A Worthy Suitor
Page 7
Matilda looked away and blew out a breath. When she looked back at Gwen, her face was serious. “I think he’s still carrying a torch for you.”
Gwen couldn’t stop herself. She burst out laughing.
Matilda’s brows pulled down into a deep frown. “It’s not funny.”
“Oh, yes, it really is.” Gwen dabbed at the moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I’m not laughing at you, Tilda, really. But the idea that Charles has ever carried anything for me other than disapproval is patently absurd.”
“Then why does he talk about you all the time?”
“He talks about me?” Gwen found that hard to believe. “What does he say?”
“He talks about how Father had such high hopes for the two of you, and how he wishes the match could be possible.”
Now it made sense. “I see. So he’s really talking about Father, and how he doesn’t want to disappoint him.”
Matilda frowned. “Well, maybe. When you put it like that, I guess it could be true.”
Gwen reached out and took Matilda’s hand. “Trust me, sister, Charles has no interest in me. What concerns me now is the interest you’re showing in him.”
Truth be told, Gwen didn’t believe Charles was a good match for Matilda, either. Her sister was so full of life, so vivacious. Charles was so…staid. Gwen didn’t see what the appeal was. Unless it was that Matilda was so used to men fawning over her that she didn’t know what to do when one didn’t.
Matilda wiped the tears from her face with the corner of her bedsheet. “I don’t know why you’re concerned. I’ve spent time with Charles, mostly at your request, and I’ve gotten to know him quite well.”
Yes, if it hadn’t been for Gwen, Matilda wouldn’t be in this spot right now. It was a sore point, and one that Gwen intended to remedy. Before she could reassure her sister, Matilda grabbed her wrist.
“Please, can we change the subject and speak of happy things? What brought you to my room this morning?” She leaned forward, eyes wide. “Is there news about Albert?”
The shock of finding Matilda in tears had chased the original purpose from her mind, but now it came back with a vengeance. “In a manner of speaking, yes. I have another favor to ask, but I’m fairly certain you’ll enjoy this one.”
“Do tell.”
Gwen drew in a deep breath and collected her courage. “I want you to teach me to dance.”
A radiant smile blooming, Matilda sat up on her knees and clapped her hands. “Gwenie, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say that.” Then she jumped up from the bed and held out her arms. “Let us begin.”
* * *
It had been a long time since Albert had needed to bunk down in anything other than his own bed, but today, the clean straw in the empty stall was as welcoming as a down-stuffed mattress. He just needed a few minutes of rest. Just some time to close his eyes.
His lids had drifted shut before he’d finished propping himself up in the corner. The past few weeks had been draining, both physically and emotionally. He wasn’t used to the unending flurry of parties. By now, he expected he would have met every resident of Tuxedo Park, but apparently he hadn’t. Because every time Grenville Kane chose to trot him out, he met someone new, or at the very least, someone whom he’d barely spoken to previously and wanted to find out more about the games and what chance the Tuxedo Park Archery team had of winning a medal. It was exhausting to keep a smile on his face while answering the same questions over and over again. He was coming to thoroughly dislike the very word party.
The one bright spot was seeing Gwen, though their battle of wills was beginning to wear on him. He knew she was determined to stay off the dance floor, but he truly thought he’d have gotten through to her by now. Still, every time he made the invitation, she turned him down. He did his best to do as she asked and not take it personally, but each refusal delivered a bit of sting.
And then there was Rachel. She did best with a set routine, but that had been dashed over the past few weeks. Most nights, he had barely enough time to come home after work and make sure she ate before he had to change and hurry back out again. He never knew exactly when he could leave each party, so by the time he returned home he usually found Rachel pacing the floor, talking to herself. It took him hours to calm her down enough that she could fall asleep.
“Albert, wake up.”
Albert’s eyes flew open. At some point he’d fallen asleep, and from the slant of the shadows on the stall wall, he’d been there for some time.
