As if he could feel his grandmother’s gaze, Oscar swiveledaround in the pew, sent Ethel a wave, then settled a scowl on Walter before he turned front and center again, presenting Walter with his back. It was a rather telling gesture and lent credence to the idea it was not only the feminine set who were put out with him on what should have been a serene Sunday morning at church.
“You might want to take Oscar aside after the service,” Gwendolyn said, drawing his attention. “The look he just sent you suggests he’s still offended you were unaware Sherman has been his best friend since the boys were five.” She leaned forward. “You might also consider taking him fishing at your earliest convenience since you additionally learned that’s a hobby Oscar enjoys.”
Walter frowned. “You heard him reject my offer to go fishing right before we entered the church.”
“He refused because you didn’t know he enjoyed fishing in the first place, nor did you know that Sherman’s father, Mr. Kenton, is the one who taught Oscar to fish. You were also less than proficient at hiding how incredulous you were to discover Oscar has plans to ride his bicycle over to Sherman’s cottage after services because Mrs. Kenton invited him to lunch.”
“I was incredulous because I had no idea Oscar knew how to ride a bicycle, or that he even owned one.”
“Which is why, in my humble opinion, you may want to, as you’re enjoying your yacht ride back to the city, take some time to reflect on how it came to be you know nothing about your elder son, including but not limited to his friends, his hobbies, and the real reason behind how he managed to fail all of his classes at that private preparatory school he was attending a mere month before classes dispersed for the summer. From what I’ve gathered about Oscar thus far, he’s remarkably intelligent.”
Walter shifted on the seat, the uncomfortable thought taking root that Gwendolyn had just voiced some valid points, andthat she wasn’t wrong in her assessment of his relationship with Oscar.
Hedidn’tknow his son, or the twins—something he’d never considered before because gentlemen of society weren’t expected to take an interest in their children until any sons reached their majority and were brought into family businesses.
Walter cleared his throat, but before he could get a word out, his mother sat forward.
“That will be quite enough, Miss Brinley,” Ethel said, her eyes flashing with temper. “While I understand you’ve suddenly found yourself in high demand, you’re merely Mrs. Parker’s assistant, and as such, you have no business reprimanding my son.” Ethel lifted her chin. “Nevertheless, since youareworking on his behalf, and he won’t listen to me about abandoning this absurd matchmaking fiasco, keep in mind that your only duty is to present eligible young ladies to him—something I’m not convinced you’re qualified to do, considering Miss Lowe was supposed to join us for the service, per your invitation, and yet she’s nowhere to be seen.”
Gwendolyn, to Walter’s surprise, merely smiled and inclined her head. “I would be more than happy to relinquish my role as Walter’s matchmaker, Mrs. Townsend. In fact, I was vehemently against Mrs. Parker’s sponsoring him in the first place but was overruled. Because of that, I have no reservations speaking my mind to your son. If you find that offensive, by all means, encourage him to part ways with me. You’d be doing me a favor, especially since Mrs. Parker, even knowing Walter is not going to be here for most of the Season, is still insistent about sponsoring him.”
With that, Gwendolyn sent him a rolling of the eyes, as if it were his fault his mother had taken to lecturing her, and returned her attention to Priscilla, who was now changing her doll’s dress.
Ethel and Matilda wasted no time bending their headstogether, clearly discussing Gwendolyn, even though the enclosed pew wasn’t that large, and Gwendolyn was certainly aware she was the topic of conversation.
Not that she seemed concerned about that considering her lips were curving the slightest bit, as if she’d decided her current situation was rather amusing.
In his opinion, an amused Gwendolyn was far less terrifying than an irritated one, although...
Before he could finish that thought, Gwendolyn rose to her feet. “Ah, there she is,” she said before she opened the half door to the pew and moved down the aisle, clearly to intercept Miss Cordelia Lowe, who was hurrying through the church.
“I certainly hope Miss Lowe has a reasonable excuse for why she’s so late,” Ethel said. “If she hopes to become a part of this family, she’ll need to remember her high standing in society, and what the expectations are with that standing—tardiness, of course, being unacceptable.”
Priscilla suddenly abandoned her interest in her doll and turned a face that had trouble stamped all over it his way.
“How would this Miss Lowe become part of the family?” she demanded as Samuel stopped fussing with his bag of toys and scooted closer to his sister.
Walter refused a sigh and prayed he wasn’t about to be thrust into a twin storm of epic proportions. “It’s far too premature to claim anyone is joining our family, but do try to behave yourself when Miss Lowe joins us. She’s a nice lady, and I imagine she’d love it if you’d allow her to help dress your doll.”
“Miss Brinley’s helping me.”
“But Miss Lowe might enjoy helping you as well.”
Priscilla’s lips thinned. “No.”
Before Walter could get a word out regarding the benefits of sharing, or including everyone in an activity, Gwendolyn was ushering Cordelia into the pew. Rising to his feet, he took hold of Cordelia’s hand, placed a kiss on it, then helped gether settled on the pew next to him while Gwendolyn retook her seat next to Priscilla.
“I must beg your pardon for being unforgivably late,” Cordelia said after Walter sat down beside her. “When I called for my carriage this morning, it was discovered it had a broken wheel.”
“Do you think someone deliberately tampered with it, such as someone who might have been miffed you were joining Walter for Sunday services?” Gwendolyn asked, a frown marring her face. “If that’s the case, I’ll arrange a meeting with everyone out this Season, because we need to nip this type of business in the bud once and for all.”
Cordelia blinked before her lips twitched. “While the mere mention of your calling a meeting would be enough to strike terror into anyone contemplating any shenanigans, I don’t believe my broken wheel was a result of tampering. It probably resulted after my driver rolled over a hole.” She smiled. “Besides that, I don’t know a lady in society who’d know how to go about intentionally breaking a wheel. Nor can I imagine anyone with skullduggery on their minds enlisting the aid of a servant, because servants talk amongst the houses.”
She turned her smile on Walter. “That’s why you were inundated with gifts for the children at Bailey’s Beach yesterday. Elizabeth Ellsworth was seen purchasing kites in town by a lady’s maid to another family, and it didn’t take long for word to travel. Not wanting to come up short, we ladies descended on the toy department in droves—except Suzette Tilden, of course. She managed to rustle up a pony, which is what I had to resort to rustling up today as well, after my broken wheel. I don’t take Daisy out much, because she’s slow as molasses, which is another reason I was late getting here.”
Priscilla suddenly settled an angelic smile on Cordelia, one Walter wasn’t buying for a moment.
“You have a girl pony?” Priscilla asked sweetly.
