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Chapter Eight

Selina

S elina smiled to herself as she surveyed the attendees at the musical evening at Lord Plimpton’s in Town.

There were no empty seats in the drawing room, which hummed with chatter after the music finished.

The musicians tended to their instruments while footmen bearing trays emerged into the room to refresh their master’s guests.

Mr. Drake was not among those guests. No doubt he was occupied with…other things.

“And so he simply pretended to know about hunting equipment?” Phoebe whispered with a curious knit to her brow. Selina had recounted the events of the preceding day on their way to the musical evening, but Phoebe was evidently still trying to comprehend.

“Not just pretended,” Selina said. “Spoke with unassailable confidence on a topic he knew nothing about. I would not be surprised if he had never held a rifle or a fowling piece before.” She rose and took two glasses of sherry from the passing footman, privately and reluctantly admiring Mr. Drake’s audacity.

“What happened when you corrected him?” Phoebe asked.

“I did not correct him.”

Phoebe’s brow puzzled even further. “Why ever not? ”

She sipped her sherry before responding. “Because if I had , he would not have made an utter and complete fool of himself.”

Phoebe laughed incredulously. “But he does not know that he made an utter fool of himself.”

“He will when I choose for him to know it. I am more tempted, however, to let him dig the hole of his humiliation deeper still.” She had been considering inviting Mr. Drake to join her on a small shooting expedition. That would be amusing indeed.

And dangerous, which was what had decided her against it.

She rested the glass against her lips, remembering some of the moments from Mr. Drake’s visit with nostalgia.

“There was something so very delicious about hearing him speak of a fowling piece as being too long in the mouth . Or having him warn me that no one might be willing to pay for one that I saw George pay thirty guineas for with my own eyes.” She laughed softly.

It was maddening that Mr. Drake would have the gall to pretend expertise on a topic upon which he was mind-bogglingly ignorant—all in an effort to pursue her fortune.

Yet, not just any man could fumble his way through such an ordeal with so much entirely unmerited confidence and leave her somehow amused rather than aggravated—and, if she was being entirely honest with herself, slightly charmed.

Phoebe finished her sherry, her eyes wandering somewhere across the room.

There were a number of handsome young gentlemen present, and Selina had noticed her attention wandering from the music more than once.

The object, she was nearly certain, was a man named Mr. Evenden, a good-looking man with a ready smile—and ready compliments.

“And after all that, you sent him home with Pip?”

Selina’s smile grew. “Oh, yes. He stepped all too willingly into that trap. But you may count me shocked beyond reason if we do not receive a visit from him soon, returning Pip to our care with some excuse or other about why he can no longer house the creature. ”

“And if he does not?”

“He will. You were not present for the havoc Pip wreaked before Mr. Drake’s visit, Phoebe. I would not be surprised if that monkey was the devil incarnate.”

“But he has such a charming face!”

Much like Mr. Drake , Selina thought. “Charm can be a dangerous weapon against female vanity, my dear. Better to be on your guard against it.”

“Of course,” Phoebe agreed.

Mr. Evenden found his way over to them shortly after, and while Selina was occupied speaking with Mrs. Winser, she kept an eye on Phoebe and him.

Phoebe’s cheeks were more than usually pink and her laugh never more than a few moments away.

She doubted Mr. Evenden’s conversation merited such ready and ripe amused responses.

He was charming Phoebe. That was all there was to it.

“What can you tell me about the Evenden boy?” Selina asked Mrs. Winser.

Mrs. Winser took great pride in her abundant knowledge of anyone of consequence, and her gaze searched for Mr. Evenden until she found him.

A knowing look entered her eyes. “Worried, are you? He flirts with everyone, but it is simply his way. Never a breath of scandal attached to the Evenden name. I believe he has a respectable fortune coming his way. You need not worry your head over his showing attention to Miss Grant, though.”

Selina was not entirely reassured. Phoebe’s tendency to think the very best of everyone was as dangerous as it was admirable.

The fact that she had but a small dowry to offer prospective matches made it unlikely that Mr. Evenden meant anything serious.

Whether Phoebe would realize that was less certain.

Selina excused herself from Mrs. Winser presently and gently but firmly interrupted Mr. Evenden and Phoebe.