Dillon Mayhew, one of the stable grooms, leaned against the frame of the open stall door, smirking. “Those society folks have been running you ragged, eh?”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Albert rose slowly to his feet, working the kinks out of his back and neck.
“No rest for the weary, me boyo. Another one of them’s outside looking for ya.”
Oh no. He’d slept right into a lesson. “Who is it?”
“Nice woman. Don’t think I’ve seen her here before. Walks with a bit of a limp.”
“Thanks for finding me.” He clapped Dillon on the back as he hurried past him. “I owe you one.”
Dillon laughed and called after him. “Bring me along to one of those fancy shindigs, and I’ll call us even.”
How he wished he could let Dillon go to all the parties in his stead. For now, it was a necessary part of the process. Getting to the Summer Games required hard work and sacrifice. He just hadn’t known the extent of it.
As he careened around the side of the barn, he ran into someone coming the other way. A flash of warm brown eyes and a startled gasp was all it took for him to realize he’d almost run down Gwen. He reached out quickly and grabbed her shoulders, keeping her on her feet.
“I’m sorry, Gwen. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
But she didn’t seem fine. They stood close enough that he could hear the labored intake of her breath. “Are you sure? You seem to be having trouble breathing.”
“Oh. Well.” She looked down at his chest, then sideways to where his fingers were wrapped around her upper arm. “I just had the wind knocked out of me, I suppose. Maybe if you took a step back…”
“Of course.” He immediately released her and all but jumped backward. He was acting like a buffoon. Desperately, he searched for something intelligent to say. “I’m sorry to be late for our lesson.”
“It’s all right. Really. But when you weren’t there, I was worried about you so I asked if anyone had seen you, and someone said they saw you walk this way.” She pointed down to his trouser leg. “You were definitely in the barn.”
Albert was aghast to discover that straw clung to one entire side of his leg. He looked like a hobo. A buffoonish hobo.
He squeezed the back of his neck and tried not to sound as sheepish as he felt. “I’ve had some personal issues to deal with lately.”
A look of sympathy settled in Gwen’s eyes. “If you’re having financial difficulties, perhaps my father could help. You shouldn’t be sleeping in a barn.”
“What? Oh, no.” He waved his hands in front of her as though trying to erase the words from a blackboard. “I didn’t spend the night here. I just needed a quiet place to get away for a moment of rest.”
“Of course.”
Albert snorted out a short breath of frustration. She thought he was being brave and not admitting how bad things really were. “I assure you, I’m fine. I do have an…issue at home. But I have a home. With four walls, a roof and a pillow for my head. I even have a cat. She’s the most independent creature you’d ever hope to meet. I could disappear for a week and when I returned she would be utterly indifferent to me.”
Gwen stared at him for a moment as if trying to decide whether or not to believe him. Then she nodded and clasped her hands together in front of her. “Very well. Then there’s no reason for concern.”
“None whatsoever.”
“Good.”
�
�Are you ready for your lesson?”
“Most certainly.”
He motioned in the direction of the archery range. “Then let us away.”
Gwen turned on her heel with Albert following. She was a remarkable woman, as kind as she was lovely. Albert had no doubt that if he had been in financial straits, she would have found a way to help him but thought no less of him for it. It was just one more thing that made her so lovable.
Albert’s heart clenched. At some point, his respect and admiration for her had transformed into love, despite the fact that they were separated by class distinction. There were myriad reasons why she was far out of his reach. But then, he’d thought that about competing in the games, too. It had been merely a pie-in-the-sky idea until a chance mention of it to Mr. Kane had set in motion a chain of events that changed everything. It had been Albert’s experience in life that God had a way of turning situations around when you least expected it. There was no reason it shouldn’t hold true when it came to a relationship between him and Gwendolyn Banks.
