Gertrude walked the length of the long dining table, checking each place setting to make certain everything was laid out properly for the class she was preparing to teach on table etiquette.
Miss Snook’s school was not yet back in session, but because Gertrude was no longer Mrs. Davenport’s companion, and had accepted the offer of becoming a full-time instructor in all matters of decorum, she had hours and hours of time on her hands. Those hours needed to be filled with tasks that kept her busy, especially since when she was at her leisure, thoughts of Harrison snuck into her mind and left her feeling somewhat morose.
Spotting a knife that wasn’t polished as well as it should have been, Gertrude picked it up and moved to a serving cart situated by the door to the dining room, smiling when she saw someone had snuck in while she’d been occupied with her lesson planning and left a little snack of cookies and milk for her on the cart.
Gertrude picked up one of the cookies, gave it a nibble, and wondered if she’d ever get used to being fussed over.
Not only was Mrs. Davenport hovering over her at all hours of the day and night, but Miss Henrietta and Miss Mabel were hovering as well, their obvious determination to distract her from Harrison’s disappointing response to how he viewed their relationship going far in keeping her from descending into too many bouts of wallowing.
It wasn’t that she’d truly believed Harrison would fall on his knees and extend her a proposal of the most romantic sort smack-dab in the middle of Grace Church. However, his staunch rejection of the idea that his relationship with her was progressing in a romantic fashion left her with a somewhat aching heart.
That she’d known falling in love with Harrison was a great risk didn’t ease the disappointment now settled deep in her soul, especially since she’d thought she’d seen something interesting in his eyes after Mrs. Davenport’s initial remark, something that—
“I simply do not understand why I’m being required to enter Miss Snook’s school as a student. Clearly I have designing skills those poor women who attend the school could find very useful in getting them out of their domestic jobs and into more satisfying ones.”
Swallowing the piece of cookie she’d just put into her mouth, Gertrude looked up and found Mrs. Davenport standing in the doorway, holding what seemed to be a large amount of horsehair in her hands.
Gertrude smiled. “Miss Henrietta believes it will benefit you to hone some of those skills by working with a real designer, one who designs clothing for the socially elite on a regular basis.”
“ButIcan design for the elite as well,” Mrs. Davenport argued before she held up what might have been her attempt at another bustle. “Take a gander at this. Perfection, if you ask me, and I didn’t resort to dismantling a single birdcage to obtain this large size.”
Gertrude eyed the lump of horsehair, proud of herself when she didn’t so much as shudder. “It’s impressive to be sure, but I don’t believe that’s going to persuade Miss Henrietta to change her mind.”
Mrs. Davenport released a sigh right before she flung herself into the nearest chair, discarding her creation on a neighboring chair. “Henrietta’s a nightmare.”
Gertrude smiled. “You two adore each other.”
Mrs. Davenport returned the smile. “True, but she’s still a nightmare.” She flicked aside the lacey curtain and peered out the narrow window directly beside her chair.
“Expecting someone?” Gertrude asked, picking up a new knife and returning to the place setting she’d been working on.
“I keep wondering when Harrison will stop in to call. We haven’t seen that gentleman since theincidentat Grace Church.”
“Edwina told us yesterday that Harrison had to leave town because their father needed assistance again with one of their more difficult customers over in Boston.”
“If you ask me, I think Harrison frequently abandons the city for the high seas when he’s facing disgruntlement from the feminine set,” Mrs. Davenport said.
Gertrude pulled a ruler out of her pocket, made certain the knife was exactly aligned with the other silverware, then repocketed the ruler. “Iam not disgruntled with Harrison.”
“Well, I certainly am,” a new voice said from outside the doorway. A second later, Edwina strode into the room, stopping directly in front of Mrs. Davenport. Bending over, she gave her a kiss on the cheek, then straightened and grinned. “I couldn’t help but hear your dulcet tones, Mrs. Davenport, as I was walking down the hallway. You appear to be in a feisty state today.”
Mrs. Davenport returned the grin. “Your brother’s fault, dear, and why have you begun addressing me as Mrs. Davenport again instead of Hester?”
“Because Gertrude can’t seem to get comfortable with calling you Hester, even though you finally came to your senses and suggested she do exactly that. I’m simplifying the situation for everyone.”
Mrs. Davenport inclined her head. “Very thoughtful of you, dear. However, returning to your brother, is he truly out of town, or is that excuse simply a ruse that is sparing him an unpleasant encounter with ladies such as myself, Miss Henrietta, and Miss Mabel?”
Edwina plopped into the chair next to Mrs. Davenport. “Oh, he’s definitely out of town, and you may add me to the list of ladies who long to have an unpleasant encounter with him.” She released a dramatic breath. “He had the audacity to tell my mother I was batting my lashes at Agent McParland, and ... behaving in what he described as an untoward fashion with a man I’d only just met.”
The corners of Gertrude’s lips curved. “That sounds exactly what I would expect an older brother to do, and youwerebatting your lashes at Agent McParland.”
“Well, quite, but he’s the most delightful gentleman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and what good is having long lashes if I don’t ever get to bat them? As for Harrison, he may have been acting like a ridiculous older brother, but in my mind, he’s nothing but a traitor. Did I mention he also told my mother that I began speaking in a very sultry voiceandthat I was calling Agent McParland by his given name?”
“It’s somewhat sweet when you think about it,” Gertrude said, trying her best to swallow the laughter that kept bubbling up in her throat. “He’s just looking out for you.”
“I’m almost a spinster. And while Adelaide and Margaret seem perfectly content to embrace that unfortunate condition, I’d rather not spend the rest of my days surrounded only by women—no offense to the two of you—and a brother who I swear was put on this earth to torment me.”
Mrs. Davenport suddenly sat forward, her eyes sparkling. “We could always attempt to convince Miss Henrietta and Miss Mabel that it would be in your best interest to travel to Newport for the summer as we originally planned. Why, I’d still be more than happy to sponsor you into society. I would imagine you’d have offers from some of the most delectable society gentlemen the very second you’re presented.”
