“About two years,” Owen said. “Mother adores Paris and has taken to painting along the Siene, and somehow convinced Father he loves to paint as well. From their letters, they spend their days with their easels set up, and then enjoy dining in Parisian restaurants most nights. Since Father hasn’t had a single episode with his heart since they arrived in France, Mother’s decided they’re going to stay there for the foreseeable future.”
“Which is lovely for your parents, but have you told them about the difficulties you’re experiencing with your sister?”
“And have them board the first ship available and return home? Absolutely not.” He blew out a breath. “Frankly, I thought Luella would return to her normal delightful self after Mother wasn’t around to badger her, but she now seems convinced that my sole purpose in life is to make her miserable, arriving at that decision after I made the mistake of suggesting we hold a small party for her instead of a ball.” He shook his head. “In my defense, though, I was under the misimpression she wanted to make some type of debut because every other young lady of the same age was doing exactly that, and I didn’t want her to feel left out.”
“Is that why you want me to take her in hand—to convince her to allow you to host that party for her because you’re still worried she feels left out?”
“I think the whole launching Luella into Wheeling society is a ship that’s firmly sailed.” He released a sigh. “However, given what recently happened to my sister, I’d like to bring you on board to help her become more refined, which might help her regain her pride, something Stanley Murchendorfer recently harmed.”
“This Murchendorfer name seems to be coming up often, and if I were to hazard a guess, I’d guess this Stanley Murchendorfer is a relation of Ada Mae and Sally Murchendorfer.”
Owen nodded. “Your guess would be correct since he’s Ada Mae’s only son and Sally’s brother, but he’s a scoundrel of the worst sort, who, regrettably, masqueraded as Luella’s good friend for years.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t intervene when your sister began associating with a scoundrel.”
“Stanley wasn’t always a scoundrel. That’s a recent development,” Owen said. “He’s three years older than Luella, and because the Murchendorfer home on Wheeling Island is adjacent to our home there, he and my sister used to roam the island together throughout their youth.”
“Luella didn’t prefer roaming around with Sally?”
“Sally doesn’t roam, but Stanley, on the other hand, enjoys the same activities Luella does. That’s why they spent hours together in their youth.” Owen rose to his feet and moved to look out the window. “I was always aware they were good friends, but what I didn’t know until recently was that they had an understanding between them, one that lent Luella the impression they’d always be together.”
“As in married?”
“Indeed, and apparently after Stanley finished college.”
“Should I assume Stanley recently completed his studies?”
“Their timeline got disrupted after Stanley’s father, who owns Murchendorfer Stogies, a prominent cigar factory in Wheeling, insisted his son take a grand tour of Europe after graduation.”
“And something unfortunate happened when Stanley finally returned from his tour?”
“Quite right, because Stanley, you see, couldn’t even be bothered to send Luella a note informing her of his return. She had to hear it through the staff grapevine because, while we own a house on Wheeling Island, which again, is directly next to the Murchendorfer house, Luella prefers to stay at our grandmother’s cabin that’s located not far from the country house that’s just recently been completed. According to Mrs. O’Connel, our part-time housekeeper, she noticed Stanley walking through the neighborhood. Knowing how much Luella had been looking forward to reuniting with him, Mrs. O’Connel sent a message to her. Luella didn’t hesitate to jump on her horse and canter right on down to WheelingIsland, apparently taking a shortcut to get there, which had her arriving at Stanley’s house covered in mud and looking, from what Luella admitted to me, somewhat bedraggled. Unfortunately, Stanley’s mother had arranged for an afternoon soiree, which was in full swing by the time Luella, who’d not been invited, arrived.”
Owen raked a hand through his hair. “Luella was then told by the Murchendorfer butler to wait on the front porch, not even given the courtesy of being allowed into the entranceway. She apparently lingered there for a good twenty minutes before Stanley showed up. From what I understand, Stanley immediately launched into a tirade, telling my poor sister that it was ‘beyond the pale’ for her to arrive unannounced at a gathering she’d not received an invitation to. He then demanded she leave and return to our grandmother’s cabin, telling her he’d call on her in a day or so to discuss the subject of their friendship more thoroughly.”
“Did he show up within a day or so?”
“It took him two weeks to pay a call, during which time Luella never said a word to me about what happened. When Stanley finally mustered up his courage, he tracked Luella down at her favorite creek, obviously done so because he’s terrified of our grandmother, and informed my sister that he’d matured during his time away and that he’d been fortunate to glean an air of sophistication while traveling throughout Europe. That sophistication evidently had him realizing that he could no longer associate with the likes of Luella because she, according to Stanley, gave new meaning to the termunrefined. He then told her that he couldn’t afford to be seen in her company anymore because she was an embarrassment and would ruin his chances of cementing his status within Wheeling society.”
Owen shook his head. “Luella, evidently still cherishing Stanley’s friendship, responded to all that idiocy by informing him that she could easily transform herself into a most refined young lady. After she was done telling him that, though, events took a somewhat disastrous turn because Stanley’s reply to Luella’s heartfelt declaration was to laugh.”
“He didn’t,” Camilla breathed.
“Oh, I’m very much afraid he did.”
“What was Luella’s response?” Camilla forced herself to ask.
“She punched him.”
Camilla blinked. “Surely you meant to say she slapped him, didn’t you?”
“Luella wouldn’t waste her time delivering anyone a mere slap, Miss Pierpont,” Owen admitted. “And because I may have shown my sister the rudiments of boxing a few years back, she knows her way around a good punch, so ... she broke Stanley’s nose.”
Five
Camilla got up from the settee and made her way to the French doors, her gaze traveling over the back lawn and lingering on the river she’d recently been submerged in, needing a moment to contemplate what Owen had just disclosed about his sister.
She’d never met a lady who’d broken anyone’s nose, and that Luella had managed to accomplish that, well—it suggested she was far more than “a bit of a handful.”
