Miss Moseley the Matchmaker

by McQueen, Caylen

  Molly rose to her feet when Lord Rocksavage entered, and she motioned for Augustine to do the same. “It is wonderful to see you again, Daniel!” Molly exclaimed. She stepped aside and motioned toward her cousin, who was blushing under the viscount's gaze. “This is my cousin, Augustine Moseley.”

  “A pleasure,” Lord Rocksavage said. Augustine bobbed a curtsy, then he took her hand and kissed it. “A pleasure indeed.”

  Her appearance was pleasing enough. The first thing he noticed was that she was quite short; the top of her head barely reached Molly's shoulder. Her diminutive size and pixie-shaped ears made her look a bit elfish. The second thing he noticed was the color of her hair, which was neither a muted auburn or a subtle strawberry. It was bright and vibrant and copper, not unlike a sunset. She was wearing a pale green gown, which perfectly complemented her sharp green eyes, though it was a bit low-cut for a woman of her age.

  “And it is pleasure to meet you as well, my lord. Really, it is!” When she smiled at him, he was treated to the sight of her apple cheeks.

  “Augustine is a lovely name, Miss Moseley,” Daniel said.

  “And Rocksavage is very unique. It makes you sound very strong... and a bit... savage.” Augustine punctuated her sentence with a giggle. “I am aware that Augustine is quite a mouthful. And my cousin is also a Miss Moseley, is she not? You may call me Aggie if you would like... to avoid any unnecessary confusion.”

  “I am not sure that would be entirely proper, Miss Moseley, considering that we have just met,” Lord Rocksavage countered. “However, if it becomes too confusing, I will refer to your cousin as Molly... since that is what I have called her throughout the five and twenty years of our acquaintance.”

  Augustine pouted at him, then she sunk into the nearest chair. “Well... suit yourself, my lord! However, I did not think we would have to be so formal.”

  Augustine started fidgeting with her teardrop necklace, which drew his eyes to her decolletage. Molly must have noticed where his eyes had landed, because she gave him a nudge. Together, they sat in the settee across from the flame-haired beauty, whose tongue flitted out to moisten her lips. Lord Rocksavage cleared his throat, distracting himself from his scandalous thoughts about the girl.

  “So, Miss Moseley,” he calmly addressed her, “I would certainly like to know more about you.”

  Augustine puckered her nose, not because his question was distasteful, but because she had sat on something that was destroying her comfort. She sprang from her chair and quickly discovered the culprit: she was sitting on a half-finished needlepoint. Augustine grabbed the needlepoint before she sat back down. “Is this yours, Molly?” she asked.

  “No, it belongs to Agatha,” Molly said, referring to her grandmother. Molly had been living with Agatha for the last five years, acting as a companion to the older woman.

  “I see. And it is just as well. I have an aversion to anything relating to needles. Sewing is such a waste of time!” Augustine tossed the needlepoint aside and crossed her arms; her petulant behavior had already raised Lord Rocksavage's brow. “I cannot imagine why anyone would take up sewing as a way to pass the time! It should only be necessary if you need to mend a flawed garment.”

  “You seem to have strong opinions, Miss Moseley,” Daniel noted.

  “Not really,” Augustine answered with a shrug, then quickly changed the subject. “Molly said you were a Corinthian, my lord. Is that how you would describe yourself?”

  He flashed an amused glance at Molly. “I... suppose.”

  “Have you ever boxed at Gentleman Jackson's?”

  “I am afraid I haven't had the pleasure.”

  Augustine's shoulders seemed to relax a bit. “Good. I turn up my nose at boxing! It is such a brutal sport!”

  “Once again, a strong opinion,” Lord Rocksavage commented.

  “Does that bother you, my lord?” She tilted her head as she studied him, and he thought she looked like an adorable little minx. “According to my mother, gentlemen do not appreciate a woman with strong opinions.”

  “On the contrary,” he disagreed, “I would not want a woman who is afraid to speak her mind. Now... enlighten me, Miss Moseley. I already know what you dislike. I would rather like to know what you do enjoy.”

  “Charades!” Augustine squealed.

