down, removing all evidence of the cake from the floor. It was smashed good and proper on the floor, making their job that much harder.
“Forgive me for asking, but has something happened?”
“Like what, Selina? Stop pestering my servants, they have jobs to do.”
Lavinia’s voice was both strained and annoyed. She looked up, seeing Lavinia walk down the stairs. She had on a lovely blue dress, but it seemed rather plain for her. Selina had expected her to go all out, putting the other female guests to shame.
“Good evening, Lavinia. I was merely asking about the dropped cake.”
“Do not worry about that. Come, follow me into the drawing room.”
Lavinia walked past them, moving to a door that she flung open.
“This is the drawing room where you may wait until other the other guests have arrived. Now if you will excuse me, I hear another carriage drawing up to the house.”
As soon as Lavinia was out of earshot, Ophelia wasted no time in speaking about their host.
“Did you see her cheek? She has obviously tried to hide it with powder, but only a fool would be blind enough not to see the tell-tale signs of a handprint on her cheek.”
Selina had seen it too. It looked fresh and painful. What had happened to her? Lavinia looked determined to pretend that nothing was happening in her home.
“I noticed that. Did you see the piece of cake in her hair? I do not think that she saw it.”
“Cake in her hair? Maybe she dropped the cake or knocked into the maid carrying it.”
Selina shook her head. “I do not think so. Lavinia would see no need to come close to a servant unless they were serving her. And there is still the question of how she received that handprint on her cheek. Someone had to have slapped her quite hard.”
The hand was a large one, a man’s hand. Selina closed her eyes, a wave of sympathy washing over her.
“It was her father; it has to be him.”
Ophelia’s brow puckered. “Her father? But why? I thought that he loved his daughter. He’s always giving in to her every whim.”
“Yes, but alcohol can alter a person’s character, Phee. You heard him just now, he sounded drunk and angry.”
Ophelia’s hand went to her mouth, her gasp loud.
“Oh my! Poor Lavinia! What must she have done to deserve such a slap?”
“I haven’t the foggiest notion, Phee. But I believe that he slapped her so hard that she fell onto the cake.”
That would explain the thoroughly-squashed cake, as well as the skid marks. Not to forget the actual cake in Lavinia’s hair. Somehow she had missed it, but someone else was bound to point it out to her. Lavinia would be embarrassed, ruining her night. Even though Selina did not like Lavinia, she did not wish ill upon her.
“We should help her in some way. Her father must be kept away from her dinner party, and that piece of cake must come out of her hair.”
Ophelia shook her head. “What can we do, Selina? We are just guests here.”
“We must at least try, Phee.”
Ophelia huffed. “Very well. I will deal with the hair, but you will have to deal with the father.”
“Agreed. Keep a look out for me–I think that I know where Mr Mostyn is.”
She had noted the direction the shout had come from, storing it in her mind. Selina had always believed herself to be something of a sleuth, enjoying the opportunity to put her investigative skills to good use. She left the drawing room, keeping an eye out for Lavinia and her guests.
“The servants too, for that matter.”
She wouldn’t want to be caught red-handed by them. Gossip of her snooping would have reached her own home by sundown tomorrow. She crept closer to the source of the noise, not knowing exactly how she would address the matter of the drunken Mr Mostyn. Selina took a quick look behind her and moved on again, nearly screaming when she came face-to-face with the very man she had been looking for.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the pretty Selina. You are quite the beauty, aren’t you?”
She could smell hard liquor on his breath, finding it hard to stomach. Selina took a step back.
“Oh, Mr Mostyn! How lovely to see you. I was just coming to greet you. I thought to myself: Selina, you must go and greet the Master of the house. And so here I am.”
Mr Mostyn gave her a look over, making her uncomfortable.
“Yes, here you are. Why don’t you step into my study for a moment? I would like to find out how your family is. I did not get an opportunity to speak to them last night.”
Step into my den, said the lion to the fawn. It was a terrible idea to do so, but Selina found herself walking into the man’s study, silently praying that she would find a way to keep him from the dinner party. A method that does not involve me, please. Selina jumped when she saw Mr Mostyn close behind her.
“Oh, there you are! I find myself quite parched, Mr Mostyn. May I have something to drink?”
She needed to stall him while she thought of a way to deal with him.
He smiled. “Would a little sherry be acceptable to you?”
She hesitated. “Uh, yes. Thank you. That would be lovely.”
There was no way that she was drinking that vile liquid. She was going to have to dispose of it somehow. A potted plant sat near the window. That will just have to do, but what about this man? Mr Mostyn had the drink poured in no time, bringing it to her. He handed it to her. Maybe I can reason with him. He doesn’t appear as drunk as I thought him to be. He was most definitely slurring his words earlier, but he looks to be in his right mind. Selina took a step back, inching closer towards the door.
“How are your parents?”
“Wonderful! We are visiting my mother’s sister at the moment–Aunt Dorothy. I believe that you know her. Dorothy Crauford.”
He pulled his face. “Yes. I have had the ... pleasure of meeting her. Mrs Mostyn keeps up with our acquaintances more than I do.”
“Aunt Dorothy was just saying the other day what an upright man you are, a good example to the youth. She greatly adm
ires you and believes that you can do no wrong.”
She was lying, of course, but Selina was grasping at straws. I should have never got myself involved in this! How did I think I would accomplish the feat of getting Mr Mostyn to behave in his drunken state?
“Your aunt said that about me?”
