In Good Company

by Jen Turano

  Caroline blinked somewhat owlishly back at him. “That’s a charming thing for you to say, Everett. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, and . . . may I also say that I’ve come to the realization that I’ve been less than pleasant of late, even though I promised you I’d stop being so boorish, so I must now beg your forgiveness once again. I’ve had a lot on my mind, but that isn’t an acceptable reason for not paying you the proper amount of attention.”

  Caroline blinked again, right as Gertrude, Nora, and Dudley exchanged significant looks before they turned and splashed away from them.

  “Are the thoughts that have plagued your mind lately of any great importance?” Caroline asked as she began twirling her parasol around.

  “They’re a touch troubling, but nothing for you to worry about.”

  Instead of looking reassured, Caroline’s eyes widened before she sloshed closer to him and lowered her voice. “You haven’t had a change of heart about the ball, have you?”

  “Since Miss Pickenpaugh would have my head if I did, no, of course not.”

  “I meant about what’s to happen at the ball.”

  Taking a moment to collect his scattered thoughts, Everett considered Caroline, taking in the trace of panic now resting in her eyes, and the heightened color on her cheeks that he knew wasn’t from the sun. He’d been with her every afternoon and evening since the peacock disaster, but they hadn’t talked about anything of importance. They certainly hadn’t talked about what exactly she was expecting of him at the ball. Instead, Caroline had taken to clinging to him quite often when they were with their friends, laughing at almost every little thing he said, even though he now knew he’d been less than amusing of late.

  Now that he actually thought about it, her behavior made him realize that he’d been unfair to Caroline. He’d apparently caused her to become insecure in their relationship, but . . . he wasn’t exactly sure why she was so determined to continue on with him since he obviously hadn’t been treating her very well.

  Releasing a breath, he lifted her hand and placed a kiss on her salty fingers. “I think it’s past time you and I go somewhere private so that we may speak frankly with each other.”

  Caroline’s eyes widened to the size of small saucers. “About what?”

  “About us, the ball, what you expect, and . . . just everything.”

  “I don’t think there’s any reason for that, Everett,” Caroline said quickly. “You have to know what I expect, what our friends expect, and what society expects at this point. You’ve made me promises, and I’m going to hold you to those promises.”

  Everett frowned. “But . . . why do you want to hold me to those promises? Forgive me, but there are times I get the distinct feeling you don’t particularly care for me, let alone love me.”

  “Of course I don’t love you, Everett,” Caroline whispered furiously. “Love is for those feeble-minded common people—not people like us. But I respect you, respect your position within society, and you and I both know we’ll be a force to be reckoned with once we’re married.”

  Everett blinked, not certain how to proceed. “While I truly used to believe that would be enough for us to build a marriage on, I’ve recently changed my mind,” he said slowly. “Marriage is for life, Caroline, and I do think a bit of affection, and even . . . love, should play a part in the equation.”

  Caroline snatched back her hand. “You don’t love me any more than I love you, but . . .” Her eyes narrowed. “This reluctance on your part doesn’t have something to do with that dreadful Miss Longfellow, does it? Because honestly . . . if it does . . . Well, need I remind you . . . she’s the nanny?”

  “I’m well aware of Millie’s status, Caroline, and—”

  “You’re back to calling her Millie again?” Caroline drew herself up. “It’s unacceptable, Everett, this fascination you seem to hold for that woman. Don’t think I didn’t notice how you stepped in to rescue her when she got stuck in that tree, even though you should have let one of the footmen do it.” She shook a finger at him. “I’m a reasonable woman, Everett, and know full well you’ll have your little amusements after we’re married. I’m perfectly willing to overlook your indiscretions, but I will not tolerate you flaunting them under my nose.”

  “You’ll overlook my indiscretions?”

  “Of course, it’s what we ladies do, just as I’m sure you’ll overlook mine.”

  His blood began rushing through his veins. “You intend to have indiscretions?”

  “Not until after our children are born, of course, but . . . it’s only fair. And I do think, in order for us to have a successful marriage, we should at the very least be honest with each other.”

  As he stood there, with the surf gently lapping over his feet, Everett had no idea whether he should laugh at the absurdity of the conversation or flee from the woman who was calmly speaking about completely unacceptable ideas—as if those ideas shouldn’t surprise Everett in the least.

  “What about the vows we’re going to take—especially the one regarding being faithful to each other?”

  Caroline waved the question away. “No one I know takes their vows seriously, and it’s not as if either one of us is overly religious.”

