Miss Moseley the Matchmaker

by McQueen, Caylen

  Nevertheless, the presence of the new arrival returned the smile to Lord Rocksavage's lips. The new Miss Elliot was, at the most, five and twenty. It was a significant improvement.

  “Allow me to make introductions,” Molly began, “My lord... this is Annette Elliot and her great aunt, Margaret Elliot.”

  “A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” said the older Miss Elliot. However, the young woman at her side did not utter a word.

  “Likewise, Miss Elliot.”

  “And this, of course, is Lord Rocksavage,” said Molly, “I am sure you did not need me to tell you that.”

  “You make it sound as if they should know me already,” Daniel noted, “as if my reputation should precede me.”

  “Well, you do have a bit of a reputation,” Molly said. “There are not too many handsome, titled, eligible gentlemen in this area.” In a whisper, she added, “Not to mention, I already told Miss Elliot you would be coming...”

  As the older Miss Elliot dealt the cards, they were momentarily silenced. Lord Rocksavage held his cards in front of his face, trying to conceal his interest, but he kept peering at Annette Elliot over his ace of spades.

  “I hope I am not out of line, Miss Elliot, but... you are really quite pretty,” Lord Rocksavage said.

  “No,” Annette timidly responded. “I am not.”

  Daniel rapped his fingers against the table. He had known a few women who were incapable of accepting a compliment, but he had never had one brushed aside so coldly. “You have such bright blue eyes,” he made another attempt. “With your dark hair, they certainly stand out.”

  Annette Elliot did not make an effort to respond; her hands trembled as she gripped her cards. When her aunt gave her a nudge, she finally said, “My eyes are too pale.”

  “Are you a close companion of your aunt?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she squeaked a timid reply.

  “Do you enjoy playing cards?”

  “Sometimes,” the girl responded. Her face, which was once absent of color, was blushing furiously.

  Lord Rocksavage thought he heard purring, so he glanced under the table. Sure enough, he spotted the glowing eyes of a tabby cat. The animal was brushing its body against the younger Miss Elliot's leg. “Is that your cat, Miss Elliot?”

  “No...” Annette's response was as soft and light as a whisper.

  “The cat belongs to Lady Harleigh, my lord,” the older Miss Elliot took it upon herself to explain. “But our visits are quite frequent. I think Kipper has an affinity for my niece.”

  “I can certainly understand why.” Lord Rocksavage lowered his cards and smiled at Annette, who refused to look in his direction. If not for the fact that he enjoyed a challenge, he might have given up. Her walls would have to come down eventually. “Do you like cats, Miss Elliot?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “And dogs?”

  “Umm...” Annette glanced in her aunt's direction; her eyes begged the old woman to answer on her behalf.

  “Actually, my lord...” Margaret spoke up, “Annette was bitten by a dog when she was very young... unfortunately, the attack has had a lasting affect on her. My niece, the poor girl... I think she has an aversion to dogs.”

  “I... see.” Daniel sighed. Annette Elliot was quite possibly the most timid woman with whom he had ever attempted a conversation. Using his cards to block his mouth, he leaned toward Molly and whispered, “This seems a bit... strained.”

  “I did say she was reserved,” Molly said.

  “Reserved doesn't even begin to describe it,” Daniel whispered. “She is as timid as a newborn fawn!”

  With some reluctance, he turned his attention back to the ebony-haired beauty. He was momentarily transfixed by the sight of her long, inky eyelashes, and he decided it was worth another attempt.

  “Have you ever been to London, Miss Elliot?”

  “Umm...” Her shyness momentarily delayed her reply. “Not... quite.”

  “Not quite?!” he repeated with a chuckle. “That's a curious answer. Do you care to explain?”

  “Well... I...” Annette stared at her aunt, silently begging the older woman with her panicked eyes. “Auntie...” she whispered.

  “Annette and I visited London a few years ago, my lord,” the aunt explained. “However, our brief visit lasted less than a day. We were summoned back to Norfolk after Annette's father fell ill.”

