Chapter Six #2
“Oh!” Miss Thompson beamed, as if she were a girl who had always thought herself plain and had just discovered that she was a beauty. “It’s beautiful. But … are you sure you want to lend it to me? What if I spill something on it at dinner?”
“Don’t give that another thought. Keep this during your stay and wear it as often as you like.”
“Thank you, Miss Taylor.” Miss Thompson stole another look in the mirror and couldn’t hide her smile. “I cannot tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“It is my pleasure. We have both been governesses, after all. There is a kind of sisterhood in that. And sisters often share a great many things.”
They exchanged a parting hug. How nice it was, Selena thought after Miss Thompson had left the room, to have such an amiable young woman in the house, one who had a similar history. It might help Selena to miss her sisters a bit less.
*
When Selena entered the drawing room for before-dinner cocktails, everyone was already gathered except Miss Thompson. Although the curtains were drawn, the storm audibly raged outside.
“Lovely weather,” joked Mr. Davis, which elicited a laugh from Mrs. Hillman.
“How glad I am,” proclaimed Miss Goodwin, “to be inside this lovely house, where blazing fires make everything so cozy and comfortable.”
As Selena accepted a drink from a footman’s tray, she snuck a glance at Dr. Scott, who stood alone with his drink by the hearth.
He was as formally dressed as the other gentlemen, in a tailcoat with a white waistcoat and tie.
So, Wells had managed to find proper evening attire for the doctor.
How wonderful he looked in it! With that scar on his forehead, Dr. Scott reminded her of a handsome pirate—the endearing, redeemable sort of pirate like the one in her favorite adventure novels by Pryor Corbett.
As if aware of her notice of him, the doctor turned, and their gazes collided. Selena felt a strange fluttering in her insides. His brows lifted, and a glimmer lit his eyes. Was he responding to the way she looked?
She had taken extra care with her appearance tonight, making sure her hair was attractively dressed.
She had chosen her green velvet gown because she’d been told it brought out the green in her eyes.
But she hadn’t done so with Dr. Scott in mind.
She had just wanted to look her best for Christmas Eve …
hadn’t she? That was what she told herself, anyway.
Self-conscious to have been caught staring, Selena averted her gaze.
She wondered if Dr. Scott had given any thought to their awkward encounter in Mr. Clarke’s room.
Had he really blundered into the wrong room by mistake?
Or was he also on the lookout for the money?
Had he noticed how flustered she had been, while in his company? She hoped not.
Selena couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him.
But his medical practice was in Bath. She was the heir to Darkmoor Park and ran a school here.
She would never move, and she was not looking for a relationship with a man.
Even if she had been, he was the kind of person she was always warning herself to be wary of.
She had learned that people often used their good looks and charisma to gain one’s trust before betraying it.
Her heart still hurt every time she recalled the way Jerome Withers had cruelly deceived her at age twenty, a story so mortifying she’d never shared it with anyone, not even her sisters.
Her father had been ruined by a silver-tongued devil who had persuaded him to invest his entire fortune in a risky business scheme, only to disappear when the venture had gone bad.
And Selena was still bitter about what had happened two years ago at Thorndale Manor.
Although no romantic attraction had been involved, the person who had betrayed her and Athena and had nearly cost them their lives had also been good-looking and had their own kind of charm.
Was Dr. Scott equally untrustworthy? It was too soon to tell.
But there was something about him that felt a bit—off.
He’d been so reserved and distracted ever since he’d arrived.
Once or twice, she’d caught him positively glowering.
She suspected he was hiding something. Just in case, she must try to maintain a distance between them.
Although, she admitted inwardly, that might be difficult because despite herself, some inexplicable fascination was drawing her to him like a magnet.
Her musings were diverted when Miss Thompson entered the drawing room, looking resplendent in Selena’s borrowed gown.
Mrs. Whitlock wrinkled her nose and said, “Dear lord, Miss Thompson, where did you get that dress? It makes you look twelve years old.”
Miss Thompson froze and blushed to the roots of her dark hair. Selena winced at the remark, which was so typical of Mrs. Whitlock—and so totally unfounded. She was about to rush to Miss Thompson’s defense, but Dr. Scott got there first.
“It’s a beautiful gown, Miss Thompson,” he said, giving the young lady a warm smile. “And you look well in it.”
