According to Cynthia, Mrs. Nelson gave Adelaide a blisteringdressing-down regarding the inadvisability of feeding bread to her swans in the first place, since they maintained a specific diet fed to them by her staff. She then launched into a tirade about how careless it had been for Adelaide to give her esteemed guests a glimpse of her unmentionables, which Mrs. Nelson emphatically stated had been well beyond the pale. After that, she accused Adelaide of ruining her dinner party, especially given that the entertainment for the evening, that being the incomparable Sophia Campanini, had departed in high dudgeon. Mrs. Nelson had then finished her rant by demanding Adelaide leave her estate posthaste before additional foolishness could occur.
Such a demand evidently didn’t go over well with Adelaide’s mother. Phyllis apparently rose magnificently to her daughter’s defense, delivering a scorching diatribe to Mrs. Nelson regarding etiquette as it pertains to one’s guests. She then took to delivering her own dressing-down, chiding Mrs. Nelson over having the audacity to blame Adelaide for the sorry behavior of savage swans, which, in Phyllis’s opinion, had no business being given access to a fountain where any innocent guest could have been accosted.
Cynthia’s eyes had widened at that point in the conversation before she’d disclosed that Mrs. Nelson, at the suggestion her swans were savage, began swelling up like a hot air balloon. Before she had the opportunity to explode, though, Phyllis whisked a soggy Adelaide over to a waiting carriage, along with a waterlogged and severely tattered Charles Wetzel, and off they trundled from the Nelson estate.
It was clear that Adelaide’s misadventure, which had been carried out in service to him, was going to keep the tongues wagging for months to come, which meant . . .
He owed her.
That was exactly why he was now at Miss Camilla Pierpont’s Hudson estate, hoping his very good friend would be willing to extend him a rather large favor.
“Mr. Abbott, good morning, sir. Miss Pierpont didn’t mention you were expected today.”
Stepping around Zeus, Gideon discovered Freddie, one of Camilla’s grooms, standing a few feet away, warily eyeing Zeus, the wariness increasing when Zeus released a snort and tossed his head.
“It’s an unscheduled visit, Freddie,” Gideon returned. “But the morning was beckoning, and since Zeus enjoys a brisk gallop, I decided to ride him over here.”
“Dare I hope that galloping left Zeus in an amicable frame of mind?” Freddie asked.
“I’ve never experienced Zeus being anything other than ornery, gallop or not, but we can always hope.”
“That we can,” Freddie agreed with a quirk of his lips. “He does have a certain charm, though, which is why I know I speak for all the grooms employed on the Pierpont estate when I say we always relish the opportunities to tussle with Zeus whenever you come to call on Miss Pierpont.” He squared his shoulders and moved to take the reins from Gideon. “I’ll get Zeus settled in a stall, perhaps bribe him with a few apples, and pray for the best.”
As Freddie led Zeus away, although it was hardly an encouraging sign when Zeus began nickering in a menacing fashion, Gideon headed for the house. He was greeted at the front door by Mr. Timken, the Pierponts’ butler, who was already holding the door open for him.
“Mr. Abbott, what a pleasant surprise,” Mr. Timken began in a rather loud voice, obviously done to be heard over the organ music that was all but shaking the walls. “Miss Pierpont will be delighted to see you, as will the rest of the staff because...” He took Gideon’s hat and leaned close. “She’s playing ‘Toccata et Fugue’ this morning.”
“An interesting choice to start any day.”
“Or morose,” Mr. Timken countered. “But it’s better thanwhat she was playing before this selection, which was Chopin’s Nocturnes. That left half the staff in tears.”
“An unfortunate circumstance, to be sure.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Timken agreed. “I sent everyone to do a touch of cleaning up to the attic since it’s far enough removed from the music room to where the songs Miss Pierpont is choosing are a little muffled.” He leaned closer. “I’m hopeful, given that nothing seems to keep her attention for long these days, that she’ll decide to spend a few hours painting by the river, although painting is hardly going to stave off the ennui she’s been suffering of late.”
“Camilla’s finding life on the Hudson dull?”
“It’s my belief Miss Pierpont is finding life in general tedious, but I believe she may have experienced some excitement last night. She mentioned something about utter pandemonium at Mrs. Nelson’s dinner party.” Mr. Timken caught Gideon’s eye. “Talk around the breakfast table between Miss Pierpont and her aunt Edna, or rather Mrs. Robinson, revolved around a Miss Adelaide Duveen.”
Gideon suppressed a shudder. “What did they say happened?”
“I’m afraid the conversation was cut short when Camilla stated she was going to spend the morning playing the organ and Mrs. Robinson suddenly remembered a scheduled engagement. She then all but bolted out of the dining room and departed from the house ten minutes later.”
“Probably a prudent decision on Edna’s part.”
“Quite, since it spared her a morning filled with mournful musical choices.” Mr. Timken shook his head. “Unfortunately, I don’t believe pursuing less-than-adventurous activities will alleviate Miss Pierpont’s boredom. However, now that you’re here, and since she values your counsel, you might want to consider suggesting she take on a young lady to sponsor during the upcoming Season. She’s neglected to dabble in her matchmakingefforts of late, which I believe is one of the reasons for her ennui.”
“It’s doubtful I’ll be successful convincing Camilla to return to matchmaking,” Gideon said. “She’s been extremely vocal regarding what she considers a spectacular failure with her efforts regarding Miss Leonie Warwick, otherwise known as Lady Westward these days. Add in the notion that Camilla was also disgruntled over the attitude of society ladies on the marriage mart this past summer in Newport, and I’m relatively certain she’s abandoned all interest in matchmaking pursuits.”
Mr. Timken glanced up at the chandelier in the entranceway and winced when it began rattling, undoubtedly because Camilla had reached a particularly robust section of the song. “I don’t know why she’d consider a match between Miss Leonie Warwick and an earl to be a failure,” he shouted.
“Camilla doesn’t believe Leonie held any affection for Lord Westward and only married him because he’s an aristocrat,” Gideon yelled back.
“Miss Pierpont does pride herself on making love matches,” Mr. Timken returned. “Still, I witnessed Lady Westward driving through the streets of New York after the wedding ceremony with her new husband and she looked downright ecstatic to me.”
Thankfully, the chandelier stopped rattling when the volume suddenly decreased as Camilla reached a new stanza.
“Camilla would say Lady Westward only looked that way because she procured a coveted title, whereas Camilla wanted her to secure a match steeped in affection.” Gideon smiled. “You’ll be pleased to learn, though, that I’m here today because I have a proposition to present to Camilla, one that could see her boredom set aside for the foreseeable future.”
