Unfortunately, before he could perform the expected introductions, Margaret, who’d been manning the wheel, looked up, smiled in clear delight, then gestured Adelaide forward to take over the job of steering the yacht right before she turned her smile his way.
“On my word, Harrison, you’ve done it! You’ve captured the culprit. And how thoughtful of you to bring her here, evidently realizing that now I can finally fulfill one of my deepest desires—that being tossing someone directly into the brig.”
Chapter
Five
“I really believe we should wait for one of Harrison’s sisters to arrive and unbolt the couch instead of having me attempt the difficult feat of prying you from that tight space,” Permilia said, even as she stood on the fainting couch and tightened her grip on Gertrude’s upper arms.
Gertrude shook her head. “Did you not hear Mrs. Davenport make that remark regarding butter?”
Permilia’s grip slackened ever so slightly. “I did, but if you’ll recall, you nipped that idea in the bud rather sufficiently, so I’m not certain I understand your meaning.”
“Mrs. Davenport, bless her unusual heart, is not a lady to easily brush aside ideas when they strike her fancy. You mark my words, she’ll be trying to convince one of Harrison’s sisters that it’ll be easier to butter me up than unbolt the furniture. That right there is why I need you to try your best to set me free. If you’ve forgotten, you were the one who managed to get Wilhelmina Radcliffe unstuck from underneath that chair a few months back. Because of that experience, I have every confidence in your ability to get me unstuck as well. I’ve been mortified enough this evening, thank you very much, and am convinced that an experiment with butter, with me being the subject of that experiment, will finally part me from the small shred of dignity I’ve managed to retain.”
Permilia grinned. “I can’t claim that the image of you covered in butter isn’t an amusing one. However, since I do seem to have experience getting ladies unstuck, which seems downright odd now that I think about it, brace yourself because this might demand some determined tugging on my part.”
With that, Permilia set to work, but no matter how hard she tugged, Gertrude didn’t budge so much as a single inch.
“I’m really going to have to begin abstaining from all those pastries I enjoy,” Gertrude muttered as Permilia swiped a hand over a perspiring brow.
“You have a lovely figure, Gertrude. It simply wasn’t meant to be stuffed in such a tiny area.” Drawing in a breath, Permilia readjusted her balance while readjusting her hold on Gertrude, muttered what seemed to be a prayer under her breath, and reared backward. What sounded exactly like a pop met her efforts, and before Gertrude could do more than yelp, she found herself, along with Permilia, tumbling up and over the couch, landing hard on the floor of the library.
At first, the only sound to be heard was their labored breathing, but a second later, snorts of amusement replaced the breathing, replaced a second after that with howls of laughter.
A full minute passed before Permilia released a last hiccup of laughter, pushed herself into a sitting position, waited for Gertrude to do the same, then grinned.
“I’m pleased to say that my reputation as a rescuer of stuck ladies remains firmly intact.”
Gertrude returned the grin. “Let us hope that particular talent of yours won’t be needed on my behalf ever, ever again.” She rose to her feet, rubbed an elbow that was smarting dreadfully, then held out a hand to Permilia and helped her friend off the floor.
She gestured to the door. “Now that I’m free, I must insist you rejoin your engagement celebration. A lady usually only gets one of those, and I don’t want to you to tarry longer because of my unusual circumstances.”
A crease immediately marred Permilia’s forehead. “I’m not going to leave you here all by your lonesome, Gertrude. I’ll rejoin the celebration after we get you properly dressed and able to come with me.”
“You’ll do no such thing. I’m fine, and I have little fear anyone else will stumble upon me, what with Harrison probably gathering everyone on the top deck to divulge his surprise. He can’t very well do that divulging, however, without both of the guests of honor, so go. Again, I’ll be fine and I’ll join you just as soon as I’m able.”
Permilia rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll go, but if you’re not above deck directly, I’ll be back.” Snatching up a blanket from a basket beside one of the chairs, Permilia wrapped it around Gertrude’s shoulders, gave her a lovely hug, then hurried from the room.
When the door closed behind her friend, Gertrude walked over to a chair and sat down, rearranging the blanket so that it afforded her a small amount of modesty. Leaning her head back, she drew in a breath, heat settling into her cheeks when everything that had recently transpired began whirling through her mind.
She’d gotten stuck to a fainting couch. And while that was certainly a most embarrassing situation, having Harrison walk in on her while she’d been cackling like mad and less than sufficiently dressed was without a doubtthemost mortifying experience she’d ever had in her life.
It was almost too much to comprehend, especially with his being a gentleman she held in high esteem, that feeling certain never to be returned on his part after he witnessed her making a true cake of herself and...
Gertrude sucked in a sharp breath as truth, and an unexpected morsel of truth at that, took that very second to burrow deep into her soul.
She’d vehemently denied Miss Flowerdew’s accusation that she was romantically attracted to Harrison when, in all honesty, Miss Flowerdew’s assessment of the situation might have been spot-on.
The very idea she’d somehow allowed herself to develop affections of the romantic sort for Harrison lent credence to the idea that she, Gertrude Cadwalader, a normally no-nonsense and practical sort, was in actuality a complete ninny.
Harrison Sinclair was afforded the attention of diamonds of the first water, as Miss Flowerdew had pointed out, and, sadly, Gertrude knew full well she would never rise to that particular status in life, not with her being anything other than ordinary.
Ordinary ladies did not garner the affections of gentlemen of Harrison’s caliber.
Rubbing a hand against a head that felt as if it might burst, Gertrude tried to summon up the practicality she was known to embrace. Unfortunately, nothing of a practical nature sprang to mind. Instead, an odd longing to procure a more sophisticated attitude took hold of her and wouldn’t let go.
If she possessed even a smidgen of sophistication, she would have been discovered by Harrison reclining gracefully on the fainting couch, reading a Jane Austen novel in one hand while nibbling at a sugar cookie with the other. Her stockings, which she hadn’t failed to notice were pooled around her ankles, would have been in fine form, and her hair would have been fashioned in a manner that one wouldn’t need to travel to a country far, far away in order to find other ladies wearing a similar style.