  “I am sorry to hear that,” Lord Rocksavage replied. “How is your father now, Miss Elliot?”

  “He...” She kept her gaze on her aunt, “he is...”

  “He is doing well,” the older Miss Elliot finished. “His ailment, as it happens, was not as dire as we thought. In fact, I have reason to believe he was not ill at all! He simply did not want his youngest daughter to be away from him for so long.” The Miss Elliots exchanged smiles.

  Lord Rocksavage found himself suppressing yet another groan. An overprotective, overbearing father was the last thing he needed. He wondered if the father's coddling had anything to do with the daughter's timidity.

  Annette Elliot was even less suitable than Augustine Moseley! Perhaps Molly did not know him as well as he thought she did? It was a disappointing thought, to say the least.

  The conversation continued in a strained and stilted manner, further blackening his mood.

  To make matters worse, he and Molly were getting thoroughly trounced; they did not win a single game.

  Chapter Seven

  After the card party, they went directly home—Agatha required her afternoon nap. Lord Rocksavage insisted on staying at Molly's side, not because he desired her company, but because she was due for a tongue lashing.

  Arm-in-arm, they traveled through the garden. The previous night's rain was wreaking havoc on the hem of Molly's dress. The muddied ground had soiled it, and her slippers were beyond hope. Nevertheless, she could not deny Lord Rocksavage her company if he wanted it. Even if he was cross, she never wanted to leave his side.

  “Molly...” Daniel's deep voice held a note of irritation.

  “Hm?”

  “I think you know what I'm going to say...” Daniel began. “Augustine Moseley was a silly goose. Annette Elliot would not say boo to a goose! Do you know what I think?”

  Molly playfully tapped her chin. “Judging from your disapproving tone, perhaps you do not care for geese?”

  “I think you've gone mad!” Daniel finished. “They were pretty enough, to be sure... but I couldn't imagine myself with either of them! Surely you could think of someone who would be a more suitable match for me!”

  Myself? Molly's mind whispered an unspoken answer. “Miss Elliot's shyness is indicative of her kindness. If you had taken the time to get to know her...”

  “I would have loved to get to know her, if not for the fact that it was an impossible feat!” Daniel complained. “I could barely get two words out of the girl!”

  “She is shy,” Molly agreed. “But so am I.”

  “Her shyness has crippled her, the poor thing,” Daniel mused. “Did you see how she was looking to her aunt for guidance? She has no idea how to speak for herself!”

  As they ambled along the garden path, Daniel plucked a flower and placed it behind Molly's ear. Though she was touched by the gesture, she tried not to show it. She gently touched the flower, a white tulip, and forced a tremulous smile.

  “Can you think of no one else?”

  “Daniel...” Molly uttered his name with a sigh. “Perhaps your standards are unreasonably high?”

  “I don't think so,” he objected. “All I want is a companion with an agreeable face and a pleasant disposition. She does not have to be a beauty, as long as her personality is tolerable. A woman closer to Miss Elliot's age would also be preferable.”

  “Miss Elliot is seven and twenty,” Molly reported.

  “Really?” Daniel simultaneously flared his nostrils and hoisted an eyebrow, as if it was impossible to believe. “I thought she was a bit younger than that. She is a spinster
!”

  Molly peevishly crossed her arms. She was suddenly tempted to tear the flower from her hair and stomp it into the mud. Of course, she was too mild-mannered for an outburst such as that. “She is three years younger than I am!”

  “I... know. I am sorry if I was inconsiderate.”

  “So, do I understand you correctly? Augustine is too young... but Miss Elliot is too old?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “She was not too old. She was perfect.”

  “Truly?” Molly did not sound convinced. “You said she was a spinster!”

  “You have to admit, my description was... accurate,” Daniel said, which did nothing to smooth the crease between his friend's eyes. “But that does not mean she is too old. I would want a wife who is closer to my age than a child's.”

