“Speaking of the race tracks, did I mention to you that the Jockey Club uses this hotel as their summer headquarters?”
“You did not, but what a lovely hotel for the Jockey Club to have at its disposal,” Gertrude said before she frowned. “However, on a different note, why did you assume I’m a member of high society? I don’t recall saying anything that implied as much.”
Mr. Jackson waved away her question. “Your name, of course, Miss Cadwalader. Everyone knows the Cadwalader name is well-regarded throughout New York.” He slowed his pace, much to her relief since the stitch in her side had yet to fully disappear, and smiled. “I do hope we here at the Manhattan Beach Hotel can now count on you to sing our praises to your family, which I would have to believe will go far in convincing them to visit this fine, fine resort.”
Unwilling to admit to the overly earnest gentleman smiling so expectantly her way that she wasn’t on what anyone would consider overly familiar or good terms with her extended relations, Gertrude settled for simply sending Mr. Jackson a nod before she turned the conversation right back to talk of the hotel.
Mr. Jackson was more than happy to speak further on that subject, which allowed Gertrude to remain silent as he rattled off one interesting tidbit after another. In the process, Gertrude found herself possessed of knowledge that now included that the Manhattan Beach Hotel possessed over one hundred and fifty guest rooms, numerous shops that sold a wide variety of goods, and restaurants to tempt every palate; for those guests who enjoyed taking a dip in the salty sea, the hotel provided over twenty-five hundred single bathing huts that were located at the edge of the ocean. For the guest who preferred to bathe in the ocean with his or her friends, the hotel also had additional bathing huts that could accommodate up to six guests at a time.
As they turned down yet another hallway, Gertrude felt just a smidgen of relief when Mr. Jackson finally came to a stop, especially since she was getting a bit winded from trying to keep up with his long-legged pace, that pace having increased with every new tidbit that passed his lips.
“Here you are, Miss Cadwalader,” he said with a flourish of his hand toward a door before them. “You’ll find your friends in that ballroom, and I do hope you enjoy your evening and come back and visit us soon.”
Presenting her with a bow, Mr. Jackson turned and walked away without another word, leaving Gertrude smiling fondly after the man who’d imparted what seemed like the hotel’s entire history in the span of time it had taken them to reach their destination. Heading for the room she’d just been shown, Gertrude nodded to another staff member who stepped forward and held the door for her, finding herself a mere moment later standing in a lovely ballroom.
It was not an overly large setting, which leant it a welcoming atmosphere, that atmosphere aided by the chandeliers that were responsible for the soft light flickering around the room. Gazing around, she found round tables draped in fine linen set up along the very edge of a parquet floor, those tables set to perfection with crystal glasses and highly polished silverware. A breeze tinted with the scent of the sea glided in through open doors that faced the ocean.
Mixed in with the scent of the sea was a hint of the meal that was undoubtedly soon to come, one that would certainly be nothing less than delicious. Given the tightness of the laces that were squeezing her somewhat relentlessly, though, she was resigned to the idea she’d be able to do nothing more than merely nibble her way through a portion of that delicious meal, even if she could find someone to loosen her laces a little.
Craning her neck, Gertrude resorted to standing on tiptoe as she tried to find Mrs. Davenport, but before she got so much as a glimpse of her target, she was distracted by the sight of Clementine marching her way, smiling far too brightly.
“There you are!” Clementine exclaimed, surprising Gertrude when she pulled her into an unexpected hug, the surprise disappearing straightaway when Clementine began whispering urgently in Gertrude’s ear.
“May I dare hope that your tardiness is a direct result of you having a little chat with Mr. Sinclair—one that revolved around me and my desire to have that gentleman turn his affections my way?”
“Ah” was all Gertrude seemed capable of summoning up, which had Clementine taking a telling step away from her as her smile dimmed and her eyes turned hard.
“You didn’t even bother to broach the topic of me to Mr. Sinclair, did you?”
