Mr. Timken raised a hand to his chest. “Do not say you’re going to propose marriage again to our dear Miss Pierpont, something her parents have been angling to arrange for years.”
“Given what happened the one and only time I initiated the idea of marriage between us, no, that’s not what I have in mind.”
“I suppose broaching marriage, because I well recall what happened the last time you did that, might be a bit risky,” Mr. Timken muttered before he winced when the organ began playing in earnest again. “But no sense dawdling here with me. You have a proposition to present, and here’s hoping Miss Pierpont will be receptive to that, which should distract her from her music, at least for an hour or so. I’ll tell her you’re here.”
“I can see myself to the music room, Mr. Timken,” Gideon said. “You should go rescue the staff from the attic.”
After Mr. Timken inclined his head and they exchanged grins, Gideon headed down the hallway, stopping to give Gladys, Camilla’s poodle that everyone claimed to be a disgrace to her breed, a scratch. After earning a single wag of the pom at the end of her tail in return, Gideon continued until he reached the doorway of the music room, stopping just over the threshold as he took a moment to consider one of his oldest friends.
It wasn’t a surprise to find Camilla dressed in the first state of fashion as she continued playing the organ, wearing a morning gown of delicate silk, with a matching ribbon woven into her blond hair.
Camilla, of course, would never consider leaving her room in a state of dishabille, no matter if she was planning on staying in for the day or not. She was considered by everyone to be the consummate lady, schooled since birth in all the feminine arts and rules of etiquette. Because of that, she knew exactly what was expected of a lady born into a Knickerbocker family, and she’d striven to live up to the high standards of her family name.
She’d mastered a variety of musical instruments before she was ten, organ included, perfected the art of social conversation before she was twelve, and was known to be one of the most beautiful and charming ladies to ever grace the Four Hundred.
Deemed an Incomparable when she’d made her debut at seventeen, Camilla hadn’t lacked for suitors, although Gideon had not been in New York when she’d officially entered high society. He’d been traveling the world, working for the newly formed Naval Intelligence Agency, but he’d received letters from Camilla giving him updates, although the delivery of her letters had been sporadic. That was why he’d been unaware of a catastrophe in the making that developed during Camilla’s first Season—one that was set into motion when Camilla made the acquaintance of George Sherrington, or rather the Earl of Shrewsbury.
She’d fallen madly in love with him at first sight, and Lord Shrewsbury proclaimed, at least according to Camilla, that he returned that sentiment. However, disaster was imminent after Camilla told her parents she’d found her true love. Hubert Pierpont, Camilla’s father, had taken one look at George Sherrington and had seen him for exactly what he was—a fortune hunter. He’d then refused George’s request for Camilla’s hand in marriage, which had resulted with Camilla doing something she’d never done in her life.
She’d rebelled.
She informed her father she was going to marry George anyway, even after Hubert told her he would not give so much as a single penny of her dowry to a man he considered a complete and utter scoundrel.
Being madly in love, Camilla opted for love over fortune, erroneously believing Lord Shrewsbury would, of course, be of the same mind and wouldn’t blink an eye over marrying her even though she would come into the marriage penniless.
Unfortunately, Lord Shrewsbury’s response had been exactly what one would expect from a fortune hunter.
Once he discovered marriage to Camilla would not see his coffers sufficiently plumped up, George informed her that, regrettably and without his knowledge, his mother had arrangedfor him to marry another society lady, Miss Eleonora Deerhurst. Miss Deerhurst had been out four Seasons, and her father had not thought twice about offering Lord Shrewsbury a substantial fortune to marry his daughter, especially when it allowed the Deerhurst family to not only get Eleonora finally married off but also allowed them the privilege of adding an aristocratic title to their family tree.
What Gideon found most repulsive about the situation, though, was that instead of admitting to Camilla that her greatest allure for him had been her money, Lord Shrewsbury told her that she was the love of his life and would always be his one and only, but as a true gentleman, he was honor-bound to marry Miss Deerhurst since their engagement announcement had already been sent off to the papers.
From the letters Gideon received from Camilla after the fact, she was heartbroken as well as furious with her parents. She’d vowed then and there to never marry, unwilling to put her heart in jeopardy ever again, even though she was an only child, and as such, her parents’ only hope for continuing the Pierpont bloodline.
Camilla hadn’t batted an eye over that, content to allow the Pierpont lineage to die with her, no matter how much that thought distressed her parents.
Hubert Pierpont had been determined to change Camilla’s mind and had even gone so far as to approach Gideon to try and convince him that he, being one of Camilla’s closest friends, should consider marrying Camilla.
Even though Gideon had been in no position to take on a wife, what with how he was never in the country, he’d not been able to refuse Hubert’s proposal because Camilla had clearly been suffering, and he couldn’t abide seeing her in such a sorry state.
His offer of marriage had not gone well.
Camilla had thanked him very prettily for extending hersuch an honor—right before she’d punched him, which had been completely unexpected. She told him to discontinue with the ridiculousness of thinking she’d ever want to marry a man she considered a brother, having practically grown up with him since their respective brownstones abutted each other in the city and their Hudson family estates were less than a quarter mile apart.
That had been the last time they’d ever spoken of a marriage between them.
A wrong note bellowing from the organ snapped Gideon from his memories, his lips curving when Camilla released what almost sounded like a grunt before she lifted her fingers and then, to his complete astonishment, banged her head against the organ keys, the horrible sound that was subsequently produced leaving the windows trembling.
“Having an enjoyable morning, I see,” he said, advancing into the room as Camilla’s head shot up, her forehead now sporting red marks across it from pounding her head against the ivories.
“Gideon. I wasn’t expecting you this morning,” Camilla said, rising gracefully to her feet and gliding over to meet him, giving him her hand, which he dutifully kissed.
“I hope you don’t mind the unannounced visit.”
“You know I always enjoy your company, and it’s not as if you interrupted anything of importance.” She grimaced. “Did you hear me make a muck of that last stanza?”
“Would it be ungentlemanly of me to admit I did?”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Well, don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation as a great musical proficient to uphold.”