Still, no matter how optimistic he tried to be, or how convincing he was about his lack of problems, the issue of his sister still nagged at him. There could be no relationship with Gwen until she knew about Rachel, and there would be no relationship after she knew. Because once she found out that he’d kept his sister hidden away, she would hate him. She’d hate him for lying, for the secrets he’d been keeping. And then everyone would find out. Rachel would be hurt, his reputation would be ruined, and they’d have to move. Again.
That decided it. As much as he wanted to be completely open with Gwen, there were some things he needed to keep to himself. At least for now.
Chapter 8
“Remind me again why I thought this was a good idea?”
Gwen clutched Matilda’s arm as if she were on a sinking ship and her sister were a life preserver. Matilda patted her hand and leaned in close. “Because you’re just as good as any one of the people here.”
She didn’t bother with a response, although Gwen highly doubted the veracity of Matilda’s statement. The past several weeks of parties had been daunting, but they paled in comparison to the Ashfords’ Grand Ball. The Ashfords’ home was so massive and well-appointed that no one bothered with the pretense of calling it a cottage. This was the Ashford Mansion, and it was filled to the brim with the upper crust of Tuxedo Park society, as well as a few families who ranked so high in the New York social set that they couldn’t be bothered summering in the exclusive community. There were even several uniformed police officers circulating amongst the guest, just as a reminder that common thieves and pickpockets didn’t stand a chance.
It was in this setting, amongst the who’s who of the upper echelon, beneath chandeliers covered in gold leaf and dripping with cut crystal, that Gwen had decided to make her first foray onto the dance floor. The idea terrified her.
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.” Matilda pulled her farther into the room, waving and smiling to people as they went. “Mrs. Reynolds, so good to see you.”
Gwen put on a plastic smile for those they passed, but she couldn’t keep the terror from her voice as she whispered to Matilda. “No. I can’t. Not in front of all these people.”
“Lisbeth, you look gorgeous, dear,” Matilda said to a woman nearby. She lowered her voice as she spoke to Gwen. “And you look gorgeous, as well.”
Gwen had to confess, she felt beautiful after all the primping and preparation that had gone into preparing for the ball. It had taken the combined effort of four maids as well as Matilda overseeing what she should wear and how her hair should be arranged, but when they were done, the result was surprising. Looking in the mirror, Gwen had barely recognized herself.
But then she’d walked out of the room and stumbled over the truth. No matter what she did, no matter how artfully her hair was styled, no matter how beautiful the gown she wore, there was no way to disguise the dragging of her foot and the limp that came with it.
Matilda had moved them to a spot near the back wall where they could observe without being on display themselves. After a quick look around, Gwen sighed in relief.
“I don’t see Albert. Maybe he won’t be at this party.”
“Let’s hope you’re wrong, Gwenie. I’d hate to think all our lessons were going to waste.”
Matilda had been quite a sport. Over the past two days, she’d taught Gwen a basic box step and worked with her until Gwen could approximate a passable waltz. She maintained that if Gwen kept her upper body straight and her arms in the proper position, no one would have a clue that her feet were shuffling beneath her floor length skirt.
But now Gwen was sure she’d been wrong. There were so many people, there was no doubt in her mind that everyone would notice everything. She’d be a laughingstock for thinking she could attempt something that required such grace and finesse.
“Besides, if Mr. Kane is determined to introduce Albert to well-connected men who could back him in the competition, this is the place to do it. Do you see that man over there?” Matilda managed to motion surreptitiously with her chin to a heavyset man who was nearly bald save for the bushy tufts above his ears. “That’s Mr. Winchester. He owns the Winchester Archery Company.”
“I’ve never seen him before. Does he live in the park?”
Matilda shook her head. “No, he’s visiting from Pennsylvania. But he’s exactly the kind of person Albert needs to meet.”
Gwen gulped. Yes, there was little doubt that if Albert wasn’t already here, he would arrive soon. But maybe he wouldn’t ask her to dance this time. It was possible that with so many people to talk to, he wouldn’t have time to dance with her, let alone ask her a question he thought he already knew the answer to.