  Molly tugged her arm away from his grasp. “You are being too critical, Daniel. If you continue like this, you will never find a wife,” she cautioned him. “If you focus on finding flaws in every woman who crosses your path, you will find them all wanting!”

  Daniel halted in the middle of the path. When Molly turned in his direction, he lowered his voice and said, “Except for you.”

  Molly's hand flew to her hip. “What do you mean?”

  “I will find them all wanting... except for you. You are perfect.”

  Molly's eyes were lit with uncontainable elation. She clenched her fists and strengthened her resolve; she could not let him know how much he meant to her.

  “No one will ever measure up to you,” Lord Rocksavage said. “That is the reason why my search is so hopeless. I will never find another Molly Moseley.”

  “Then...” Molly took a deep breath before continuing, “perhaps you should marry me, Daniel?”

  There. Somehow, she managed to utter the impossible words. How would he react to such a bold suggestion, she wondered.

  “Nonsense!” Daniel chuckled, dashing her hopes with a single word. He tore the flower from Molly's ear and used it to tap her on the nose. “You don't want to get married. If you did, you would have leg-shackled yourself a long time ago! Besides...”

  When his voice trailed off, Molly shuddered to think of what he would say. “What is it, Daniel?” she pressed.

  “Well... you're like a sister to me, Momo,” he finished, further obliterating her hope. He tried to reach for her hands, but she held them behind her back.

  “True.” Though she agreed with him, her heart was screaming beneath her chest. “You are the brother I never had, Daniel.”

  The brother I never wanted, her mind finished.

  “I must confess, however, that I have always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” As he made his confession, Daniel brushed a knuckle across Molly's cheek. “Your skin is so soft.”

  “Daniel.” Molly's voice was cold as she murmured his name. She seized his wrist and tore it away from her cheek. “We have already established that I am like a sister to you. Say no more.”

  “True... that's true.” A slight sigh escaped him, and Molly wondered if he was disappointed. “You mean the world to me, Molly Moseley. I would never want to ruin our perfect friendship.”

  Chapter Eight

  Dear Madeline,

  It has been a few days since I have written; however, much has transpired since the last time I picked up my quill. Words cannot express how much I wish you were here with me, but I am sure you hear enough about my life in my letters.

  Since my last letter, I introduced Lord Rocksavage to two different women. His first prospect was Augustine Moseley, our beautiful cousin, but she was too young and too silly for him. His second prospect was Annette Elliot, who I believe you might have met on one or two occasions. She was always a shy woman; however, that shyness increases tenfold when she is in the presence of a man. Miss Elliot was so awkward around him, my heart went out to the girl! I have never been a wonderful conversationalist myself, but I don't think I ever struggled quite as much as she did.

  In the deepest, wickedest part of my heart, I wonder if I haven't been intentionally pairing him with women with whom I know he will not make a connection. He expressed that he had no interest in wooing a schoolgirl, and what did I do? I paired him with Augustine, who looks and acts like an adolescent. He expressed that he wanted a wife who was reserved, so I introduced him to the most reserved young woman of my acquaintance... and she was painfully shy. To be perfectly honest, I do not want him to marry anyone. I am terrified of finding the woman who is truly perfect for him, because I am terrified of losing my place in his heart. If he had someone to love, he would forget all about me.

  Sooner than later, I should realise my feelings for him are fruitless. The other day, Daniel said no one would measure up to me, so I bravely suggested myself as an option. When I told him he could marry me, he must have thought I was less than serious. He dismissed the prospect in a mocking way, as if I had made a ludicrous suggestion. Am I really so old and vile that I have no appeal whatsoever?

  Furthermore, he had the audacity to say I was like a sister to him. Can you believe it? If he cares for me as a sister, then I have no hope at all. He touched my cheek and commented on the softness of my skin, and for a moment, I swore he was going to kiss me. Why would he think of kissing me if I am a friend and sister to him?

