“Why are you taking it upon yourself to tell us this?” Tillie demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is it a ploy to get us to abandon our interest in Mr. Townsend so you can promote the two ladies everyone has recently learned Mrs. Parker is sponsoring—those being Miss Ellsworth and Miss Howe?”
Gwendolyn plucked a strand of seaweed from her cheek. “I doubt you’re going to believe me, but my advice is not a ploy. It’smerely a favor I’m doing for Mr. Townsend because he appears somewhat mortified by how his day is unfolding. Mortified is not a result I’m sure any of you were hoping to achieve, but far be it from me to try to lend any of you my counsel.”
She sent a wave in Walter’s direction. “Feel free to continue to monopolize his time, give his children gifts, and even try your hand at drowning. Although you may want to wait to flail in the ocean another day, since there’s a good chance, if too many of you attempt that all at once, one of you may very well drown because there won’t be enough available gentlemen to rescue you.”
With that, Gwendolyn turned and began striding away, unsurprised when mutters immediately commenced. Blowing out a breath, she realized there was every chance ladies would now do their utmost best to make her stay in Newport as unpleasant as possible. And the unpleasantness was certain to increase once they realized she was determined to help Mrs. Parker make the most spectacular matches of the Season for Elizabeth and Hannah, if only to prove to Walter he was completely off the mark about her matchmaking skills, or lack thereof.
Ten
That Gwendolyn Brinley was an unusual woman wasn’t up for debate, but even though Walter was convinced she was the bane of his existence, there was no denying he admired her competency. As a man of business, he valued competency, and while he didn’t know what Gwendolyn had said to the ladies gathered at Bailey’s Beach, he now found himself in the company of merely three women, all due to the intervention of a lady who’d sent him a wink in passing before she’d strolled past him on her way to have a tête-à-tête with Clarence Higgenson.
“I’m so grateful you didn’t incur any injuries from your heroic saving of Miss Brinley,” Tillie cooed as she sidled next to him. “What that woman was thinking, going after that child when she couldn’t swim, well, I’m sure I have no idea.Icertainly wouldn’t be so foolish as to throw myself into the ocean, especially not when there’s a storm rolling in and I’d be putting the lives of whatever gentlemen felt compelled to rescue me in jeopardy.”
“My dear Miss Wickham, you know you’re only saying that because Miss Brinley suggested none of us follow her lead and take to the ocean in the hopes someone would jump in after us,” Cordelia Lowe said, settling eyes still ringed with shadesof green and yellow on Tillie. “With that said, I would hope, if a childweredrowning, all of us would do what was needed to save that child without a second’s hesitation.”
“But that boy wasn’t even drowning,” Tillie argued.
Cordelia gave a flutter of her lashes. “Thatboyis Mr. Townsend’s son Oscar, and his other two children would be Priscilla and...” She shot a glance to Elizabeth Ellsworth. “Were we in agreement his other son is Stanley?”
“I believe the general consensus was Samuel,” Elizabeth said, casting a warm smile Walter’s way before she returned her attention to Tillie and Cordelia. “With that settled, may I suggest the two of you seek out a bit of shade because it seems as if there’s an edge of contentiousness to the current conversation. I daresay the sweltering heat is responsible for that, but I’m afraid you’re making Mr. Townsend uncomfortable.”
“I believe you may be right, Miss Ellsworth,” Cordelia agreed as she stepped closer to Walter. “Forgive us, Mr. Townsend. I certainly never meant to cause you any discomfort.”
“There’s no need to apologize, Miss Lowe,” Walter began. “I assure you, I haven’t taken offense.”
“How gracious of you,” Tillie said, edging closer to him, which resulted in her edging out Cordelia. “Allow me to redirect the conversation to something less contentious. While you’ve assured us you didn’t suffer any repercussions from saving Miss Brinley, may I dare hope the same for Mr. Higgenson?”
Before Walter could respond, Cordelia wiggled between him and Tillie, craned her neck, and gestured to something in the distance. “It appears Mr. Higgenson is in fine form, considering he’s now engaged in what appears to be an intense discussion with Miss Brinley.”
Walter turned to where Cordelia was gesturing and discovered Gwendolyn and Clarence sitting in the shade of the boulder, their heads together and looking quite oblivious to anything around them.
Tillie sucked in a sharp breath. “On my word but I now find myself wondering if Miss Brinley’s drowning was intentional, a ploy, if you will, conceived by Mrs. Parker to assure her assistant matchmaker received some unbridled attention from one of the most eligible bachelors of the Season.”
“If it was,” Cordelia said, “it was a very clever ploy on Mrs. Parker’s part.”
Tillie’s jaw set. “That’s hardly fair. I know for fact Mrs. Nelson, my sponsor this Season, will not appreciate learning about the underhanded tactics Mrs. Parker is using to give her charges an unfair advantage on the marriage mart.”
Cordelia released a snort, causing Elizabeth to begin eyeing her quite like she’d lost her mind, as if snorting was taking matters too far, even though the conversation at large had taken on an unexpected and slightly contentious tone. “As if Mrs. Nelson didn’t encourage you, Miss Wickham, to sabotage my prospects this Season by smashing a tennis ball into my face.”
Tillie’s eyes flashed with temper. “I didn’t intentionally hit you, and I resent your suggesting otherwise. Perhaps you should strive to improve your tennis game. Because that, and that alone, was responsible for you taking a ball to the face.”
“You know I’m a formidable player, just as you know you deliberately took that shot when I was distracted by a duck that unexpectedly flew across the court.”
Not wanting to be swept up in a drama he never imagined he’d be a witness to between society ladies from two of the oldest upper-crust families in the country, Walter took a few experimental steps backward, pivoted on his heel, and when no one tried to stop him, strode off down the beach, moving at a pace just shy of a run. He made it a good fifty feet before he noticed Clarence charging across the sand and disappearing around a bathing hut a moment later.
Walter’s gaze darted to Gwendolyn, who was calmly dusting sand from her bathing costume, quite as if the conversationshe’d just shared with Clarence had not sent him dashing away from her.
Curiosity prodded him in her direction.
“What did you do to poor Clarence?” he asked when he reached her side.
She stopped dusting herself off and wrinkled her nose. “There’s no need to take that tone with me, Walter. It’s not as if I did anything dastardly to the man.”
“He just raced across the beach as if a pack of wild animals was chasing him.”
She bent over, plucked a seashell from the sand, looked it over, then tucked it into her pocket. “His rate of speed only goes to prove how anxious he was to rectify a grave mistake he made, one concerning Mrs. Lanier, ordarling Micheleas he prefers to call her.”
“Oh no, you didn’t ...?”