  Something unpleasant settled on his tongue, something that tasted remarkably like regret. While it was true that he and Caroline had never spoken much about God—even though they did attend church every week when they were in the city—Everett had never realized Caroline held such a jaded view. Even though he was not, as Caroline had put it, overly religious, he was of the firm belief that vows spoken in front of God should be honored at all costs. In fact, ever since he’d become acquainted with Millie, he’d been somewhat fascinated by how easily she prayed, spoke of God, and—

  “Both of you need to laugh right now as if I’ve just told you the most amusing joke,” Nora said as she splashed her way up to them. She let out a very credible laugh before she leaned closer and began whispering very rapidly. “If you’ve neglected to notice, everyone—and I mean everyone—has started edging your way, and . . . they’re looking a little rabid.”

  Looking to the right, and then to the left, Everett discovered that Nora was speaking nothing less than the truth. Everyone at Bailey’s Beach seemed to be moving his way—people who’d been bobbing in deeper depths were bobbing closer, people who’d been milling in the shallow surf were now milling in his direction, and people who’d been sunning themselves on the sand had apparently decided to take this particular moment to cool off. Turning back to Caroline, he offered her his arm, which she completely ignored. She gave him a cool smile, right before she turned her back on him.

  “Dudley, be a dear and see me home, will you? I find I’m suddenly not feeling very well,” she called before she started wading Dudley’s way. She apparently had no qualms about taking the arm Dudley offered her and then flounced out of the water without a single glance his way.

  “That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I interrupted your argument,” Nora muttered. “And it certainly didn’t put a stop to all the speculation spreading over Bailey’s Beach.”

  Taking Nora’s arm, Everett helped her out of the water, but as soon as they reached the beach, he realized that Caroline and Dudley were gone.

  “Will you go after her?” Nora asked quietly.

  “Do you think I should?”

  Nora considered him for a long moment. “No, but I do think you should take some time to really think matters over before you make the biggest mistake of your life.” With that, Nora sent him a rather sad smile before she headed back into the water, leaving him with only confusing thoughts for company, and everyone still sending speculative glances his way.

  13

  Millie was quickly coming to the conclusion that being tethered to a rope while trying to dodge waves that seemed intent on drowning her was probably not the best way to go about the tricky business of learning how to swim.

  Pushing sopping strands of hai
r out of her eyes, she watched as Lucetta swam gracefully toward her, her body rising fluidly over a swell, before she dove under the water, surfacing a second later right in front of Millie.

  “You just have to keep your feet kicking at all times, and then move your arms in a clockwise motion, turning your head every now and again to get a breath of air,” Lucetta said.

  “Every time I turn my head to breathe, I get a mouthful of salty water. Honestly, the last time I tried the whole breathing thing, I swear a small fish darted into my mouth.”

  “You love fish.”

  “Well, yes, when it’s grilled, baked, or fried, but not when it’s still swimming.”

  “I don’t think you’re kicking your feet enough,” Elizabeth said as she waded away from the bathing machine, a machine that had turned out to be little more than a shack on wheels, and a very weathered, gray-looking shack at that.

  “And you’re not moving your arms right,” Thaddeus called from his perch on the steps of the bathing machine, Rose nodding in agreement from right beside him. He held out an apple that already had bite marks in it. “Want a piece of apple? I bet it tastes better than that fish you just swallowed.”

  “I didn’t swallow the fish,” Millie said before she grinned and shook her head. “And I didn’t know the two of you snuck food into the bathing machine.”

  “It’s not much of a machine, Miss Millie. It’s just a big box on wheels and doesn’t even have a motor, which was a little disappointing to find out,” Rose said. “I was hoping we could drive the machine around the beach, like a boat, but . . . the peacocks sure do seem to find it a good place to roost.”

  Millie grabbed hold of the rope that kept her attached to the bathing machine and pulled herself right up next to it. Getting a grip on the wooden railing she’d been told was to help timid bathers lower themselves into the water, she heaved herself up and then moved through the narrow doorway. Her gaze swept over three peacocks that were sitting calmly on the benches that lined the little room, one of them actually sleeping. Turning, she arched a brow at Rose. “How in the world did you get those in here without me seeing you do it?”

  “They’ve been here the whole time, but were hiding, er, I mean resting, underneath our towels.” Rose blinked far-too-adorable eyes Millie’s way. “And I only brought three of them, just the ones that seemed the saddest about leaving Uncle Everett’s house.”

  “The peacocks staying at Abigail’s is only temporary,” Millie reminded her. “Just until after the ball.”

  Rose shook her head. “I don’t think Miss Dixon’s going to let them come back, not when she finds out Miss Abigail agreed to take them in.”

  “Abigail only agreed to take them for a few days, mostly because poor Miss Pickenpaugh was having a nervous episode when she heard the peacocks screeching. In Miss Pickenpaugh’s opinion, that screeching was certain to ruin the ball, and quite honestly, she might have had a very valid point.”

