CHAPTER 5 - SELENA

The voices downstairs grow louder and louder each time I’m trying to fall asleep. I glance at the clock on my bedside table. It’s nearly midnight. Then I hear my mother’s voice. My sleep vanishes. What’s my mother doing back so soon? I get out of bed and open the door a crack. The voices are coming from the drawing room. I recognize my mother’s voice, and Uncle William’s. Then I hear a third voice – one I don’t recognize. I pull open my door just enough to sneak out and see if I can a better look at who is downstairs. Why would my mother invite someone over so late at night? She’s always been so strict about not having guests over at irregular hours of the night. Something doesn’t seem right.

I creep as close as I can to the banisters and try to peek downstairs.

“Are you sure this will work?” Williams asks my mother.

“Why wouldn’t it?” the guest asks. “Lady Penelope had obviously thought this over and considered the pros and cons of her decision.” The stranger is wearing black silk pants and a white silk shirt. His straight, black hair is a tad overgrown. The feeling that I’ve seen him before grows stronger and stronger.

The man sounds like he’s also an aristocrat. His voice is eerily familiar. At last, I manage to get a look at the drawing room. The man’s back faces me. My mother pours him and William another drink.

“We’ve hit a bit of a financial rut,” my mother tells the stranger, “and I’m hoping you can help us get out of it.”

My chest tightens when she mentions that we’re in a financial crisis. When did this happen? Why didn’t she tell me about it? Why had she chosen to tell a stranger about the financial problems in Cornwall House and not her own daughter? The man is silent for a moment as he accepts the drink from my mother.

“What’s in it for me?” he asks eventually.

“I could help you regain your reputation.” She sits in the velvet chair in front of the man. I can only see her hair from my hiding spot upstairs.

“Let me hear your proposition,” the stranger says.

“I’ve written it down,” my mother tells him. She hands him a brown envelope sealed with a wax imprint of our family crest.

“A bedtime story. Hmmm.” The guest chuckles. “I’ll read this at home tomorrow morning.”

“We can conclude this here and now,” my mother says, her tone a tad insistent.

“No. I like to read business proposals with a fresh mind and what better time to start than first thing in the morning?”

“Yeah.” My mother’s voice lacks enthusiasm.

“Thank you.” The guest places his glass on the coffee table. “I will call you once I’m done reading your proposition. Have a lovely night’s rest, Lady Penelope,” he says.

“Thank you, My Lord.”

I was right. Her guest is an aristocrat.

My mother rises from her seat to escort her guest out. Uncle William has been quiet throughout her conversation, I realize.

“Please, call me Edmund,” he says.

Edmund? I repeat silently, Edmund Carrington? The biggest playboy in all of England. He’s earned himself the nickname bicycle because of the countless times the paparazzi photographed him having sex with some of the most famous women in the world. What business could my mother possibly have with Earl Edmund Carrington of Essex. How fitting that his official title has sex in it considering that is all Edmund is really famous for. I stifle a laugh. Maybe my mother’s having an affair with the well-known playboy. The Earl appreciates women of all ages as long as they are willing to share his bed. Still, it’s pretty disgusting picturing my mother in bed with anyone. Yuck.

Edmund leaves without so much as hugging my mother. Maybe I was wrong about her propositioning him. I rush back to my bedroom to check if Edmund is really leaving. What if my mother plans on following him in her own car? I turn off the light and open the curtains a crack. Only one unfamiliar car drives out. I’m about to close the curtains when I spot a familiar figure. Raymond? What’s he doing here?

My heart races. I have to get his attention somehow. Phoning him is out of the question. What if his phone isn’t on silent? He’d definitely attract the attention of the guards. I wrack my head trying to come up with a way to call him. My collection of rock crystals catches my eye. I rush to the cabinet displaying them and grab the biggest amethyst rock I can find. I push open the window and aim the amethyst at him.

“Oops.” It hits Raymond on the back of his head. He stumbles and falls to his knees. I have to go out and see him. What if he passes out? I listen for my mother’s and William’s voices. The drawing room is silent. I sigh, relieved. I make my way downstairs, grab a bag of frozen peas, then rush to the back door and sneak out to check on Raymond. He’s sitting up, leaning against a boulder in the garden, holding his head and moaning.

“Here.” He looks up surprised when he sees me.

I give him the bag of frozen peas. He presses it to his head.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard.”

He laughs a bit. “You were not supposed to know I was here.”

“I see why,” I tell him sitting beside him.

“You have a powerful arm. You should play cricket.”

I laugh at his feeble joke. “I’ll give it a shot in France.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“So what are you doing here?” I ask.

He sighs. “Your mother never went to the party at Northington Palace. She sent a body double in her place. When I noticed that I came here to see what she’s up to.”

“Do you think it has anything to do with Earl Edmund Carrington?”

He gasps. “Edmund was here?”

“Yeah. He left just before I knocked you off your feet.” I laugh at my own joke.

“This cannot be good,” Edmund says, taking my hand, “I hope your mother doesn’t get herself into a scandal.”

I hope so too.

“Who’s there?” My mother’s voice disrupts the brief silence.

Edmund grabs me and pulls me into the shadows. My heart beats up a frenzy as my mother’s footsteps become louder.

“Raymond? Selena?”

Oh, dear.