“If I have heard it, then surely Selina will have heard it as well.”
Which is why he had avoided going to the Crauford house. It had not been so much about him as it was about her. He simply did not wish people to think wrongly of her. She may be intent upon painting him in a bad light, but he did not wish to do the same for her. He couldn’t deny that he was desperate to see her again, to hear her voice and have her within touching distance, even if it were just to kiss her hand.
Many a time he had been for a walk and upon finding himself heading in her direction forced his body and mind to turn away. Alex had to satisfy himself with hearing news of her from Thomas who was a regular visitor to the house. What had bothered him to distraction was Willoughby’s visit to the house. He had apparently been there for Selina.
“But the Selina I know will never accept him.”
At least he hoped so. There was no telling what Mrs Crauford could do when she put her mind to it, and he could bet his last penny that she had come across the rumours besmirching her niece’s reputation.
“She likely organised the dinner in the hopes of saving her niece from humiliation.”
What would she say if he were to formally request to court Selina?
“But Selina would need to be willing to do so, and I do not know where I stand with her.”
His last meeting with her had seemed hopeful. She had neither insulted him or chased him away.
“Perhaps she realises that she has made a mistake. But what if she was merely showing her gratitude and it has nothing to do with her feelings about me?”
What did Selina feel for him? There were moments that he could see the Selina he had met by the river, but more so she had been a woman bent upon pushing him away. And he had made his interest clear to her on several occasions.
“I may have to give up hope ever seeing the Selina that grabbed my attention from the moment I laid eyes on her.”
She had unknowingly grabbed at his heart as well, but it wasn’t something that he felt the need to remind himself of. If he had to let go of any notion of being with her, then he needed to loosen her grip on him.
“The worst thing is that she was not trying to capture me, but she caught me all the same.”
Now he needed her to release him. The question was: how could that happen when it was his own heart that refused to do so?
Selina gave herself a brief look over in the mirror before heading downstairs. Mr Willoughby had just arrived, and she knew that her aunt would not be happy about her prolonging the meeting between them.
“I look too pretty, and that is not to say that I am being vain. I simply do not want him to have any ideas about me, and as he is a visual man, I fear that he will find me becoming and start arranging a wedding before I have even said ‘I do’.
And knowing her aunt, she would assist him in doing so.
“Hopefully, the way that I have chosen to wear my hair will prove to him how unsuitable I am for him.”
Instead of the carefully-crafted hairstyle of the day, her waist-length hair was loose and slightly wild around her head. It was a stark contrast against the white of her dress and would likely earn her a scolding once Willoughby had left, but it was a chance she was willing to take.
“Perhaps my wild appearance will deter him from any thoughts of matrimony in his head. If indeed he has any.”
But if he was not here with the idea of a match, why would he wish to come? Willoughby did not strike her as a man who did anything without careful thought to it.
She entered the parlour, resisting the urge to curl her lips at the sight of the horrid man himself. How anyone can stand him, I do not know. Just the sight of him was enough to make her blood boil. He turned around as if sensing that she was there, widening her eyes as he took in her appearance. Her family also stopped their chitter-chatter and stared at her, the whites of their eyes standing out.
“Selina, dear ...” her mother began and helplessly shrugged her shoulders.
“You look charming, Miss Seymour,” Mr Willoughby commented. “Quite like the fairy princess if I might say so. One would think that you just walked out of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream merely moments before.”
This was not at all what she had expected to hear. In fact, she was taken aback and appalled that her plan to repel him had only resulted in gaining his approval. Her aunt lifted her eyebrow, waiting for her to say something in return.
“Well, uh, th-thank you, Mr Willoughby.”
The man nodded and continued to speak, his voice loud in the comfortably small room. I would much rather we had entertained him in the drawing room instead of Aunt Dorothy’s parlour.
“Red hair can often seem like a curse, but it is rather becoming on you. Thank heavens you decided against that monstrosity of a gold dress. That was quite a faux pas, but as it was only I in attendance that evening, you got off relatively lightly.”
There is the man that I have unfortunately come to know. I was beginning to think that he had turned over a new leaf! This man is obviously in love with the sound of his own voice. As he droned on about fashion, himself, and his opinions, she struggled to keep track of the conversation.
Selina found her thoughts drifting to a man unlike any other. One who, for all of his flaws, was miles better than the self-puffery of the man before her. The sound of her name being called pulled her from her thoughts. She blinked once, twice, before focusing her gaze on who she supposed was calling her.
