A Worthy Suitor
Page 3
“This is pointless.” Gwen shook her head in frustration. One more sport, one more failure. She should have known better than to try.
Albert picked up the arrow and held it out to her. “It’s far too soon for giving up. Try again.”
She had two choices: walk away or do as he said. Walking away alone would expose her to further ridicule, but even worse, she didn’t want to run the risk of insulting Albert. He’d been nothing but kind to her. For some reason, she felt safe with him, as though he would shield her from the thoughtless remarks and rude glances that often came her way. She couldn’t give up yet.
“What am I doing wrong?”
“You’re tensing up and making your grip too tight.” He began to reach for her hand, then paused as if thinking better of the idea. “May I show you?”
He was going to touch her again. “Yes, please.” Gwen forced the words past the lump in her throat.
Albert moved behind her, shadowing her stance. His left arm followed hers, adjusting her grip on the bow. He bent his body enough so that his mouth was close to her ear as he spoke. “Don’t pinch the string between your fingers. Let it lay in the crease behind your knuckles. Like this.”
When her fingers were where they belonged, his hand moved to her wrist and pulled gently back until the arrow’s feathers grazed her cheek. He stepped away, taking his warmth with him and leaving her momentarily bereft. But then she realized she was holding the bow on her own. She had the string pulled back, the arrow exactly where it should be and the target was in sight. This was her moment. “Now?” she whispered.
“Now.”
The arrow sailed through the air. It went high, then arced down as it neared the target, then pierced the canvas-covered straw with a thump. It was the outer ring of the target, but she had hit it.
“I did it!” She hoisted the bow in the air and turned with such exuberance that she almost hit him in the face with it.
“Yes, you most certainly did.” Albert smiled warmly. “I must say, I’m impressed. Most people don’t hit the target their first time out.”
“Truly?” Gwen put her free hand to her chest. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel good, are you?”
Albert’s expression turned serious. “I assure you, I would never say something for such a shallow reason. Pandering does no one any good.”
Oh, dear. Now she had insulted him. “Albert, I’m sorry. It’s just…I’m so used to people treating me like I’m made of glass. This—” she motioned toward the target, then back at him “—and your compliment, well, today has been an altogether new experience for me.”
The smile returned to his lips. “And a good experience, I hope.”
“Fabulous.”
“Then I expect to see you again. My schedule is posted in the clubhouse, but if you want a lesson at a different time, I’ll do my best to accommodate you.”
Reality splashed Gwen, cold and fast. Of course, he was a teacher. The interest he showed in her was nothing more than a ploy to take on another paying customer. How silly she had been to attribute his kindness to anything else.
If she was smart, she would go back to her field studies and avoid the clubhouse like she always had. Still, she couldn’t deny the strength she’d felt as she pulled back on the bowstring, or the rush of adrenaline that shot through her when she released the arrow. But she had to keep her head. She had to remember that no matter what kind of attraction she might feel for Albert, there was no way he would return those feelings. Even if the class difference wasn’t an issue, which it always was, a man like him would never be interested in someone like her.
As long as she kept the facts foremost in her mind, she would be able to guard her heart. Albert Taylor was a teacher, and she had just decided to become a student of archery.
“Oh yes,” she said with a decisive nod. “You will most definitely see me again.”
* * *
Matilda’s unending chatter about the virtues of young Mr. Adler made the walk home feel interminable.
“He’s such a talented driver. A dog ran right in front of the automobile, and he was able to swerve to miss it.”
“That is quite an accomplishment.” Gwen didn’t bother adding that drivers were required to move at such a snail’s pace within the park that it would be far more difficult to hit a moving target than to miss one.
Matilda looked at her sister with a frown. “I’m sorry. Here I am going on and on about my lovely time, and I haven’t even asked about yours. I see you retrieved your notebook.”
“Yes, I did.” Gwen pressed the journal more firmly against her chest. After promising Albert she would return the next afternoon for a proper lesson, he had fetched it from his locker and returned it to her.
“And what did you do with yourself after that? Oh, dear.” She linked her arm around Gwen’s and hugged her tightly to her side. “I hope you weren’t too bored waiting for me.”
Gwen smiled to herself. Of course her sister would assume that she’d had to content herself with watching others go about their business. She should shock Matilda by telling her that she’d amused herself by digging in the flower beds and tracing the movements of the common earthworm. On the other hand, Matilda would likely find the truth much more shocking.
“I wasn’t bored at all. In fact, I spent quite a pleasant hour on the archery range.”
Matilda stopped so suddenly, she almost threw Gwen off balance. “You? You took part in a sport?”
Gwen pulled her arm away from her sister and did her best to look indignant. “Why is that so shocking?”
“Because you loathe sports. You’ve done everything a person can think of to avoid them every summer.”
“That’s true.” Gwen continued walking at a leisurely pace toward home. Even though she’d decided to be realistic about her interactions with Albert, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun with her sister. “But Albert convinced me that I might enjoy archery. And he was right.”
“Albert?” Matilda hustled ahead of Gwen, stopping in front of her and bringing them both to a halt. “You’ve only just met the man, and already you’re calling him by his first name?”
