Mr. Malcolm's List (7 page)

Six

Julia announced over breakfast the next morning her
intention to have a dinner party.

“Well, my dear, I am not sure my poor nerves could stand
it.
 
A dinner party, you say?” Mrs.
Thistlewaite said.

“It is all right, Mama.
 
Selina and I will arrange everything.
 
All you have to do is attend.”

“Well, if you’re sure, child.
 
Who is it that you wanted to invite?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Julia said, with a quick glance at
Selina.
 
“Probably just Cassie, and his
friend Mr. Malcolm, and his friend Mr. Ossory.”

“A dinner party only for single gentlemen?
 
Perhaps you should invite some ladies as
well.”

“But that would make our numbers uneven.
 
What do you think, Selina?” Julia asked her
friend, who had been silent during the conversation between Julia and her
mother.

She did not immediately respond, so Julia said again,
“Selina.”

Selina looked over at Julia.
 
“I beg your pardon, I was not attending.
 
What is it you asked?”

“Who do you think we should invite to the dinner party we
are having?”

“I am sure whatever you think is fine,” Selina said
absently.

“Why are you so distracted?” Julia asked her.

“It is this letter from my parents,” Selina said, holding it
up for Julia to see.
 
“They have asked me
to call on my cousin’s widow.”
 
Selina
wrinkled her nose.
 
“I have only met her
once and hoped never to repeat the experience.”

“Why, what is wrong with her?”

“Nothing, really, I just find little in common with
her.
 
When I met her last I was only
fifteen, and she would not accept me at my word that I had no beaux.
 
She insisted on quizzing me for twenty
minutes on the subject before offering to help me find a husband.
 
I hate to think how she’ll react if she finds
me still unmarried.
 
But, I suppose I
should call on her.
 
Perhaps I should go
this morning.
 
The sooner I do, the
sooner I can write my parents and tell them so.”

“Would you like me to come with you?” Julia offered.

“Are you sure you want to?
 
It is only a duty call.
 
It is
bound to be boring for you.”

“I do not mind.
 
I had
nothing planned for the morning.”

“Thank you.
 
That
would be lovely.”

Selina and Julia were ushered into Mrs. Covington’s small
drawing room in her flat in Hans Town.
 
It appeared as if she had taken furnishings from a much larger residence
and crammed as many as would fit into her current one.
 
When Selina finally turned her gaze to her
cousin, it appeared to Selina as if Mrs. Covington had attempted the same
maneuver with her dress.
 
Her massive
bosom appeared in grave danger of bursting out of its moorings at any moment.

Mrs. Covington was a widow of five and thirty who wished to
appear fifteen years younger and at least two stones lighter.
 
She was dressed in a youthful morning gown of
pink and white, her unnaturally bright yellow hair arranged in ringlets around
her face.

“Selina Dalton, as I live and breathe!
 
I have not seen you since my dear Arnie was
alive,” Mrs. Covington exclaimed.

“How do you do, Mrs. Covington,” Selina said.

“Mrs. Covington?
 
Why
do you call me Mrs. Covington?
 
You do
not have to stand on ceremony with me, young lady.
 
Call me Gertie, as your cousin used to.”

“Gertie, please allow me to present to you—”

“Yes, I was just about to ask you who this handsome young
lady is.
 
It has taken you long enough to
introduce us.
 
Please forgive my cousin,
Miss—”

“Thistlewaite,” Julia offered.

“Lord, that’s a mouthful.
 
Miss Thistlewaite.
 
Miss
Thistlewaite
.
 
Say that one twenty
times,” Gertie said, laughing loudly.

Julia managed a weak smile in response.

“Where are my manners?
 
Please come, sit down.
 
I was so
excited to have callers I practically met you at the door.”

Selina and Julia proceeded three feet into the room, Julia
stumbling over a small foot stool.

“Just kick that out of the way, Miss Thistlewaite.
 
I was forced to economize upon the death of
my dear husband three years ago.”

“I was so sorry to hear the news of Cousin Arnold’s death,”
Selina said, sitting gingerly on the edge of a small settee, which was backed
up against the front of a sofa.
 
Selina
wondered what the point was of keeping a sofa that no one was able to sit
on.
 

“Yes, well, it was quite unexpected.
 
He was in the prime of life.
 
The doctor said it was apoplexy.
 
But I say that’s what they call everything
that they can’t figure out.
 

“But enough of such depressing talk.
 
I’m surprised to still be calling you “Miss,”
young lady.
 
You must be, what,
three-and-twenty?”

“I am twenty-two years old.”

“Lord, time flies.
 
I
think the last time I saw you you were fifteen.
 
I was sure such a handsome girl would be married by seventeen.
 
Good gracious, by the time I was the age you
are now I’d already buried my first husband.
 
Although, between you and me, it was not such a great loss.” Gertie
laughed heartily at her own wit, and Selina could have sworn she saw a button
pop off the bodice of her cousin’s gown.

“Now Arnie was a different story altogether,” Gertie
continued.
 
“People told him he’d married
below him, but he’d tell them he had me so high on a pedestal that he was
leagues below me.
 
That was a very
gentlemanly thing to say, and so I always told him.
 
He said it was no more than the truth.”
 