  “Cha... rades?” Lord Rocksavage uneasily repeated. He turned in Molly's direction, but she would not meet his gaze. He wondered if she was embarrassed by her cousin's silly behavior. “You enjoy charades?”

  “You will oblige me, won't you?!” Augustine exclaimed, completely ignoring his question. She sprang to her feet and struck a precious pose. “From my nose I graciously pour... that taste you so adore... and when the last trickle from my depth's consumed, I will leave you wanting more!”

  Lord Rocksavage reclined on the settee, trying to hide any trace of annoyance from his face. “That is an easy one, Miss Moseley. You're a teapot.”

  “Precisely, my lord!” Augustine laid a hand on her hip, and shaped her other arm like a hook: her best impression of a teapot. “Are you ready for the next one?” When no one responded, she took it upon herself to continue. “From behind me you will see. On your nose, I will be. And when I--” When Mortimer nudged his way into the drawing room, Augustine lost her voice. She let out a squeal of delight and fell to her knees. “Mortimer! Oh my, it's Mortimer! You remember me, don't you?” Augustine crawled across the floor, in the direction of the dog, who did not look particularly happy to see her.

  “Goodness, Aggie, get to your feet!” Molly exclaimed. “Mortimer is a giant beast! He might tackle you!” And you are not making such a good impression on Daniel, she thought with a sigh.

  “I've missed you, Mortimer!” Aggie chased him all the way to the fireplace. When he sat, she flung her arms around his head, seizing him in an unwilling hug. Mortimer let out a whimper, but he let it happen. “You're such a handsome fellow, Mr. Mortimer! The handsomest dog in the world!” Aggie trilled.

  When Molly caught Lord Rocksavage's gaze, she thought about slinking under the table and hiding her face in shame. She had known him so long, she could guess what he might be thinking.

  Daniel leaned toward Molly and whispered, “Really? This is the perfect girl for me?!”

  “I...” Molly winced. After witnessing her cousin's childish behavior, there was nothing she could say in her defense.

  “How young is she?!” Lord Rocksavage hissed.

  “Nineteen.”

  “Nineteen?!” He grumbled into the palm of his hand, choosing a few words that were not meant for a lady's ears. “She's a bit young for me, wouldn't you say? She looks and acts like a child!” Fortunately, Augustine was too engrossed in Mortimer's absconded affection to pay any attention to their whispered conversation.

  “Augustine is... very...” Molly's voice trailed off as she probed her mind for the perfect word. “Free-spirited.”

  “Is that a nice way of saying she is silly?” Daniel asked. “She is quite possibly the silliest woman I have ever met! And believe me, I have met a great number of women!”

  “She has a lot of... zeal,” Molly said, “If she was your wife, I am sure there would never be a dull moment.”

  The prospect had him shaking his head. “Yes... imagine her as Lady Rocksavage. My wife would be crawling around the drawing room in front of polite company! I am sure my friends would think it was amusing, but--”

  “Quiet!” Molly silenced him. Augustine was glaring in their direction, which made her wonder if she overheard their discussion. “Aggie... why don't you get off the floor now, dearest? I wouldn't want you to ruin your pretty dress.”

  “But Mortimer is so enjoying my company!” When she kissed the top of his head, Mortimer did not look particularly pleased. “You know, I think he is the most enormous dog I have ever seen! Do you think you could put a saddle on him and ride him like a horse? He's practically large enough!”

  “Augustine, do you think you could take Mortimer
for a turn around the garden?” Molly suggested. “I believe he could use some exercise.”

  “Oh, I would love to!” Augustine leapt to her feet and tried to drag Mortimer to the door. He eventually followed, albeit a bit unhappily. “Would you like to accompany us, Lord Rocksavage?”

  Daniel turned his panicked gaze on Molly, who answered on his behalf. “Actually, Aggie... if you don't mind, there is an important matter we need to discuss. We will join you later, if time allows.”

  “Very well.” Augustine skipped to the door and motioned for Mortimer to follow. “Come on, Mortimer! We mustn't keep the bluebells waiting!”

  “Whatever you do, don't let him terrorize the flowers!” Molly called after her as she exited the drawing room. Then she turned to Daniel, who was regarding with her a sneer. “So... is it safe to assume you won't be continuing your romantic pursuit of my cousin?”

