He didn’t, but he owed it to her to try. He wandered over to join a group of the younger cousins seated around a picnic table and reached for a chair to join them.
“Don’t touch it!” Edwin shouted.
Patrick’s hand froze. He had no idea what he’d done wrong, but every man stared in rapt attention at a loaf of bread and wedge of cheese on the table. Oddly, there were several ten-dollar bills weighed down beneath a plate. All four men held their breath as they stared at the center of the table.
One of the cousins leaned over to whisper what was going on. “Edwin bet us all ten dollars that the beetle will go for the cheese instead of the bread.”
Patrick looked again. Sure enough, a tiny green beetle was inching toward the center of the table. Everyone watched the beetle’s clumsy progress with breathless anticipation.
These were the people Gwen thought were so wonderful? He crossed his arms and withdrew a few steps to watch the beetle’s slow journey. Maybe he shouldn’t be so judgmental. Ten dollars meant nothing to people this wealthy, so the gamble was probably harmless. Sixty seconds later, the outcome of the bet was determined when the beetle hauled itself onto the bread plate to a chorus of cheers. Money started changing hands, but Edwin was annoyed to have lost and smashed the beetle with his fist before brushing it away.
Patrick remembered the first moment he laid eyes on Gwen in his office. There had been a beetle squatting on her chair. She had cradled it in her palm, then carried it to the window and set it free.
He swallowed back his annoyance. Gwen managed to rub along okay in the Five Points even though it wasn’t natural for her, and he would try to do the same here.
He wandered toward Joshua, the young college student from Yale, and invited him for a stroll along the beach. Joshua looked momentarily puzzled but agreed.
They walked on a path through the sea oats. They were close enough to the water to feel the spray from the surf as it rolled onto the beach, and sea gulls wheeled overhead.
Patrick scrambled for common ground. “I’m curious why you decided to go to Yale instead of Blackstone College,” he asked the younger man.
“Blackstone College still has the reek of new money,” Joshua said.
Patrick quirked a brow. “Really? I think it reeks of science and hope for the future.”
“You sound like Gwen,” Joshua said with a note of humor.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
Joshua glanced at Gwen, who was scavenging on the shore amidst a cluster of children. Now she wore a seaweed necklace in addition to her crown of flowers, and Patrick thought she’d never looked prettier.
“She’s always been a bit of an odd duck,” Joshua said. “And that husband of hers—everyone knew he was after her money. We all felt sorry for her. Bertie tried to warn her about Jasper before the wedding, but there was no talking to her. Like I said, she’s an odd duck.”
Patrick said nothing. Gwen had more decency in her pinky finger than any of these men of leisure who lounged on the seashore while the rest of the world worked.
“What sort of plans do you have for after college?” he asked.
“I don’t want anything to do with the bank, that’s for sure,” Joshua said. “I like art. I spent last summer studying landscape painting in France and won third prize at an exhibition. Did you see the watercolor of the estate that’s hanging in the common room?”
Patrick nodded. It was a nice painting of the house and the cliffside, but nothing special.
“I painted that,” Joshua said in satisfaction. “I’d like to open an art gallery someday. Uncle Oscar said he would stake me in the business, but lately he’s been less free with the wallet. Poppy spends money by the fistful, and he won’t rein her in. Personally, I think it’s embarrassing for a man to be so besotted over a woman half his age, but he works hard to keep dumping money all over her.”
A group of younger cousins came meandering toward them, asking Joshua to join in a game of poker. “Edwin brought the poker chips, and we need a fourth player.”
“Right,” Joshua readily agreed.
They didn’t ask Patrick to join, which was fine. He had no interest in playing games with grown men dressed entirely in white. Only men who never sweat, got dirty, or did real work wasted money on white clothes.
He headed back toward the lounge chairs, where most of the older relatives were gathered with Poppy and Liam in the center. The annoying little girl was there too, and it looked like an argument was underway. Liam’s expression was stormy as Poppy spoke with great passion, jabbing an index finger directly in Liam’s face. Patrick quickened his steps to join them, and they all went silent as he approached.
Bertie turned to him. “Say, Poppy’s heard some unflattering things about you. What’s this about a warrant for your arrest over robbing a church?”
Patrick rocked back in disbelief. “I didn’t rob anyone,” he said tightly. “That was a trumped-up charge, and we told Frederick about it the day we arrived.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling them,” Liam said. “If Frederick believed it, we’d have been kicked out the moment we set foot on this island.”
Poppy lifted her chin to look at Patrick with disdain. “Liam can’t help his background and we have to tolerate him, but we don’t have to put up with you. I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”
