Chapter 12
The leather cover of Mrs. Dale’s Compendium of Flowers must have borne the imprints of Selina’s fingertips by now; she was gripping it so hard as she walked away from the manor.
Through the walled gardens, winter gardens, ornamental gardens, and lawned gardens she marched, no real destination in her mind. The walking mattered, not where. She would walk all the way back to London if that was how long it took to clear her mind of Philip and his kiss.
A rickety wooden gate put her on a dirt path that snaked through an orchard. Through the twisting trunks of apple trees, she glimpsed the glitter of a lake.
Shall I just throw myself in and see if the cold shock can’t jolt me out of this stupor?
It was a tempting idea.
A cool breeze swept across the shimmering water and toyed with the loose strands of her hair, the light brush of it tempering the heat in her face. So long as she didn’t imagine that the sweet caress was Philip’s fingertips or the flutter of his lips, maybe she would be able to calm down.
The smooth top of a large, flat rock called to her. An ideal place to perch awhile and rid herself of improper thoughts.
“Where was I?” she muttered, flipping through the pages of the flower book.
She had been reading about orchids before Philip had interrupted her. Bee orchids. Beautiful, sneaky flowers that mimicked the shape of the bees they wanted to draw to them.
Am I no better than a bee, drawn by a handsome face?
She groaned and slammed the book shut. It was no good. She would not be able to concentrate on a single word or illustration, not when everything kept sending her mind back to him.
“Why do I care if I must share him? Why do I care if I am not the only one?” she mumbled to the wind.
As Mary had alluded, most men weren’t faithful, and Philip was far more handsome and enticing than most men. Of course he wasn’t faithful. Of course he drew ladies to him, and they were helpless to resist his mysterious charm.
“If I had risked my life for my country for years, I probably wouldn’t care much for society’s rules either. I would want to enjoy myself however I pleased,” she tried to reason with herself, to ease the tension in her chest. The part of her that strained with an almost pre-emptive jealousy.
I’ve only just met the man, for goodness’ sake!
She put her hand to her chest and rubbed soothing circles, though it didn’t do much good.
The truth was, she should never have kissed him. The kiss was responsible for all of this confusion and unease. If she had kept her distance, kept herself detached from the idea of him, she wouldn’t be flapping and fretting now.
“This is your fault for being a stupid bee, Selina,” she scolded quietly, shaking her head. “If you hadn’t been so greedy as to try the nectar, you wouldn’t be bothered about sharing it or who has been there before you… and might be after you. You would be buzzing about, content not to know about—”
“Ahoy there!”
She clamped her lips shut, burning with embarrassment. Shoulders up in a flinch, she whipped around to find two familiar figures waving at her from the orchard.
“Melody?!” she shrieked and jumped off the rock.
The third of their trio, Melody Wynn, stood a head taller than the other two, with raven-black hair that she rarely curled or styled, and spectacles that were forever slipping down her freckled nose.
Willowy of figure, she often blamed her studies, too engrossed in her passion for the natural world to remember to eat.
“I thought you’d enjoy the surprise!” Lizzy called out, the two approaching the lakeshore.
“How did you know I was here?” Selina asked, hesitant. “Has news reached the ton so swiftly?”
Melody tipped her head toward Lizzy. “She sent a rider. I came as soon as I could.”
“We are having a house party!” Lizzy said with a grin that didn’t quite reach her anxious eyes. “Naturally, I invited Melody first, but other invitations have been sent out.”
Selina’s jaw dropped. “You did what?”
“It was before I knew you weren’t altogether happy with the arrangement.” Lizzy had the decency to look somewhat chagrined, an unusual expression on her ordinarily confident face.
“She got overexcited,” Melody translated.
Lizzy nodded. “I confess it. I’m sorry, Selina. If you like, I can send another rider to fetch all the invitations back, though there is not much I can do about the gossip.”
Closing her eyes and feeling that comforting breeze on her face, Selina drew in a few deep breaths to cool her temper. Why could Lizzy not think before she acted?
Your grandmother has indulged you; that is why.
She took another moment to gather herself.
“No, no, that would only make it worse,” she said at last. “A house party will be a welcome distraction.”
Lizzy skipped forward and weaved her arm through Selina’s. “You are not cross with me?”
“Oh, I am furious, but that will not change anything,” Selina replied wryly.
“I really am sorry.”
“I know you are.”
The very fact that Lizzy had used the word ‘sorry’ was a testament to that. She did not apologize often, preferring to rationalize her way out of wrongdoing rather than admit to it.
“What I would like to know is who sent that letter?” Melody said, taking Selina’s other arm.
The three women wandered along the lapping lakeshore to a broader cluster of natural seats.
Selina shrugged. “I have not given it much thought. There have been too many other things to contend with.”
“Who would dare to matchmake you with Lizzy’s brother?” Melody pressed, with a glance at Lizzy. “No offense intended.”
“None taken,” Lizzy replied. “I wouldn’t wish him on anyone. No offense, Selina.”
“Some taken,” Selina said with a grimace.
The three women had been introduced to the mysterious matchmaking book club at the ‘sisterhood’ tea party a year ago. Rather, that was where they had first heard of it in hushed whispers.