“I may have just met him, but he’s spoken to me more than any other man has during the course of an entire summer.”
“Oh no.” Matilda hung her head, then looked back up at her sister. “Please tell me you haven’t developed an infatuation for this man.”
Gwen’s cheeks burned. “Don’t be absurd. He rescued my field journal and was kind to me, so I consider him a friend. That’s all.”
“But he’s a villager.”
“What difference does that make? He’s a human being, worth just as much in the eyes of God as you and I are.”
Matilda rolled her eyes to the sky. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I think the whole class system is ridiculous. But Father doesn’t. And we both know he would never bless a romance between you and a villager.”
“Tilda, you are spinning fanciful tales where none exist. Albert is going to instruct me in the sport of archery, nothing more.” She lifted her chin and pulled back her shoulders. “Now, let us go home before Mother sends out a search party.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Despite her protests and her determination to remember that Albert was her teacher and nothing more, Gwen couldn’t deny the thrill of Albert’s hand on hers as he helped her with the bow, and the warmth that shot through her when he smiled. No, if she was truthful with herself, she had to admit having an attraction to the handsome archery instructor. But it was only a harmless crush. After all, no matter how she felt about him, he couldn’t possibly be interested in her as anything more than a student and perhaps a friend. But that didn’t dampen the excitement that coiled within her. For once in her life, the summer promised to include more than just long hours alone in the woods with the flora and fauna.
They turned the corner and started up the long driveway to the house. Father sat
in a wide wicker chair on the veranda, as he did every afternoon, his summer suit neatly pressed but spotted with water droplets from the glass of iced lemonade he held in one hand. But this time, he wasn’t alone.
Matilda nudged Gwen in the ribs with her elbow. “Who do you suppose that is?”
“I have no idea.” Gwen squinted to get a better look. The man didn’t seem at all familiar. He was engaged in a lively conversation with her father, leaning forward in his seat, obviously engrossed in the older man’s words.
She was just wondering if they should call out and make their presence known when Father turned to look their way.
“Ah, there you are, Gwen.” His booming voice carried quickly down the long driveway. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
A sneaking suspicion began to grow in Gwen as they drew closer. Father and the man stood. The stranger’s eyes immediately went to Matilda, but then he pulled them away and looked at Gwen. His lips curled up into a stiff smile as she climbed the stairs.
Father motioned between her and the man. “Charles, this is my eldest daughter, Gwendolyn. And this is Mr. Charles Drexler. He’s one of the brightest stars at the brokerage firm. I thought the two of you might hit it off.” He punctuated his words with the slightest of winks in Gwen’s direction.
Gwen’s heart dropped even as she reached out to take Mr. Drexler’s extended hand. Just when her summer was beginning to look up, Father had to decide to play cupid. He’d done it before, trying to arrange matches between her and any number of eligible young men. She’d had nothing in common with any of them, and had asked Father to stop. But now he’d brought her one of his employees, and to their summer home, no less. She had the unpleasant task of finding a respectful way to let Father know the only arrows she was interested in were the ones she’d be shooting on the archery field with Albert Taylor.
Chapter 4
Gwen rested her fork gently against the china plate, afraid that making any noise would draw attention back to her. She really needn’t worry. Since Matilda had discovered that Charles Drexler was being groomed by her father for bigger things at the firm, she had become overly animated, even for her.
“Is this your first visit to Tuxedo Park, Mr. Drexler?” Matilda leaned so far forward, it brought her bodice precariously close to her dinner plate.
“Yes, it is.” Charles nodded politely. “I’ve heard a great deal about the activities that abound here.”
Gwen lifted her water goblet to her lips as her mind drifted back to the archery range.
Father speared a thick pork chop from the serving plate in the middle of the table and dropped it unceremoniously on his plate. “It’s high time you experience some of the finer things in life, young man.” He looked across the table at his wife. “Which is why I’ve invited Charles to spend the next month here with us.”
Gwen gasped, sucking water into her windpipe, which immediately produced a most unladylike coughing fit.
Charles’s eyes narrowed in concern. “Are you all right, Miss Banks?”
Her mother and Matilda both held napkins out to her at the same time. Matilda smiled sweetly at Charles. “She’ll be fine. This kind of thing happens all the time.”
Bristling slightly at Matilda’s cavalier attitude about Gwen’s proclivity for embarrassing herself, she managed to shoo away the offered napkins and stop coughing. “I’m fine,” she rasped.
Her father continued on as if nothing had interrupted him. “Charles was concerned about a month of not working, but since I own the company, that really isn’t a problem.” He laughed, then pointed his empty fork toward the ceiling. “We’ve got the guest quarters in the East wing going empty. Might as well use them.”
He and Mother began talking about arrangements, and Matilda excitedly told Charles what he could expect in Tuxedo Park.
“Oh, you’ll have so much fun. There are parties, and picnics. And a sweet little ice cream shop that makes the best sundaes you’ve ever had. Oh, and tomorrow, we’ll take you to the clubhouse and introduce you to everyone, won’t we, Gwen?”
