“Luella will need a partner.”
“I thoughtyou’dpartner her.”
“I’ll certainly show her some steps, but if we have access to your piano, I’ll be the one playing it. I’ll also need to observe her from afar to be able to assess her skills. I’m sure you’ll agree that the last thing we want is to arrive at that ball she’s determined to attend and have her stumble about on the dance floor.”
“I know how to waltz, although I’ve never been light on my feet, probably because of my size. Luella knows this, and I can guarantee that she’ll balk at the idea of practicing with me.”
“Perhaps we’ll need to address that lightness-of-foot issue of yours while we’re in the ballroom.”
“I don’t recall mentioning that I longed to resolve that issue.”
“I can spot an unspoken cry for assistance a mile away,” she said before she turned to Mr. Timken. “It seems I may need you on this trip for more than assuming the role of my chaperone, especially when you were the best dance instructor I ever had—unofficially, of course.”
Mr. Timken settled back against the seat. “And while I would adore stepping into the role of dance instructor, my chaperoning duties must take precedence over everything else.”
To Owen’s surprise, Camilla rolled her eyes. “Should I assume that ridiculous response is a sign that you’re still put out with me?”
“A proper butler never becomes put out with his employer.”
Camilla’s lips twitched before she turned to Owen. “Contrary to what you must be thinking, Mr. Timken is actually the most proper of butlers. However, because he practically raised me, I tend to share a more familiar relationship with him than most people share with members of their staff, hence the reason he doesn’t hesitate to speak his mind with me.”
“I was wondering about that,” Owen admitted.
“Well, wonder no more, but may I assume your butler doesn’t share his opinions with you?”
“I don’t employ a butler, but any of the butlers I’ve encountered over the years when I visit business associates don’t seem quite so ... opinionated.”
“A direct result of Mr. Timken, as I said, having a very large hand in raising me.”
“I would think your parents were responsible for that.”
Camilla shook her head. “Parents within the Four Hundred have relatively little to do with their children, Mr. Chesterfield. They hire nannies and governesses to mind their offspring. However, after Mr. Timken caught one of my governesses reading to me in a monotone voice, he took over that job and read to me every night, even changing his voice for every character. He then took it upon himself to teach me things like how to swim or how to sail my toyboat in the small lake at Central Park. He also decided he would be the one to practice my dance steps with me after my dance instructors left for the day because he’s more than light on his feet.”
“And it gave us uninterrupted time to talk about each other’s day,” Mr. Timken added, settling a warm smile on Camilla, which she didn’t hesitate to return.
Owen moved El Cid, who was currently in the process of trying to sharpen his claws against Owen’s leg, to the seat beside him, garnering a disdainful look in the process, before he returned his attention to Camilla, taking a moment to consider everything shehadn’tsaid.
It didn’t take a genius to realize that, while she’d grown up in the lap of luxury, her life might have been a lonely one except for the fact that the family butler had stepped in to spend his time with a little girl who most people would have envied, but a little girl who’d obviously relished the attention she’d received, not from her family, but from a member of their staff.
“I’ve been trying to get Mr. Timken to allow me to call him Uncle Thaddeous, or at least Uncle Timken, for years,” Camilla said, pulling Owen from his thoughts. “He, of course, has flatly refused to allow me to address him as anything other than Mr. Timken, but I’ll eventually wear him down.”
“You won’t,” Mr. Timken said.
“Of course I will,” Camilla replied. “But before you argue with that, allow me to return the conversation to the topic of you assisting with some dance instruction. Will you help me?”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“I would think that’s obvious.”
“Think again.”
Mr. Timken shifted on the seat. “Oh very well, since I’m certain you’re soon going to turn tenacious about the matter, to put it plainly, I’ll agree to assist you if you’ll tell me exactly why you made the rash decision to travel to Wheeling.”
“I would think that obvious.”
“And as you just told me—think again.”