The man was incredulous. You have to make it more believable, Selina.
“Yes, Mr Mostyn. She commends you for raising such a wonderful daughter as Lavinia and would have it that every child has a father like you.”
Selina could see his chest puff out. “I could be encouraged to give advice to those having difficulties with their children.”
“That is precisely what Aunt Dorothy said! Are you psychic, Mr Mostyn?”
“No, of course not. I do not believe in such nonsense.”
“But I am sure that you have the gift for it.”
“Well, perhaps ...”
“I am sure that the dinner party was your idea as well? Am I right?”
He shook his head. “But I did wish for her to have one.”
“Do you hear what you are saying, Mr Mostyn. You must have somehow communicated with your daughter using your mind.”
“My mind?”
“Yes. I am sure that you already know that the dinner party will be a success, and that success will reflect on you as well.”
“Yes, it will be a great success. I must go and greet the guests.”
That was the last thing that she wished him to do.
“No, no, Mr Mostyn. Let Lavinia make you proud. I am sure that all the guests will be praising her hosting skills. You need only relax and let your daughter do her best. Speaking of which, I must be going–they will wonder where I have got to. My sister knew that I was coming to see you.”
Selina needed to throw that in, ensuring that the man knew that someone was aware of who she was with. Mr Mostyn was reluctant to let her go, but she did not give him much of a choice.
“Very well, my dear. Do make sure to send my regards to your family.”
“Of course, Mr Mostyn. I will inform them of your great hospitality. I apologise for not drinking this.”
She handed the drink back to him, rushing to the door as soon as he had taken the glass.
“Thank you again. Have a lovely evening.”
Selina opened the door, nearly falling out in her eagerness to escape. That was too close for comfort. What would I have done had he ... No, do not even think of it. You managed to accomplish what you set out to do, and that is all there is to it.
“Now, if this dinner would only start!”
Lavinia would never know of the service that Selina just did for her, and she preferred it that way. The woman would hate to be in her debt.
It took some time before everyone was settled at the dining table. Selina was seated far from Alex, a small mercy for her. He was sitting next to Lavinia, while another man that she did not recognise perched to her left. Selina could feel Alex’s eyes wandering down to where she sat, but she resolutely paid him no mind.
“Selina, did you see Simon?” Ophelia whispered. “I did not know that he was attending this dinner!”
No, she had not seen Simon, but she looked through the faces at the table. She spotted him looking sad and dejected two chairs away from Alex.
“I see him. Have you greeted him yet?”
Ophelia shook her head. “I suddenly find myself tongue tied! I do not know what to say.”
Selina chuckled. “A simple ‘good evening’ should suffice, do you not think so?”
“It is most easy for you to say so when you have thus far ignored the presence of the baronet. He has been trying to gain your attention these last few minutes, and you have not bothered to acknowledge him.”
“That is exactly what I wish, Phee. I will not interact with the man. Speak with Simon if you must, but do not expect me to concern myself with the baronet. He is doing perfectly well by Lavinia’s side.”
“And yet it is not Lavinia’s attention that he wishes to have. Why must you always be so stubborn, Selina?”
Selina put her soup spoon down, pushing the bowl away from her.
“Stubborn? Is it stubbornness to hold onto your self-respect? You wish for me to communicate with a man that made a fool of me, not only in front of our family, but whoever happened to listen to our conversation. You do recall that this took place last night? You were a witness to my humiliation.”
Ophelia followed suit by pushing her soup from her.
“Are you not overreacting, Selina?”
Selina looked to the side, her irritation rising. Had Alex somehow become a hero in Ophelia’s eyes? She had mentioned Simon saying something about her; he may have very well sung Alex’s praises to her, and now she was a part of his admirers.
“Selina, how is the soup?” Lavinia asked.
Bland and cold.
“Delicious. My compliments to the cook.”
“Does your cook know how to prepare such a soup?”
Selina frowned. What an odd question to ask.
“Yes, but the flavour is slightly different.”
Miles different. Mrs Albermarle and the cook back home were far better cooks than the Mostyn cook. Selina had just returned to her soup when her name was called again.
“Selina, what a lovely dress you had on last night. Did you have it made?”
“No, it was a dress that I have worn previously.”
Lavinia laughed. “Oh, that is rather frugal of you. I’m afraid that I must have a new dress for every occasion. It ensures that I will not be caught looking like anyone else.”
Selina returned to her soup, swallowing the liquid with some difficulty. Lavinia did not seem to be done with her questioning, for she called her again.
“When did you and your family last take a trip into London?”
“This past Season.”
“Oh, I go far more frequently than that!” Lavinia exclaimed.
What was Lavinia trying to prove by asking her these questions?
“You know,” Alex began, “I often find the need to wear my clothing more than once, just to make sure that I get my money’s worth out of them. And I’m not too keen on London. I only go there when I have to. Simon here makes most of my trips to London.”
He clasped his hand around Simon’s shoulder, startling him. Ophelia also seemed to jump in her seat before sheepishly looking down into her soup. The other guests did not seem particularly bothered by Lavinia’s line of questioning, but Alex had seen fit to come to her rescue. She wanted to shout that she didn’t need his help, but that would surely get her nowhere. It would probably paint her as an ungrateful person and he the hero. All that Selina could do was shovel more cold soup into her mouth.
“Miss Seymour,” Alex said, “have you sketched anything recently?”
Selina didn’t bother to look up as she answered him.
A Charming Lady for the Intriguing Baronet: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 14