Then, as if God had decided to play a joke on her, she saw Albert walk through the ballroom door, followed by none other than Charles. There they were, her dream and her nightmare. The man she looked forward to seeing, and the man she didn’t care if she ever saw again. Unfortunately, Matilda still did care. She looked in the same direction and let out a little squeal.
“Oh, there they are. And don’t they look dashing?”
Gwen nodded. Yes, indeed they did. She may not care for Charles, but he was a handsome man. As for Albert…words could not describe what she felt when she looked at him.
Matilda pulled against her, straining to get away as if she was a racehorse pulling against the bit. Gwen was still concerned about her sister’s interest in Charles, but she had no concrete reason to keep her away from him.
“Go have fun.” Gwen released her viselike grip on her arm.
Matilda grinned, but didn’t immediately dash away. “Are you sure? Will you be all right?”
“I’ll be fine. I just panicked a bit. I can take care of myself.”
“Of course you can.” Matilda planted a quick peck on Gwen’s cheek, then hurried away.
Of course Gwen could take care of herself. She’d been doing it for a long time. But she was still more comfortable communing with nature and traipsing through the forest, or poking around in the garden behind her family’s cottage, than mingling inside with other human beings. She understood plants and birds and insects and animals. People, on the other hand, continued to baffle her.
Perhaps some punch would help calm her. At the very least, it would give her something to do with her hands. She turned to look for a waiter, but found herself watching Albert make his way to her. As he drew closer, his eyes widened.
“Miss Banks, may I say that, although I find you beautiful every day, you look particularly lovely tonight.” He offered her his hand, leaning slightly forward at the waist.
A blush warmed Gwen’s cheeks as she put her hand in his. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. You look dashing, as always.”
He lifted her hand and brushed his lips lightly across her knuckles. “This new type of dinner jacket isn’t the most comfortable thing I’ve worn, but I must admit, it seems to flatter each man who wea
rs one.”
Even when he released her hand, Gwen felt the heat from his fingers. Her mouth had gone completely dry. Where was a waiter with a punch tray when she needed one? “They’ve taken to calling them tuxedos,” she stammered. “After the park. Since the men here brought them into vogue.”
Albert shook his head, no doubt finding the notion as pretentious as she did. Gwen didn’t know what to say now. Usually, they talked about archery, wildlife, the games, their favorite books and any number of interesting topics. Usually, conversation between them was easy. But tonight, as the orchestra played and couples swirled, there was one topic that neither of them seemed eager to bring up.
“Albert, I—”
“Gwen, I—”
They spoke in unison, abruptly cutting each other off. He motioned for her to continue, but she shook her head. “No, you first. Please.”
“All right.” Albert cleared his throat. “Gwen, I fully intended to ask you to dance with me every time I saw you, from now until the end of summer, if that’s what it took. But I’m beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable being so persistent. So my question tonight is, how long should I continue to ask you?”
Gwen exhaled a slow breath. He hadn’t grown tired of waiting. He still wanted to dance with her. Suddenly, the other people in the room didn’t matter. Somehow, the world had narrowed down to simply Gwen and Albert, and there was no doubting what she wanted.
“One more time,” Gwen said. “If you would please ask me just one more time.”
Albert raised his chin as if not entirely sure what this meant. But then, for the second time that evening, he held out his hand, palm up. “Would you do me the honor of a dance, dear lady?”
Her fingers slid into his. “It would be my greatest pleasure, kind sir.”
His eyes lit up and a smile played across his handsome face. As they walked slowly to the dance floor, Albert giving her plenty of time to set the pace, she knew she’d made the right choice.
* * *
What he had anticipated would be a dreadful evening had turned into a remarkable night. Mr. Kane had introduced him to several other influential businessmen who actually seemed to take his bid for the competition seriously. Mr. Winchester had been particularly positive. But the highlight of the evening had been the times when he could pull himself away from the campaigning and steal time for a dance with Gwen.