Colonel Blackwood darted Mrs. Whitlock a withering glare and said in a lowered tone, “Really, ma’am, you could be more kind.”
Mrs. Whitlock merely shrugged as she sipped her drink. “I only say what I think, Colonel, which is more than most people do. I would wager that everyone in this room is hiding something and working hard to hold their tongue, so as not to give their true thoughts away.”
The room went deadly quiet. If there had ever been any validity to the phrase about hearing a pin drop, Selena thought, this moment was the proof of it. Everyone except Mrs. Whitlock seemed to be staring at the floor or anywhere but at each other.
Miss Goodwin broke the silence. “Well, Mrs. Whitlock, you certainly do have a way with words.”
Brittle laughter rippled around the room.
Conversations began again. Selena took Miss Thompson by the arm and walked her the rest of the way into the chamber.
“That woman doesn’t have a kind bone in her body,” Selena said under her breath as she motioned to Sam to bring over the drinks tray.
“I think it brings her pleasure to tear other people down. You look very nice. And I’m not just saying that because you’re wearing my dress. ”
Miss Thompson’s features still seemed to be plagued by doubt, and a tear pooled in one of her eyes. “Thank goodness I chose the plainer frock and not the teal velvet.”
They shared a laugh at that.
Christmas Eve dinner followed, a delicious repast of roast beef and Yorkshire puddings with side dishes of stewed carrots and turnips. A chocolate cake was served for pudding with a platter of fruits, nuts, and cheeses.
Afterwards, the group made their way to the music room, where Miss Thompson, as promised, took a seat at the grand pianoforte to play Christmas carols. Everyone gathered around the instrument to sing except for Mrs. Whitlock, who sat in a nearby chair, took out her knitting, and began to work.
Miss Thompson played with tremendous skill and grace.
Selena, who was standing close by the instrument, noted that the young lady also a possessed a lovely soprano voice—another talent that, perhaps, had been honed by that early music master but which she had been obliged to hide from her contemptuous employer.
At first, Selena felt ill at ease singing Christmas carols.
It seemed disrespectful to indulge in such a cheerful pursuit when a member of their party had died that very morning.
Mrs. Hillman, whose eyes teared up and who sniffed several times, appeared to share Selena’s discomfort.
But the others, most of whom hadn’t known Mr. Clarke well or, in the case of Dr. Scott, had never even met him, all sang with enthusiasm, tempered by only an occasional, tentative half-smile.
They had all agreed to “go on,” Selena reminded herself.
Perhaps it was important—and healthy—to find some joy amidst the sadness, and she was determined to comply.
Mrs. Whitlock was the only person not singing.
Selena noticed the woman surreptitiously stowing a small vial in her knitting bag and wondered what that was about.
The next time Selena glanced that way, Mrs. Whitlock was fast asleep.
Leave it to her, Selena thought, to miss Miss Thompson’s performance, and the party’s enjoyment of it.
When the first song ended, Dr. Scott crossed to stand beside Selena. “You look lovely tonight,” he said softly—the first words he had spoken directly to her all evening. “Your gown matches your eyes.”
Selena felt her face grow warm. “Thank you, Doctor. You look very nice yourself. I’m glad they were able to find you a suit that fits.”
“Your butler wears the same size I do. This suit is one of his spares. One of your maids kindly let down the cuffs for me.”
“That’s funny.” Selena’s senses buzzed at his nearness. “Miss Thompson spilled ink on her dress, so I loaned her one of mine. By some miracle, it also fit—except for the length.”
“Ah.” He smiled. “Her gown is yours. I wondered.”
Miss Thompson began playing “Joy to the World,” and as they sang, Selena couldn’t help but be conscious of Dr. Scott’s proximity.
He had a lovely tenor voice. The warm, woodsy fragrance of his cologne, which held notes of sandalwood and bergamot, made it hard for Selena to recall the words to the song.
As they moved on to “Silent Night” and “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen,” Selena found herself wishing for a moment alone with Dr. Scott so they could chat in private.
She wanted to find out whether or not he thought as she did that there might be hidden treasure at Darkmoor Park.
If only the weather were clear tomorrow, perhaps she could arrange to have a path cleared and invite Dr. Scott to take a stroll on the grounds.