“Apparently, they decide who would be your best match, and they conspire to make it a reality,” one young lady had said, passing the message on. “They never do it the same way twice, or so I am told.”
“My sister was matched with Lord Winstead, and she married him, so there must be some merit to it,” another young lady had whispered.
Of course, that had led the gaggle of pre-debutantes to wonder who they might be matched with if they were chosen by the ‘matchmaking book club.’
Selina, however, had prayed even then that she would not be matched with anyone. When she had finally debuted, she had dreaded the very idea of someone choosing for her, hoping to escape the clandestine group’s notice.
Alas, that had not come to pass.
“Someone must know who they are,” Melody reasoned.
“Why is it a book club?” Selina countered. “Where do the books come into it?”
Lizzy rolled her eyes. “Were neither of you listening at that tea party? That is where they get their ideas for the matchmaking. Romance novels.”
“Well, there is nothing romantic about sending a letter that was supposedly written by the Duke to my house and throwing me soundly into this mess,” Selina scoffed. “Do they think they are authors of romance novels, whoever these matchmakers are?”
“Was it well written?” Melody asked.
“What?”
“The letter. Was it well written?” Intellectual curiosity animated Melody’s voice.
Selina pulled a face. “I… suppose so. I did not believe it was actually from the Duke, but… it rather resembled something from the novels we read.”
“Do you think it is also because they have a book of names of people they wish to matchmake?” Melody theorized. “All of our names and all of the eligible bachelors’?”
“Perhaps,” Lizzy agreed. “A book club with a book of their own.”
Selina sighed as they reached the rocks and sat down. “I doubt we will ever know who is responsible. It is the height of secrecy. Although it must have something to do with those tea parties. That is where they find us, name us, choose us, decide for us.”
“Whoever it is, I am not sure I like it,” Lizzy said, to Selina’s surprise. “Obviously, I am delighted that you will soon be my sister, Selina, but they have turned your life entirely upside down. I do not think I want that happening to mine. I rather like my life as it is.”
“As did I,” Selina muttered.
Although what had she truly had to be excited about? Her life had been comfortable and predictable. Was that why the matchmakers had chosen her?
She shuddered to think what their criteria might be.
“Anyway, it has only quickened the inevitable,” she added, resting back on her elbows, her face turned up to the sunshine.
“I would have had to get married to someone I did not know and did not want anyway. The only difference is that it would have been my father’s choice instead of the matchmakers’ choice. ”
“Or you might have met someone of your own accord,” Melody pointed out. “That has been taken from you. It is an injustice.”
Selina released a laugh of self-mockery. “Would I really have met someone of my own accord, though? That would have meant leaving the wall. Indeed, that is why my father chose the Marquess of Ramsbury for me—because I refused to leave the wall.”
“Someone might have come to the wall to find himself a flower,” Melody said, uncharacteristically poetic.
Selina shook her head and closed her eyes to the summery warmth. “At least this way, I am in the same place as one of my best friends.”
“Until the matchmakers target her,” Melody said.
A dramatic retch sounded from Lizzy. “Don’t say that! Why would you say that? If there is a pattern here, they would match me with someone utterly boring.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Selina cracked one eye open.
“Well, you are amusing and shy in public, so they put you with someone who is… neither shy nor amusing. Opposites.”
Selina closed her eye again, satisfied there was no insult. “Oh, I see.”
He is more entertaining than you let on.
She kept that to herself, like a secret only she knew.
There was a lot about Philip that Lizzy had told her that had not yet revealed itself to be true. He wasn’t cold unless she was pulling away from him or him away from her. He wasn’t short-tempered. He wasn’t a brute… unless trapping her between the door and his body counted.
Maybe Lizzy had not had much time to get to know her brother, seeing as he had been fighting abroad for most of her life.
“What do you think of Lizzy’s brother?” Melody asked.
That jolted Selina out of her reverie of kisses in the library. She bounced off her elbows like she had been stung.
“Isn’t he just awful?” Lizzy said, a glint of mischief in her eyes.
Pretending to flick away some dust from her skirts, Selina watched the tiny wavelets lapping at the gravel shore. Had it suddenly got hotter? She rubbed the back of her neck and fanned her face with her other hand.
Her friends were looking at her expectantly. There would be no escape from this interrogation.
“He is… still in need of research,” she said.
Melody nodded in appreciation. “A wise sentiment.” She paused. “By human standards, he is a fine example of the male species. Taller than most, and broad-shouldered, very muscular—that is beneficial to his success as a mate, for females look for qualities like protection and capability.”
Her tone was matter-of-fact. Her face, on the other hand, had turned quite red.
“Goodness, this is much easier when discussing lesser animals or plants,” she said, flustered.
The three women laughed together, Selina secretly grateful to have the attention diverted away from her own blushes.
“Physically, you are not wrong,” she conceded. “But, as I say, there is still research to be done when it comes to his character. As we are not lesser animals, I am afraid that height and broad shoulders simply aren’t enough.”
Melody smiled. “Eminently sensible. We shall make a naturalist out of you yet.”
The trouble was, no amount of research would prevent what was coming: marriage, whether Selina wanted it or not.