  “She is beautiful, to be sure,” Daniel said. “But she is too young, far too silly, and... I am not certain I care for her red hair.”

  “Really?! I happen to think her red hair is very beautiful!”

  “It is beautiful... on her,” Daniel agreed. “But I would rather not risk the possibility of fathering a son with flaming red hair.”

  “Perhaps, my lord, you need to be more specific about what sort of woman you are looking for!” Molly exclaimed. “How am I supposed to guess what woman would attract you?”

  Lord Rocksavage stared at the frayed collar of Molly's gown, which he had seen her wear on many occasions. She must have been poorer than he realized. I wish I could buy something nice for her, he thought, something beautiful, something worthy of her. He would have bought her anything she desired, if doing so was not inappropriate.

  “My preference is... dark hair,” he said, and his gaze flickered to Molly's dark brown tresses. “There is something about dark hair that gives a woman an air of mystery.”

  “I see.” Molly tried to maintain her poise, even as his eyes were burning into hers.

  “I would prefer a woman who was more reserved,” he continued, “I want someone who knows how to act like a lady. And really... age has nothing to do with it. When you were Augustine's age, you were the pinnacle of virtue and grace.”

  “I appreciate the compliment,” Molly said. As he described his perfect woman, her mind pored over a list of possible candidates.

  “You are still the pinnacle of virtue and grace, of course,” he added. “The woman I marry... I suppose I would want her to be a bit like...”

  When his voice trailed off, she had to press him further. “Like what, Daniel?”

  “Like you.” As he finished, he flashed a smile that made her heart tremble. “I would want my wife to be a bit like you.”

  Chapter Six

  “You look well, Lady Agatha,” Daniel complimented Molly's grandmother as he handed her into the carriage. “Your face is so full of color, I would swear you look half your age.”

  The old woman wrinkled her nose and glowered at him through slit-like eyes. “Taradiddle!” Agatha exclaimed. She tucked her cane under her arm and wagged an accusatory finger at him. “I look terrible! Do you know how old I am?!”

  Daniel exchanged concerned glances with Molly, who was sitting next to her grandmother in the seat across from him. “I haven't the slightest idea, Lady Agatha,” he nervously responded. “But if I was brave enough to guess, I would say you are roughly... sixty?”

  “Nonsense!” Agatha squawked. “Do not fill my head with lies, young man! I am eight and seventy, and my face wears a wrinkle for every year of my life! I will most likely die within the next few years.”

  “Grandmama!” Molly gasped. “You really shouldn't say such things! I hurts my heart to think of it!”

  “Well, it's true,” Agatha asserted. “I am old, old, OLD. When you're my age, death starts to sound like a welcome relief!”

  “You are not so old, Lady Agatha,” Daniel tried to defend Agatha against her self-effacing tongue.

  “I am ancient, young man!” Agatha rapped his knee with her cane. “And do not try to tell me otherwise!”

  “We are such short-lived creatures,” Molly said with a sigh. “Which is terribly sad. In childhood, you feel invincible. It feels like time will go on forever. When you learn of your imminent demise, it feels like a cruel joke!”

  The carriage lurched forward, setting them on course to their destination. They were en route to Lady Harleigh's estate, where they were to attend a card party. At first, Lord Rocksavage was reluctant to make an appearance, because he knew most of the attendees would be tittering old ladies and stiff-lipped spinsters. However, when Molly told him his next romantic prospect would be at the card party, he was ultimately swayed.

  Daniel leaned forward in his seat, moving as close to Molly as possible. “What can you tell me about her?” he whispered.

  “About Miss Elliot?” Molly answered in hushed tones. “Well... she will most likely be the youngest woman in the room, so it should not be too difficult to locate her.”

  A low groan rose from Lord Rocksavage's throat. Spending the afternoon awash in a sea of ancient dames was not particularly appealing, but he trusted Molly's judgment. “And what of her disposition? I hope I will not find her crawling across the floor, chasing after dogs?”

  Molly sighed, a bit peeved by his low opinion of her young cousin. Augustine might not have been on her best behavior, but Molly knew she was a good girl. “No, nothing like that. Miss Elliot is the definition of poise. She is very much like you, as a matter of fact.”