“Of course.” Gwen forced herself to remain calm, but she really wanted to yell at her sister to mind her own business. Gwen had, in fact, planned on visiting the clubhouse the next day, but not in order to give a newcomer a tour. She had a lesson with Albert, and she had no desire for company. As Matilda twittered on, a plan began to form in Gwen’s head. Having company upon her arrival at the clubhouse might be a good thing. It would draw people’s attention away from her. With a little persuasion, her sister might be amenable to distracting Charles and introducing him to her circle of friends while Gwen had her lesson.
“That’s a wonderful idea, Tilda,” Gwen said with a smile. “But you know everyone there is to know at the clubhouse, much more so than I. We will have to depend on you to be our main source of information.”
Matilda beamed at her sister, her chest so swelled with pride Gwen feared one of her pearl buttons might pop off and fly across the room.
Gwen looked down at her plate to hide her satisfied grin. Yes, Matilda would need very little persuasion, indeed.
* * *
Some people refused to take instruction.
Albert stood back, arms crossed over his chest, as he watched the dandy at the firing line manhandle an arrow onto the bow. Lawrence Simmons seemed to think his status as the heir to the Simmons manufacturing fortune meant he was automatically good at everything he tried. If it hadn’t been for the club’s requirement of at least one lesson before a patron was allowed to shoot on the field, Albert had no doubt the arrogant young man would have forgone lessons entirely. Still, it was Albert’s job to at least try to help.
“If you loosen up on the grip—”
“I’ve got this.” Lawrence growled as he pulled back on the bowstring, bringing it past his ear, which stuck out from his head at a decidedly prominent angle.
Albert took a step forward. “You really don’t want to do that.”
Lawrence’s brows furrowed in concentration and a moment later he let go of the string. Rather than the satisfying pluck and hum he was used to, Albert heard a muffled thump as the string hit Lawrence’s ear. It was followed by something akin to the wail of a cat whose tail had just been stepped on. Lawrence dropped the bow and stumbled backward, holding his palm against the side of his face.
“The whole idea of lessons is to keep me from being injured.” Lawrence turned to Albert. “I’m going to report you to the director.”
It was all Albert could do to hold back the retort on his tongue. “Sir, I attempted to correct your stance, your hold on the bow and its proximity to your face. If you would like to inform the activities director that you ignored all my recommendations and then hurt yourself, I can’t stop you. But I should let you know, the clubhouse has a long and complex grapevine. It won’t take long before the whole place is talking about the status of your ear.”
The idea that any attention would be brought to his ears was apparently enough to make Lawrence rethink his complaint. With a huff, he dropped the bow on the ground. “This is a silly game anyway. I’ve got better ways to spend my summer.”
As the injured man stalked away, Jonah Walker approached Albert.
“I see you charmed another student.” Jonah laughed as he clapped Albert on the back.
Albert frowned. “He was unpleasant, but I hate to lose anyone.”
“If we don’t teach, we don’t eat, eh?” Jonah nodded his understanding. “I remind myself of that every time the Golden Boy steps up to the line.”
Albert laughed. Jonah had taken to giving his students nicknames that he used only when talking to other instructors. There was Lady Athena, a young woman with the unfortunate name of Gladys Crump, who was as fierce with a bow as she was lovely to look at; and there was Brandon Farthingham, also known as the Golden Boy, a man with enough money and status to be thoroughly annoying, but with enough true skill and desire to learn that Jonah couldn’t help but tolerate him.
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“At least Mr. Farthingham listens to your instruction.” Albert shook his head. “Mr. Simmons believes himself much too good for that.”
Jonah waved his hand as though shooing away a fly. “Enough about him. It looks as if your fortune is about to change.” He motioned down the field with a nod of his head.
Albert’s heart took an unexpected leap at the sight of Gwendolyn Banks moving in his direction. He’d seen her name on his teaching schedule for the day, but part of him had been sure something would happen to keep her from showing up. Yet there she was. Dressed in a practical day dress of sage green that set off the auburn highlights in her hair, she walked with her eyes focused on the ground. It was likely she was looking for uneven spots to avoid tripping, but he suspected her eyes were down to avoid looking at others. He wanted to tell her how she outshone the other ladies in their fancy dresses of white lace and ruffles. Instead, he lifted his hand in a greeting.
“Good to see you, Gwen.”
Her head snapped up, and a smile immediately transformed her features. “Hello, Albert.”
“Yes, hello.” A fellow Albert hadn’t noticed walked up beside Gwen, the scowl on his face indicating a proprietary expectation.
Gwen’s sister, Matilda, hurried up on the other side of the man and stopped just short of grabbing his arm. If Gwen noticed, she cared not a whit.
“Albert, this is Mr. Charles Drexler.” She inclined her head in the man’s direction. “He’s a business associate of our father.”
Albert extended his hand in greeting, but Charles replied with a curt nod, then looked Albert up and down critically. “And you, sir?”
A slight scowl pulled down Gwen’s brows, but she quickly replaced it with a placid expression. “Albert is my archery instructor.”
“Archery?” Charles jerked his head back in surprise. “Why ever would you waste your time with such a frivolous pursuit?”