“I have a lot of money.”
“So do I, but even if I didn’t, as a man, it would be, as I think you would say, quite beyond the pale for me to take money from a lady. It’s just not something a real man should ever do.”
For the briefest of seconds, Camilla merely gazed back at him, something interesting flickering through her eyes, until she smiled, and not just any smile, but a genuine one.
All the air seemed to get sucked out of the Pullman car because, while he hadn’t neglected to notice that Miss Camilla Pierpont was a beautiful woman, since he was a man, after all, when she smiled like the way she currently was, she was beyond beautiful and was also the most captivating lady he’d ever met, but one who, unfortunately, was far above the reach of a man like him.
Eight
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Chesterfield, but are you alright?”
Owen gave himself a bit of a shake, which resulted in air returning to his lungs, and after drawing in a deep breath, he discovered that Camilla was no longer smiling at him, but watching him rather warily.
“I’m quite alright, Miss Pierpont. Why do you ask?” he finally managed to get out of his mouth.
“You were looking somewhat ... odd.”
He settled back against the seat. “I suppose that was on account of you smiling at me.”
“You found it odd that I would smile at you?”
“Well, after telling you I was offended, sure.”
She blew out a breath. “Then I must beg your pardon yet again because I certainly wasn’t amused over offending you. I was more along the lines of surprised by how I offended you, as well as taken aback by a realization that struck me from out of the blue.”
“A realization?”
“Quite right, and one that has to do with you calling yourself a man.”
He frowned. “I didn’t realize that was in question.”
Her lips immediately curved. “It’s not, and I’m making a muddleof this, so before I make everything completely muddled, allow me to simply say this. You called yourself a man, but you’re mistaken, because what I’ve just realized is that you’re a gentleman in every sense of the word, and you should refer to yourself as that from this point forward.”
“I’ve never claimed to be a gentleman because I’m lacking some basic gentlemanly manners.”
“Just because you might be a little rough around the edges doesn’t prevent you from being a gentleman, Mr. Chesterfield. The very idea that you refuse to accept money from a lady speaks volumes about your character, and know that I truly did not mean to offend you. That I apparently did so, whether unintentional or not, demands that I beg your pardon yet again.”
Warmth began traveling up his neck to settle on his face, and unable to remember a time when anyone had made him blush, something that didn’t seem very gentlemanly at all, Owen ducked his head and took to giving El Cid another scratch. “There’s no need to apologize again, Miss Pierpont, although I can’t help but wonder now if you actually know any gentlemen who’d take money from you?”
She opened her mouth, but before she could get more than an “Ah” out, Mr. Timken walked through the door of the Pullman car, the butler having made it a habit never to leave Camilla alone in Owen’s company for more than ten minutes.
“Were you aware that Bernadette has set herself up with a makeshift business endeavor on this train?” was the first thing to come out of Mr. Timken’s mouth as he took a seat, a distinctly disgruntled expression on his face.
“Lottie mentioned something about Bernadette styling a passenger’s hair a few hours ago,” Camilla returned. “However, I wasn’t aware she charged that lady for her services.”
“She didn’t, but Bernadette apparently did such a good job with the chignon that other passengers began clamoring for her services. Evidently being a woman who can’t pass up an opportunity toearn some extra money when it all but lands in her lap, Bernadette started charging fifty cents a style, increasing that amount if a lady wanted something more complicated than a chignon.”
“And you’re disgruntled because you disapprove of Bernadette’s entrepreneurial spirit?” Camilla asked.
“She’s being paid a very nice wage to attend to you, not every other lady on this train.”
“I don’t need any attending to right now,” Camilla pointed out.
“It’s the principle of the matter,” Mr. Timken grumbled. “But enough about Bernadette. She’s enough to give me an ulcer.” He nodded to Camilla’s notepad. “Have you developed a plan for Luella yet?”
“Unfortunately no, because Mr. Chesterfield has been somewhat sketchy with details regarding what Luella can do pertaining to feminine arts. He has, however, told me that his country house has a ballroom, and he believes Luella may know how to waltz. I also think we may have access to a piano, although I’m not sure about that since Luella set a dog to howling when she last used it.” She returned her attention to Owen. “Speaking of waltzing, you haven’t mentioned if you’re capable of competently taking a few turns around a floor.”
“And you need to know that because...?”
