Suzette’s cheeks suddenly turned rather pink as she settled a small smile on Thurman. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for us to have a private discussion. There’s no question we’re compatible, but ... I never considered that might be a precursor to something more than friendship.”
Thurman’s eyes began to gleam. “I’ve considered it a time or two but never felt as if you’d want to explore a deeper relationship with me.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to doing a little ... exploring.”
In the span of a heartbeat, Thurman was holding fast to Suzette’s arm, and together they quit the parlor without another word, although the smiles on their faces were rather telling.
“This is turning into a most riveting morning,” Adelaide said, fanning her face. “And good show, Gwendolyn. I think you’re exactly right about the two of them.”
“Thank you, Adelaide,” Gwendolyn said before she lookedaround the room and settled her sights on Russell Damrosch, who shot a longing look to the parlor door, seemed to consider bolting out of it, but then squared his shoulders and returned his attention to Gwendolyn.
“I take it I’m next?” he asked.
“Indeed, because you are, after all, another gentleman Mrs. Parker took on and then left me to find you a suitable match. Allow me to apologize in advance for what I’m about to say, because you’ll probably find it insulting, given the less than positive attributes I’ve concluded about your character. But do know I have a reason for pointing them out.”
“What negative qualities could you possibly have concluded about me?” Russell demanded.
“You’re far too competitive and you lack sensitivity.”
“Being competitive is not a deficiency,” Russell argued.
“Perhaps not in your opinion, but your heightened competitiveness is the reason I told Mrs. Parker not to sponsor you. And that very nature was evidently aroused when I told you I didn’t want to find you a match, which was what clearly led you to offering Mrs. Parker a bauble she couldn’t resist.”
“But you didn’t find me a match,” Russell pointed out. “And Mrs. Parker doesn’t have your notes, incomplete as they apparently are, so she doesn’t know if you encountered a lady who would be a match for me.”
Gwendolyn’s toe began tapping against the Aubusson carpet. “Iwouldhave found you a match if I’d not been fired, because I have the perfect candidate in mind for you. With that said, what I’m about to divulge should be considered fulfillment of Mrs. Parker’s contract with you.”
“I’m listening,” Russell began. “Who is she?”
Gwendolyn nodded to Tillie Wickham, who blinked even as her mouth went agape. “Miss Wickham, of course. The two of you are equally overly competitive, that proven when you both seemed to believe it was acceptable to target childrenwhile playing Annie Over. And while I could point out other similarities you share, I don’t think it would be kind of me to do so, and whenever possible I do try to not ruffle feathers.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I suggest the two of you follow Suzette and Thurman’s lead and remove yourself from the parlor to find a secluded place to engage in a chat, or perhaps an arm-wrestling match or something of that nature. The winner could get the prize of deciding when and where you should wed.” She waggled her fingers toward the door. “Off you go.”
Amusement was swift when Russell glanced at Tillie—who was looking at him as if she were sizing him up against the competition, although there really wasn’t any competition to be had in the parlor—took hold of her arm, and strode from the room, Tillie matching his every stride.
“I wish you both the best,” Gwendolyn called after them before she turned her attention to the room again. “I have to admit I don’t have any ready-made matches for the rest of you, but I’d be more than happy to hash over any grievances you care to level against me.”
Fresh amusement swept through her when everyone except Cordelia Lowe, Frank Lambert, and Daniel Mizner, who’d been lurking unnoticed in the back of the room, turned on their heels and bolted out of the parlor.
Thirty-Five
“It’s incredibly impressive how you’ve gotten that whole intimidation business down,” Adelaide said, wincing when the fan she was still plying smacked her in the nose. She tossed it aside as Cordelia Lowe stepped front and center.
“With the departure of those ladies who had little hope you took notice of them because they weren’t often seen in your company,” Cordelia began, “what say we get down to what my role should have been with Walter. May I assume, if you’d not decided to try your hand at stealing him away from the serious contenders, I could have expected to become the next Mrs. Walter Townsend? I was, after all, one of the ladies who spent the most time with him.”
She took a step toward Gwendolyn and considered her for a moment. “If you admit Iwasthe lady you had in mind for Walter, you could leave Newport with a clear conscience because you would be fulfilling the last of your obligations to Mrs. Parker by securing a match for the final gentleman she agreed to sponsor this Season.”
“Mrs. Parker is still representing me,” Frank Lambert said, drawing everyone’s attention.
Cordelia released what almost sounded like a snort. “Please. You, Mr. Lambert, are the very definition of nouveau riche. While you may have an abundance of funds at your disposal, what you need to understand is this—no self-respecting lady of the New York Four Hundred will give you the time of day.” She then settled an eye on Daniel Mizner. “And forgive me for my continued bluntness, Mr. Mizner, but I, along with Miss Brinley, I’m sure, do not even understand why you’re here.”
Daniel scratched his nose. “I have no idea why you’re taking that snippy tone with me, Miss Lowe. But to answer your question, I’m here because I’m hopeful that before Miss Brinley departs Newport she can point me in the direction of one of the ladies she spent time with while in Newport.” He returned his attention to Gwendolyn. “May I dare hope you have someone in mind for me, someone of high social standing and...”
“A substantial fortune?” Cordelia finished for him when Daniel faltered, earning a scowl from Daniel, which she addressed by giving a languid wave of her hand. “There’s no reason for feigned outrage, Mr. Mizner. You must know you have little chance of securing an alliance with a member of the upper crust. Everyone is aware you’re a habitual gambler, and it’s also known you tend to align yourself with questionable business partners. It’s no mystery you’re in Newport this Season looking for an heiress, probably because your parents have limited your access to their fortune—done, no doubt, because of those questionable characters you mingle with.”
“That’s enough, Miss Lowe,” Gwendolyn said, earning a glare from Cordelia and a small smile from Mr. Mizner.
“Thank you for that, Miss Brinley,” Daniel said. “I realized from the moment I met you that you’re a remarkable woman, only turning down my request of sponsorship because you obviously realized the difficulty you would face securing me an alliance, what with how ridiculous society ladies have turned out to be, believing rumors without any proof. With that said,can you suggest a lady or two, or perhaps even three, who might not have been privy to these horrid rumors and would give me—a gentleman with the best intentions at heart—a chance at earning their love?”