Gertie wiped a tear away, and Selina and
Julia exchanged an uncomfortable look.
 
Selina tried to repeat her condolences but Gertie went off on another tangent.

Although Selina did very little talking for the next half
hour she did manage to convey her parents’ greetings, and then she and Julia
prepared to take their leave.

“You cannot mean to leave already?” Gertie asked.

“But, Gertie, we have already stayed long past what is
considered polite.”

“Oh, you know that I do not care for such things.
 
I haven’t even heard about your beaux.”

“I am sorry, cousin, I cannot trespass on Miss
Thistlewaite’s time any longer.
 
But
perhaps I can come again another day,” Selina was surprised to hear herself
say.
 
But she had begun to feel sorry for
Gertie, who was obviously very lonely and enjoyed having visitors.

“That would be splendid.
 
And I could call on you, as well.
 
Where did you say you were staying?”

Selina had purposely avoided saying anything at all about
where she was staying, but cornered as she was she was forced to give the
address of the Thistlewaites’ town house.

Once they had said their farewells and were safely in the
carriage, Julia turned to her friend and said, “You do not actually mean to
call upon her again, do you?”

“Yes, I rather think I do.
 
She seemed so very lonely, don’t you think?”

“She practically fell upon our necks in joy.
 
She must not get many visitors.”
 
Julia and Selina sat a moment in silence.
 
“What she must do is find someone to marry
her.
 
She’s obviously pining away for
another husband.”

“What made you think so?” Selina asked, with obvious
irony.
 
Gertie had spent almost the
entire thirty minutes of their visit discussing men and marriage.

Julia ignored Selina’s remark, pursuing her own
thoughts.
 
“I am afraid I don’t know
anyone who would suit her, though.
 
She
is so dreadfully vulgar,” she finally said.

“But she is sweet, don’t you agree?” Selina asked.

“Yes, I do.
 
I rather
liked her.
 
Although I cannot say I am
eager to visit her again.
 
I felt in
imminent danger of being injured by a precariously placed piece of furniture
the entire time.”

Selina laughed.
 
“I
felt a little as if I were suffocating myself.”

Selina did not feel like laughing when she eventually
learned the purpose of Julia’s dinner party.
 
It appeared that Cassie had informed Julia that one of the items on Mr.
Malcolm’s list was “Accomplished in music and singing.”
 
The dinner party was to be Selina’s
opportunity to display her talents in that regard.

Selina was sick to death of Malcolm’s list.
 
If it hadn’t been for that blasted thing she
felt that their mutual attraction would be allowed to take its natural
course.
 
With a lady and gentleman the
natural course was courtship, followed by marriage.
 
Without Julia’s interference she would have
been able to wholeheartedly enjoy Malcolm’s attentions to her, without feeling
the whole time that she was participating in some despicable scheme.

Selina hated that feeling.
 
She was by nature very open and honest and she disliked anything that
smacked of deception.
 
She particularly
disliked the charade Julia had involved her in, and resolved to no longer be a
party to it.
 
She wondered what would
happen if she failed to meet some requirement on Malcolm’s list.
 
Surely that would have to bring the foolish
game to its end.

Tuesday evening, the date for Julia’s dinner party arrived,
and Selina resolved to find out.
 

It was a small party of six: the Thistlewaite ladies,
Selina, Lord Cassidy, Mr. Malcolm, and Mr. Ossory.
 
Cassie escorted Mrs. Thistlewaite into
dinner, Mr. Malcolm escorted Selina, and Julia followed with Mr. Ossory.
 
Selina was beginning to suspect Julia had a
tendre
for Mr. Ossory.
 
His very appearance on
the guest list seemed proof of this, as Julia viewed Mr. Ossory as a threat to
her scheme to humiliate Mr. Malcolm yet she had invited him anyway.
 
It was unfortunate that Mr. Ossory seemed to
consider Julia something of a nuisance and was still intent on courting
Selina.
 
However, he did manage to
converse politely with Julia throughout the many courses, only glancing
occasionally at Selina, who sat across from him.

Selina was a little shy with Mr. Malcolm, as this was the
first time she had encountered him since the evening of that travesty of a
waltz and their aborted kiss.
 
She
attempted to converse with Cassie, who sat on her right, but he was much too
interested in his meal and she was forced to turn back to Malcolm for
conversation.
 
Unfortunately, his first
question concerned the state of her injured foot.

“It is fine, thank you,” she said, blushing furiously.

“That’s a pity,” Malcolm said, with a wicked smile.

“You found me quite graceful hopping about like a wounded
bird, did you?”

“No, not at all.
 
I
much preferred it when you ceased the hopping and came home to roost, to
continue your bird analogy.”

“Perhaps we should not continue this conversation at all,”
Selina said, giving Mr. Malcolm a warning glance.

“It seems a shame not to when you blush so delightfully but,
if you insist, it would be ungentlemanly of me to continue.”

“Thank you,” Selina said, making a concerted effort not to
blush.
 

There was a slight pause as Malcolm addressed himself to his
meal and Selina struggled to regain her composure.
 
Then Malcolm asked:
 
“Since you have ordered me to change the
subject, tell me, what is your opinion of the Church Building Act?”

“What a weighty question to ask over soup.
 
I believe it is in bad taste to discuss
politics before the entrée is served.”