Gwendolyn began moseying around the kitchen, lifting a lid on a bowl that had crabcakes nestled inside. “Walter made a valid point on Sunday,” she began, returning the lid and moving on to a large tureen that held some type of shrimp soup. “He told me I wasn’t putting much effort into his situation, and he was right. I’d allowed myself to become distracted with the concerns of other gentlemen.”
She abandoned the soup and turned to Ethel. “That’s whyI spent the last few days speaking with as many ladies as I could, running them down in the shops on Bellevue Avenue, sitting beside them at numerous outside cafés, and mingling with them at the evening festivities. The only problem with all that, though, is I’m not discovering very much about these ladies, because all they want me to know is that they’ll make excellent mothers, which hasn’t exactly been helpful.”
“How is that not helpful? Walter’s main priority is to provide the children with a mother,” Ethel said.
“True, but all the potential candidates are now focusing on that one requirement, trying to convince me their greatest ambition in life is to become mothers. With that said, I’ve yet to be convinced any of these ladies are qualified to become an instant stepmother, because no one seems to want to expand on their maternal instincts when I question them.”
“You’ve been questioning society ladies about their maternal instincts?”
“How else would I be able to point Walter in the right direction?”
“But they’re society. They don’t learn maternal matters at any of the finishing schools they’ve attended.”
“Perhaps not, but one would think they’d at least expand on any experience they may have with children. I’m not a mother, but I have younger siblings, and because of that, I’m comfortable dealing with the idiosyncrasies of youth. I imagine most of these ladies have siblings, or at least young cousins, but not once has anyone mentioned that to me. When you add that in with how I haven’t been able to get Walter to tell me anything about what he expects in a wife except he would like to rub along nicely with her, I had no choice but to rethink my tactics. That’s why I need to speak with the children.”
Ethel scratched her nose. “Why do I get the distinct impression you’re not happy about Walter’s only requirement in a potential wife?”
“Walter should expect more, and I’ve decided I’m going to find that more for him.”
“But Walter and Vivian simply enjoyed a somewhat distant relationship, and neither of them seemed bothered by that in the least.” Ethel took a step closer. “And while it’s commendable you’re hoping to find something more for my son, Walter is not an overly emotional gentleman. He takes after his father, Thomas, in that regard. He’s also consumed with business, which means a lady who might hold him in great affection will find herself disappointed with their marriage because Walter won’t make himself readily available, especially if he’s in the midst of a new investment venture.”
“But that might change if he meets a lady hebegins to hold in great affection,” Gwendolyn countered.
Ethel released a sigh. “I’m not convinced he’s capable of that, dear. Walter, again, is exactly like his father. He’s quiet, introspective, and doesn’t enjoy frivolities much. He’s been that way forever. After he became betrothed to Vivian, when I asked him if he was in love with her, he insisted he didn’t believe in that type of nonsense. He then went on to tell me he and Vivian had an understanding. She would become one of the most sought-after society matrons because of her marriage to him, and he would get a beautiful wife who wouldn’t demand much of his time, and who would be content building up their social status, providing him with an heir, and making use of his fortune however she saw fit.”
“That seems like a rather macabre approach to marriage,” Gwendolyn said.
“It’s how we do things in society. Great affection is rarely seen. Although I have been surprised by the two love matches that have already occurred this season—that between Mr. Higgenson and Mrs. Lanier, and then again with Mr. E.J. Boettcher and Miss Frances Bottleworth.” She caught Gwendolyn’s eye. “But don’t get your hopes up you’ll achieve that type of successwith Walter. As I said, he’s an exact replica of Thomas, and while Thomas and I have been married thirty-four years, we’re one of those numerous couples who merely rub along nicely together.”
“And you’re comfortable with that?”
Ethel shrugged. “I had no romantic expectations when I married him. Thomas was considered quite the catch, and he and I rarely share a cross word between us, although that’s probably due to the fact we’re rarely in the same city at the same time. He, before you ask, is spending the summer in Scotland, finalizing some sort of wool or sheep deal Walter arranged.”
“Your family is investing in sheep?”
“I’m not certain. I don’t concern myself with the business aspect of the Townsend family. I do recall Walter mentioning something about high-grade wool he thought would be a sound investment.”
“I’ll have to introduce him to my mother, because she raises sheep and produces a grade of wool that’s becoming much sought after.”
Ethel blinked. “Your mother raises sheep?”
“Indeed,” Gwendolyn said. “It’s been her interest of choice for the past several years. She and my father now have over eight hundred sheep on their farm. Truth be told, Mother was rather put out to learn I was coming to Newport for the summer because she wanted me to help with the last of the shearing for the season.”
“You know how to shear sheep?”
Gwendolyn grinned. “When your mother raises sheep for her pet project, yes, you learn how to shear.”
Ethel returned the grin. “You’re an unconventional woman, Miss Brinley, and perhaps ahead of your time. I don’t know many women who would admit to knowing they can shear sheep, or women who don’t hesitate to take charge of situations, as can be seen by how you’re managing Walter’s quest tofind a suitable wife.” Her grin faded. “But forgive me. I hope I didn’t offend you by calling you unconventional. That’s not a term most ladies enjoy being labeled.”
“No offense taken,” Gwendolyn assured her. “I decided when I reached my majority that I wasn’t going to embrace the traditional roles expected of women, much to my parents’ concern. They thought, given how I’ve always adored spending time with my younger siblings, I would set my sights on a gentleman and get down to the business of raising a family of my own.”
She brushed aside a strand of hair tickling her cheek. “I, however, wanted to explore more of what the world had to offer. An opportunity to do that presented itself when my cousin needed a change of scenery. Becoming her paid companion allowed me to travel extensively while not having the restrictions placed on most young ladies, since I was, in essence, considered the help.”
“And your parents didn’t object to that?”
“I’m sure they had misgivings, but they also realized my cousin needed me, as well as realized I was being given a chance to chase my dreams. To their credit, they sent me off with their blessings.”
Ethel tilted her head. “Have you ever regretted your decision, especially when you must know that women who reach a certain age are usually considered firmly on the shelf with few prospects of ever forming a match?”