“Dear, Mr Willoughby asked you a question,” her mother said. “Kindly answer him.”
What had they been talking about?! Her mind scrambled as she attempted to trace the conversation, but she was hitting at a blank. Just say something, anything!
“Oh, uh ...” her voice trailed off.
A knock at the door took the attention off her as a servant entered the room.
“Dinner is served,” the maid said, curtsying.
“Thank you, Beth,” Aunt Dorothy said. She turned to them. “Shall we?”
Thank goodness! I didn’t have a single appropriate word to say to him. They left the intimate setting of the parlour for the dining room, resisting a pulled face as she was paired off with Willoughby. Her hand lightly rested on his forearm as they entered the room, quickly pulling away and taking her seat as they reached the table.
“No, Selina,” her aunt said. “You are to sit here, beside Mr Willoughby.”
Selina begrudgingly stood up, slowly moving to the seat her aunt had designated as hers. Trust Aunt Dorothy to enforce such a thing. Willoughby was not her guest, and she had absolutely nothing in common with him. But as they are trying to arrange a suitable marriage for me, I cannot be surprised, can I?
“I believe that you will be most pleased with the menu, Mr Willoughby!” her aunt exclaimed. “Our cook has spared nothing for this meal.”
This had to be a white lie as Mrs Albermarle had informed her that their pantry stock was dwindling. What on earth had she cooked?
“The proof is in the tasting, Mrs Crauford. However, if you have taken my previous words to heart, then I very well should enjoy this meal. How good of you it was to invite me once more!”
Selina glanced sharply at her aunt. Had her aunt not said that Willoughby had practically invited himself? Two pink spots appeared on her aunt’s cheeks like two beacons of light exposing her lie.
“Do not mention it, Mr Willoughby. We had so enjoyed your presence the other evening, I thought it right to invite you once more.”
Aunt Dorothy is more devious than I thought! But as she was clearly embarrassed about being caught out, Selina decided not to speak of it.
“Many hosts have told me that I make an excellent guest. I was not surprised when you invited me once more.”
Their ears were spared when the first course was served. As the soup was carefully placed before him, everyone seemed to hold their breath as he took his first spoonful. He seemed thoughtful as he swallowed, smacking his tongue agai
nst his palate and looking heavenward. Aunt Dorothy was the first to lose her patience.
“Mr Willoughby? Is the soup to your liking?”
He pursed his lips, and Selina braced herself for the complaint that would soon follow. Only, he didn’t complain, much to the amazement of all at the table.
“I always say that I must give a well-deserved compliment when it is due.”
They waited for him to continue, but he took another spoonful, and then another. Selina realised that he was not going to expand upon his comment. I suppose that is his way of complimenting the food. Conversation flowed as the meal progressed with Selina putting in a word or two when directly spoken to. She had no desire to involve herself in their conversation which was mostly about Willoughby and his expertise in countless topics and activities.
One would think that he was older than his years of twenty and seven by the way he went on about his experiences. More than once he had brushed off an opinion given by her father, which only served to cement the foolishness of their guest in her mind. How anyone can argue with a man as learned as my father must be touched in their upper works! How different Alex is to this man. I would much rather marry him than Willoughby!
Selina paused as she realised the implications of her thoughts. Marry Alex? But he is just like the rest of his kind! But was he? Thus far he had not exhibited any signs that she had attributed to him since finding out about his title. Perhaps I have been wrong all this time! But he still lied to me! And there is still that situation about Jane. However, deep down within her, she knew that Alex would have never done such a thing. He seems too good and kind to do such a thing. Why did he not inform me about his title when I had first met him? Much would have been avoided if he had but been upfront with me from the beginning. But would they have been? If he had revealed himself, she might have taken her leave of his company, not wishing to converse with a titled man. But then I would never have found out about the person that he indeed is, sans the title. Her father had always told her that first impressions are the most important, and if that were true, then Alex was truly a good man whom she had wrongly accused. A sinking feeling started in the pit of her stomach and quickly spread throughout her body until she felt as though she had ingested a large amount of lead. Selina was abruptly brought out of her self-pity by the mention of a familiar name.
“You do all know Sir Russell, I presume?” Willoughby asked.
“Yes,” her mother answered. “He is the baronet that lives on the property adjacent to this one. We were at his ball several weeks ago. A lavish affair, really.”