  “Very much like me?” Lord Rocksavage's eyebrow was curiously raised. “And how would you describe Miss Elliot and myself?”

  “She is reserved, kind, intellectual. She might consider herself a spinster, so expect her to be surprised by your interest.”

  “A spinster?!” Lord Rocksavage sharply repeated the word, as if he had uttered something foul. “How old is she?”

  “AHEM!” Agatha cleared her throat. “You need not whisper in my presence. Apart from being rude, it is also unnecessary. If you are saying something I am not meant to hear, you should say it in your normal voice. I am as deaf as I am blind. I cannot hear a thing, I assure you.”

  Molly patted her grandmother's hand, which was wrinkled and speckled with telltale spots of age. “My apologies, Gran. I suppose we were being rude.”

  Lord Rocksavage leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, ignoring the fact that Lady Agatha was sneering at him. He wanted to know more about Miss Elliot, but his present company made further questioning impossible.

  Several minutes later, they arrived at their destination. One of Lady Harleigh's handsome footmen assisted Agatha from the carriage. As the old woman scrambled to the earth, Daniel whispered to Molly, “Your grandmother is a bit more... cantankerous than I remember.”

  “She isn't so bad,” Molly insisted. “She's been in a great deal of pain, as of late. I feel sorry for her. I am sure it has put her in a rotten mood.”

  “Perhaps she should have stayed home?” Daniel suggested with a chuckle.

  “Perhaps...” as she spoke, there was a hint of irritation in Molly's response, “she does not get out much, and this is the only thing that gives her pleasure.”

  When they were out of the carriage, Daniel took Molly's arm and led her in the direction of the house. “I can see why she has chosen you as her companion. You are her staunch defender!”

  They followed Agatha and the footman to Lady Harleigh's manor and into the drawing room. Apparently, their arrival was fashionably late, because most of the card tables were already occupied. Lord Rocksavage pursed his lips and suppressed a moan. Everywhere he looked, he saw white hair, wiry gray tresses, bag-laden eyes and wrinkles. There wasn't a youthful face in sight, apart from his and Molly's. While Agatha reunited with her friends, Molly steered Lord Rocksavage to one of the emptier tables.

  “Miss Elliot,” Molly addressed an old woman who was sitting by herself. “Do you mind if we j
oin you?”

  Miss Elliot? Lord Rocksavage gave his eyes a rough rub, because he was sure he was seeing an illusion. Miss Elliot had to be in her sixties, not unlike the room's other occupants. He slowly turned in Molly's direction, hoping she would see the look of horror on his face.

  “You are more than welcome, dear,” Miss Elliot replied. Molly and Lord Rocksavage sat across from Miss Elliot, where they would apparently be partnered for a game of whist, assuming they could find a partner for the older woman sitting across from them.

  “Molly...” Lord Rocksavage hissed into her ear. “Molly, are you serious?! This is Miss Elliot?! The Miss Elliot with whom you thought to match me?!”

  Molly simply shrugged. She knew it was wicked to let him believe such a thing, but she could not resist the temptation to leave him in suspense. “Why is that so surprising, Daniel? Didn't you think Augustine was too young for you?”

  “Yes!” Daniel hissed. “But this woman is.... is...”

  Before he could finish his thought, a pale beauty appeared at Miss Elliot's side. Her ashen cheeks were so devoid of color, it was as if her skin had never seen a moment of sunlight. And yet her hair was as black as onyx, the color of a starless midnight. The contrast between her hair and skin was so stark, Lord Rocksavage's jaw dropped. Nevertheless, she was a unique beauty, and he could not tear his eyes away from her.

  “Auntie...” the pale-skinned woman addressed Miss Elliot. “Do you need a partner?”

  “Yes, my dear, I do.” Miss Elliot motioned toward the empty chair beside her. “Now that you are here, we can begin our game!”

  “Good afternoon, Miss Elliot,” Molly addressed the young woman, and Daniel breathed an enormous sigh of relief. “I am happy you could join us.”

  “Yes...” As she spoke, the younger Miss Elliot twiddled her thumbs. “Yes, it is always a pleasure to see you, Miss Moseley.” Her words were so quiet and her voice was so soft, it was difficult to understand what she was saying.