  Perhaps I should change my way of thinking? If I think of Daniel as my brother, I can set these useless feelings aside. After all, I doubt that we would even suit. I am still unmarried because I have been in search of a sweeping romance. I need passion from a man (as if passion would even be possible in my life!) My high standards have never been met. Soullessly uttered niceties and obligatory compliments are not my idea of romance. I would need a man who would pour out his heart to me, who would make me believe he needs me more than he has ever needed anything. If I am being completely honest, I do not think Daniel is capable of romance. He is incapable of whispering sweet words that would sweep me off my feet.

  For this reason (apart from being a spinster and a sister to him), I should stop pining for him. Daniel will never be the man I want him to be, and I will certainly never be the woman of his dreams. I need to stop worrying about my own life and turn my attention to what I enjoy most: which is, of course, matchmaking. Pushing others toward their happy endings has always given me great satisfaction.

  When we were children, you used to read stories to me under the giant elm, and they always had a prominent romantic theme. Those were happier times, to be sure. You filled my head with enough nonsense to last a lifetime. If I am alone for the rest of my life, the fault lies with you! No stolid gentleman will ever live up to the men you depicted in your stories.

  This Saturday, Lord Rocksavage and I will be attending a ball at Dunglass Hall. After my first two failed attempts at finding him a decent match, I am sure he will be hesitant. However, I plan to introduce him to a particular young lady at the ball... and his faith in me will be restored. When he expressed an interest in finding a wife, Iris Crawford was actually the first young lady who came to mind. She is young, but not too young. She is beautiful, caring, kind and clever. I am sure Miss Crawford has many suitors, but none of them have been quite right for her.

  However, Daniel will be perfect for her.

  And Miss Crawford is truly the perfect woman for him. When he sees her, I know I will lose him forever.

  Do not be sad for me, Maddy. I will keep my chin up, and I will keep my heart to myself. Actually, I think I should be happy about this! If Daniel falls in love with someone else, perhaps I will finally be able to move on? I do not want to keep pining for a man who will never love me.

  What would I do without you, Maddy? I often feel like you are the only one with whom I can freely share my thoughts.

  With love, as always,

  Molly

  Chapter Nine

  Lord Rocksavage's apathetic gaze drifted around the room in search of a pretty face, but he saw nothing to draw his interest. The plainness of the young Norfolk women had him longing
for London.

  “I will be introducing you to someone this evening,” said Molly, who was standing beside him. “Another young lady.”

  “Oh, really?” Daniel answered in a mocking tone. “After your previous attempts, I shudder to think of what might stumble in our path. If my next prospect happens to have three arms and two noses, I would hardly be surprised.”

  Molly unfolded her fan and gently rapped him on the arm. “How insulting!”

  “Insulting?” Feigning pain, Daniel rubbed the portion of his forearm where Molly's fan made contact. “How could you be insulted?”

  “Your words are insulting to me and to Augustine and Miss Elliot! I have to defend them!” Molly crossed her arms. “Would you really put them in the same category as a woman with three arms? That's wicked and cruel and rude, and--”

  “My apologies, then.” Lord Rocksavage interrupted. He laid a hand over his heart in an attempt to express his sincerity. “I mean them no disrespect. However, I will say that neither young lady was the right woman for me.”

  “Miss Crawford will be different,” Molly assured him, scanning the room in search of Daniel's next prospect. Her eyes were drawn to the dance floor, where dozens of waltzing couples swirled around the room. Iris Crawford's blonde hair, as pale and bright as a distant star, had a tendency to stand out in a crowd. If she was dancing in the arms of another gentleman, she would have been easy enough to notice. However, there was no sign of her on the dance floor, or in any corner of the room.

  “So, where is this elusive Miss Crawford?” Daniel asked.

  “I don't see her. Not at the moment, at any rate,” Molly reported.

  “Perhaps she did not come?”

  “Perhaps.” Molly seized Lord Rocksavage's arm and proceeded to guide him around the room. They wove through clusters of matrons and dandies, past throngs of dashing bachelors and blushing debutantes.