“Good, you know of him. I do so hate having to explain a certain person when I have information to share.”
Selina wished that he would just get on with it. What could he possibly have to say about Alex?
“I do believe that he will be one of the first of the area to marry. Which I find hardly surprising as he was spotted about town with Miss Mostyn on his arm. Wonderful woman, really. Sir Russell is a lucky man.”
She felt as though the breath had been brutally knocked out of her. Alex and Lavinia? Why? They hardly matched each other! What could he possibly see in her?
“I had the pleasure of meeting her once, and I must say that I was impressed by her poise and grace. Women would do well to imitate her.”
He finished this off with a meaningful look in her direction. Was he comparing her to Lavinia? She mentally shrugged it off, not concerned about it. Just the image of Alex being with Lavinia and possibly marrying her made it hard for her to breathe. She tried to draw air into her lungs, but she only succeeded in coughing. They all turned to look at her, a mixture of concern and mild irritation being directed at her.
“Dear, are you all right?” her mother asked.
I have to leave this table, and I must do it now. I cannot stand another minute of this conversation. She quickly stood up, placing her hands on the table as she fought her dizziness. She shut her eyes and focused on the words she needed to say. Slowly she opened them and fixed her gaze on the table.
“If you would please excuse me, I find that I am suddenly ill.”
Willoughby looked appalled, as though she was about to fall on him any minute.
“If you must, Miss Seymour. We would not wish to keep you when you are obviously ...” he pulled his face. “Unwell.”
Selina looked to her aunt who kept on looking back and forth between her and Willoughby. She must think that my chances of a match have just been ruined.
“Uh, yes. Lie down if you must, Selina.”
The ‘if you must’ was said with enough feeling to indicate that her aunt was not happy about this and possibly believed that she was faking her illness. Selina added a little stumble for good measure, clutching her head with a moan. Her mother got up quickly and went to her, placing her arm around Selina’s waist.
“You look quite ill, my dear. Come, I’ll help you to your bedroom. It must be the after-effects of the fall in the river.”
The last thing that she wanted was to have her mother accompany her to her bedroom, especially when that was not her immediate destination. She fully intended to go to the kitchen and speak to Mrs Albermarle about this. If anyone had heard about such a rumour, she had.
“No, Mama. That is quite all right. I will manage on my own. Please do not leave the dinner on account of me.”
“Yes, Charlotte,” Aunt Dorothy said. “Do sit down.”
Her mother gave her a little squeeze and returned to her seat, her eyes still worried for her.
“I bid you a good night, Mr Willoughby.”
After a half-hearted ‘good night’ by him, she left the room through which they had entered, but she made a detour and headed in the direction of the warm and cosy kitchen. Perhaps a sweet cup of tea would calm her down and make her see things in a better light. But what better light could it be when Alex may very well be getting married to that wretched girl?!
The knot in her belly increased as she thought about the two of them settling down and having children running around the estate. I have no one else to blame but myself. It was my foolishness that prevented me from getting to know him as I should have. For goodness sake, the man had pursued me! And I turned him down with insults each and every time. And now I have lost him. Tears threatened to spill, but she sniffed them back, blinking rapidly. It wouldn’t do for Mrs Albermarle to see how affected she was by the news.
Selina entered the kitchen with a heavy heart, not bothering to see where Mrs Albermarle was. She pulled up a chair and sat down heavily, sighing as she did so.
“That is a mighty sigh,” Mrs Albermarle said from behind her. “Shouldn’t you be in the dining room, Selina?”
“Oh, Mrs Albermarle! I could no longer stand being in the company of that man!”
The cook chuckled. “I do not blame you. The man’s character leaves much to be desired.”
“And that’s putting it mildly,” Selina added.
“Was that sigh meant for him, or someone else?”
“Both. Mrs Albermarle, I was wondering if you would tell me a bit about Sir Russell’s background?”
She hoped that the woman wouldn’t read too much into it, but judging by her raised eyebrows, she was fairly curious about the question.
“Why would you wish to know anything about Alexander?”
She wasn’t yet prepared to expose her feelings, so she looked for the next best reason.
“Well, I just found out that he may be marrying Lavinia Mostyn, so I am interested to know if they would make a good match. It is just that they are so different from one another. ’Tis hard to see them as a couple.”
A Charming Lady for the Intriguing Baronet: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 23