The glow in Phoebe’s cheeks lasted until they reached home some time later. Mr. Evenden’s name came up more than once in their carriage conversation until Selina determined to say something as they reached Berkeley Square.

“Be careful, Phoebe, of the man who makes you feel like the only woman in the room. More often than not, he has made every woman in the room feel that way.”

Phoebe’s smile wavered. “You speak of Mr. Evenden.”

“I speak of all men,” Selina said. “But if Mr. Evenden has made you feel such a way, then, yes, I speak of him as well. I would not have you hurt.”

Phoebe smiled gratefully as the carriage came to a stop. “I know. But I do believe he enjoys our conversation as much as I do.”

“Of course he does,” Selina replied kindly.

“You are the easiest person in the world to speak with! I merely wish for you to listen not only to your heart but to your head also. The heart can so easily be deceived. I wish someone had said as much to me at your age. It might have saved me a great deal of heartache.”

Despite that hard-won experience, it was heartache Selina had been on the cusp of courting yet again when she had met Mr. Drake.

Thank heaven Mr. Haskett had helped her avoid following the string of her curiosity any farther.

Now, Selina had Mr. Drake on her string.

Nearly a week had passed, however, when Selina sent yet another note to see how Mr. Drake and Pip were getting on. She thanked him profusely for the service he was providing.

It was dinnertime when one of the footmen brought Mr. Drake’s response.

Selina forced herself to open it casually, setting it upon the table to read as she removed her gloves.

“What is it?” Phoebe asked as Selina’s mouth spread into a grin .

Selina picked up the note and read from it:

If it is not too much trouble, I thought Pip and I might call upon you tomorrow.

She set down the note again. “Ten to one, he will manage things so that he leaves empty-handed and we are saddled with the monkey again.”

To give credit where credit was due, Mr. Drake had lasted far longer than she had expected. She had begun to wonder if Mr. Drake simply did not mind the chaos of the monkey—or perhaps her fortune was ample enough to compensate for the trouble.

But even if he did depart without Pip on his visit tomorrow, she had another plan in store for Mr. Drake—a way to force him into revealing his hand, she hoped.

Her anticipatory smile lasted all throughout dinner and even through the evening she and Phoebe spent at Almack’s.

Mr. Evenden was present, and Phoebe was the first person he asked to dance. Phoebe accepted, but Selina was gratified to see her less quick to be delighted by him.

The most difficult task for Selina as she and Phoebe awaited Mr. Drake’s visit the following day was to tame her self-satisfied smile.

If she had truly been facing the prospect of taking Pip back, perhaps she would have felt more dread than satisfaction, but she was only renting Pip and could return him at will. The small daily fee she was paying was nothing to the pleasure of torturing Mr. Drake.

“I feel for him,” Phoebe said as they awaited his arrival in the drawing room.

“It was his suggestion to take Pip, Phoebe,” Selina said with amusement. She had intended to ask it of him eventually, but he had beat her to it. “No one forced the monkey upon him. And do you know why he offered to take the monkey?”

“Because he wished to be of help to you.”

Selina laughed indulgently. “May Mr. Drake endeavor to deserve the benefit of the doubt you bestow upon him so willingly, dear Phoebe. Why do you suppose he wishes to be of help to me?”

“Out of the goodness of his heart?” Phoebe offered, but there was little conviction behind the words.

Selina merely smiled at her as the door opened.

“Mr. Drake,” the butler announced. “And…the monkey.”

Selina and Phoebe rose simultaneously as Mr. Drake stepped into the room.

All the composure Selina had worked so valiantly to gather crumbled, the greeting on her lips dying a sudden death.

On Mr. Drake’s left shoulder sat Pip, but it was not the Pip she had sent him home with.

The small monkey wore a miniature crimson waistcoat, complete with one small button.

The bottom of the waistcoat was concealed by a wide strip of dark linen, which had been wrapped between and then around his legs, then finished off around the waist with a knot at his small belly.

A hole in the back of the apparatus allowed his tail to trail behind him.

“Is Pip wearing…a clout?” Selina asked incredulously as the monkey jumped down from his shoulder and scampered over to Phoebe.

Mr. Drake walked over to Selina and bowed. “It is only until he is properly breeched.” He leaned toward her and spoke in an undervoice, as though trying to keep the sound from Pip. “Though, to be quite frank, I am not entirely certain that time will ever come.”