“I do think your name was broached, but...” Gertrude released a breath. “I’m afraid I must tell you some most distressing news—Mr. Sinclair proclaimed himself uninterested in forming an attachment with any lady at the moment, stating that he’s far too consumed with matters of business to be distracted with matters of the heart, or ... er ... something similar to that.”
Clementine’s mouth dropped open for a second before she pressed her lips together, then nodded before she drew in a breath and moved closer to Gertrude again. “Am I supposed to believe that you told Mr. Sinclair that I was interested in procuring his affections, and then he said all that instead of proclaiming himself delighted to learn of my interest?”
“I wouldn’t say I was quite that specific with Harrison,” Gertrude began. “It was more a case of the crowd gathered with us speaking in a general manner about ladies and attachments, and then he proclaimed himself currently uninterested in those very attachments.”
Clementine gave a sad shake of her head. “You were hoping he’d declare himself interested in you, weren’t you? And now you’re trying to convince me that the gentleman is not interested in ladies in general, which, in your twisted spinster mind, must have you believing you still stand a chance with him.”
“I don’t recall mentioning anything about me hoping he’d declare himself. But speaking of twisted ... why in the world would you have told Harrison that I was intending to steal his painting? You know I was intending nothing of the sort, and besides, do you really believe that was a prudent move with you still apparently wanting me to help you?” Gertrude asked, annoyance sliding through her when she realized Clementine wasn’t listening to a word she was saying because she was absorbed with something over Gertrude’s shoulder.
“Ah, there he is now,” Clementine all but purred as she raised a hand and smoothed it over hair that was not out of place. Lowering that hand a moment later, she sent Gertrude a nod. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s now become remarkably clear thatifI’m going to secure Mr. Sinclair’s affections, and secure those affections before the summer season begins in earnest, I’ll need to do that myself.” Turning on her heel, Clementine glided away without another word, straight in the direction of Harrison, who’d just walked into the ballroom.
A moment later, Clementine was clutching the arm Harrison had extended to her, looking for all intents and purposes as if she was the cat who’d been given a very large dish of cream.
Unable to help but notice that Harrison seemed to be less than affected by the great deal of lash fluttering sent his way from a now beaming and slightly smug-looking Clementine, Gertrude felt her lips twitch before she turned back to the crowd that had assembled in the ballroom. Glancing over the guests who seemed to be enjoying themselves as they sampled delicacies from the many trays being offered to them by members of the staff, Gertrude set about the daunting task of trying to run Mrs. Davenport to ground yet again. She could only hope that during the time Mrs. Davenport had been at the hotel, she’d not yet delved into any mischief.
“There you are, Gertrude,” Permilia exclaimed, walking up to join her. “But where’s Harrison?”
“He’s being entertained by the oh-so-delightful Clementine Flowerdew, who practically accosted him the moment the poor man stepped into this room.”
Permilia’s brows drew together. “Did the two of you have a falling out on the way here?”
“Of course not. Why would you assume that?”
“Because it seems unusually cruel of you to throw Harrison to the wolves that way, or in this case, throw him to Clementine, especially considering Temperance disclosed to us how determined her cousin is to secure a proposal from him.”
Gertrude looked around, then leaned closer to Permilia and lowered her voice. “I’m afraid there was no choice but to leave Harrison to his own devices after I learned the Pinkerton detectives are prowling around this very hotel.”
Permilia reached out and gave Gertrude’s arm a bit of a rub. “Allow me to set your mind at ease. Mrs. Davenport has not been wandering about on her own. She was waiting for us in the lobby, and while I will admit she did seem to be slightly interested in the guests who were wandering about, most of whom were dripping in jewels, she abandoned that interest the moment I introduced her to Edwina.” Permilia nodded to where a small orchestra was setting up. “They’ve tucked themselves away behind the musicians and are having a lovely chat even as we speak.”
