“Perhaps you should simply push the couch out of your way, dear,” Mrs. Davenport suggested.
“I’ve tried that. It won’t budge.”
Harrison swallowed a laugh, caught Permilia’s eye, saw that they’d begun to twinkle, and couldn’t resist a grin. “I’m afraid the couch is bolted to the floor, as is most of the furniture onboard, Gertrude, which is why it won’t budge.”
“Which makes perfect sense, but is not exactly what I wanted to hear right about now,” she called. “Would you have any suggestions regarding how I should get unstuck?”
“We could try butter,” Mrs. Davenport said before Harrison could reply. “I’ve been itching to discover whether butter can be used to assist a person getting in and out of small spaces. Shall I go to the galley and fetch some?”
Harrison wasn’t certain but he thought Gertrude let out a most unladylike snort. “We’re not slathering me up with butter. And why in the world have you been contemplating such an unusual use for butter in the first place?”
“Who says I’ve been contemplating that?” Mrs. Davenport asked.
“You did, just now,” Gertrude said.
“It’s not a difficult task to unbolt the couch, Gertrude,” Harrison called, effectively ending the debate the two ladies were still having about butter. “And while I’d be more than happy to unbolt the couch for you, because of your unusual predicament, I think the most prudent option would be for me to fetch one of my sisters and have her do the deed. I’ll also inquire as to whether one of them may have something stashed onboard theCorneliathat is suitable for you to wear. I have to imagine, given Edwina’s love of fashion, she’ll be the one who’ll have an extra gown, or twelve, lying about.”
In a blink of an eye, Mrs. Davenport was standing right beside him again, having practically knocked poor Permilia out of the way to resume her recently abandoned spot. She then flashed a delighted smile at him, looking exactly as if Christmas had come early.
“On my word, I’ve heard about those sisters of yours—beauties of the day if the talk about the city is accurate. But, tell me this, dear—why is it that none of your sisters has been brought out into society yet? Could it be they lack the proper connection, as in an established society matron, to introduce them into the highest circles?”
“Oh ... dear ... this is going to turn problematic,” Gertrude called, the vague nature of her voiced concern being completely ignored by Mrs. Davenport, who was evidently pretending she’d gone deaf and hadn’t heard a word her companion had just spoken.
Taking a firm grip of Harrison’s arm, she began drawing him down the companionway, turning her head and nodding to Permilia as she did so. “Be a dear, Permilia, and close that door for Gertrude. I don’t believe she’ll need you to stay and keep her company, what with her considerate nature and not wanting you to miss your own engagement celebration. Besides, I’ll be back in no time at all, and hopefully in the company of Harrison’s sisterEdwina—the young lady I’m now all in a dither to meet, especially since it would appear as if she and I share a great love of fashion.”
Before Harrison could do more than nod to Permilia, who was already turning to head back into the library because she evidently was not keen to simply leave her friend stranded in his library while less than appropriately dressed, and stuck behind the fainting couch at that, he found himself moving at a surprisingly fast clip down the companionway.
“I do hope you’ll encourage your sisters to seek me out if they have any need of my position within society to see them well-settled,” Mrs. Davenport said as she pulled him up a narrow flight of stairs, releasing a little huff when she soon discovered they couldn’t fit up the stairs moving side by side.
Instead of releasing his arm, she simply readjusted her hold on it, stepped forward, and then proceeded to pull him up the stairs behind her, almost as if she was concerned he’d get away from her if she let go of his arm.
Once they reached the aft deck, her grip on his arm didn’t falter, although she did pause after taking only two steps and turned to him, completely disregarding the curious looks they were receiving from some of the guests. “I’m afraid I have no idea where we’ll find your sisters.”
“I imagine they’re in the wheelhouse.”
“Ah, wonderful.” Sending the curious crowd what amounted to a regal inclination of her head, Mrs. Davenport started toward the wheelhouse, leaving him with the distinct notion she was remarkably familiar with his yacht—almost too familiar with it, now that he considered the...
“I know you told Gertrude you wouldn’t accept compensation for your couch, but do know that I will send you the funds to cover the damage since I was responsible for it being ruined—inadvertently of course through the malfunction of what I thought was a well-crafted bustle.”
Harrison shook the remnants of his interesting thoughts aside and smiled. “Accidents happen, Mrs. Davenport, and as a gentleman, it would be an insult to my honor to take money from a guest of mine, or that guest’s companion, because of an accident.” He slowed their pace and caught Mrs. Davenport’s eye. “If it makes you feel better, do know that I will donate the couch to a church I support in the Lower East Side, one that is always thankful for donations.”
“You go to church in the Lower East Side?”
“I do. Not all the time, mind you, since I am frequently on one of my ships, sailing one sea after another. But, when I’m in town, I enjoy the authenticity of being around people I’ve known since I was a child.”
Mrs. Davenport came to a complete stop and tilted her head. “I had no idea you grew up in the Lower East Side.”
“Born and raised on the docks down there.” Harrison gave her arm a squeeze. “And while I’d love to delve into the unusualness of my past...” He gestured out to sea, where lights could now be seen, marking the New Iron Pier that led to Brighton Beach. “Those lights you see are where we’re headed. And because we’re drawing near to the pier where everyone will need to depart the yacht, stories of any type will need to be put on hold.”
Ushering her directly up to the wheelhouse, he paused with his hand on the knob. “Before we go in here, I should probably warn you about my sisters.”
“You sisters come with a warning?”
“I’m afraid so, and while there are many warnings I could give you pertaining to my sisters, the one that is the most pressing is this—Adelaide, one of my younger sisters, is somewhat out of sorts this evening, so whatever you do, do not remark on how beautiful her face is. And, if you do happen to remark on Edwina’s face, which is beautiful as well, do not do so in earshot of Adelaide.”
For the briefest of seconds, Mrs. Davenport seemed to consider what he’d told her, and then, to his surprise, she simply nodded, and with a “Will do,” gestured to the door.
Turning the knob, he held the door for Mrs. Davenport, followed her into the wheelhouse, then took her arm, knowing a little extra support was occasionally needed when a person was faced with meeting his sisters for the very first time.