  “That poor woman needs to search out a different profession, or else she’s going to find herself committed to an asylum,” Lucetta said, tripping over the numerous lengths of rope lying about, one of which was still wrapped around Millie’s middle. Giving the ropes a glare, she lifted her head and sent Rose a smile. “It was very brave of you, though, darling, to agree to allow the peacocks to stay at Abigail’s.”

  “I think her bravery might have had something to do with the promise of a puppy, or . . . three,” Millie added.

  “Did someone just mention something about puppies?”

  Pushing curls yet again out of her eyes, Millie looked to the doorway and found Everett peering in, the striped bathing shirt he was wearing plastered to his chest, the sight of that chest causing her mouth to go just a little dry. “What are you doing here?” was the first thing she could think of to say, although what she really wanted to tell him was to swim right back to shore and leave her alone.

  Everett hefted himself out of the water and sat down on the step beside Thaddeus and Rose, squishing the two children together in the process. “I’d had enough of Bailey’s Beach for the day, so thought I’d stop by and see how this bathing machine experiment was working out for everyone.”

  “You and Caroline had a fight, didn’t you,” Lucetta said.

  Everett frowned. “Why would you assume that?”

  Shrugging, Lucetta grabbed a towel off a bench and wiped her face. “I’m intuitive. And I’m going to hazard a guess and say the reason the two of you got into an argument was because you were foolish enough to tell her that I’ve come to Newport for the rest of the summer.”

  “Your name didn’t come up at all today.”

  For some odd reason, Lucetta laughed. “How delightful. Although . . . well, now I’m a tad stymied—which means bewildered, Millie, if you didn’t know—about why you and Caroline argued.” She set aside the towel, lifted a bare foot up on the bench, and began wringing water out of a pant leg.

  “Did my footman, Davis, make those pants for you?” Everett asked slowly.

  Lucetta continued wringing out her pants. “Of course, and he made the pants Millie’s wearing as well.”

  Millie suddenly found herself the recipient of Everett’s attention, attention that seemed to be lingering on her . . . limbs. To her relief, Lucetta regained his notice when she began speaking again.

  “I just have to add that Davis is one of the most charming footmen I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Do you know that, even though he admitted he can’t swim a lick, he’s sitting out on the beach, keeping an eye on us?” She dropped her foot and smiled. “Bless his heart, I don’t know how much help he’d be if one of us did start to drown, but it’s very considerate of him to want to try.”

  “Yes, bless Davis’s all-too-charming heart,” Everett mumbled. “But . . . what happened to Abigail and my mother?”

  “They’re taking a stroll with Reverend Gilmore,” Elizabeth said as she climbed over Thaddeus and crawled her way into the bathing machine. “Grandmother Dorothy got a little emotional right after I called her Grandmother for the first time, so Miss Abigail thought it would be a good idea for them to go on a walk with Reverend Gilmore in order to allow Grandmother Dorothy time to collect herself.”

  “You’re calling my mother Grandmother Dorothy now?”

  Looking up from the rope she’d been trying to get untied from her waist, Elizabeth smiled. “It seemed a little silly to keep calling her Mrs. Mulberry.”

  “That was very thoughtful of you, Elizabeth.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Everett, and I hope you’ll remember how thoughtful I can be when you hear about the . . . puppies.”

  Everett immediately arched a brow Millie’s way, but before she could summon up a suitable explanation, Thaddeus stood up on the step he’d been sitting on and turned eyes that were rather wide and filled with hope on Everett.

  “Miss Lucetta brought three puppies with her all the way from New York, but they’re up in Miss Abigail’s cottage sleeping right now because they were exhausted from the boat ride.” He gulped in a big breath of air. “She said two of them are girls, and one’s a boy, and . . . we can keep them if you’re still keen to get a dog.”

  “I’m pretty sure I mentioned one dog, Thaddeus, not three.”

  “But the two sister puppies will be awful sad if we take their brother away.” Thaddeus’s lower lip began to tremble.

  Reaching out, Everett ruffled Thaddeus’s hair, right before he turned accusing eyes on Lucetta. “You just happened to bring three puppies with you to Newport?”

  Lucetta wagged a finger Everett’s way. “Now, now, there’s no need to sound so suspicious, Everett. If you must know, I only acquired the puppies yesterday, and couldn’t very well leave them behind.”

  “They’re Buford’s,” Millie added.

  Everett blinked. “Oliver’s dog?”

  Millie nodded. “Buford apparently took up with a lady friend, and that lady friend’s owners weren’t exactly happy about it.”
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br />   “How do they know for sure Buford was responsible, for . . . well . . . you know?” Everett asked.

  “When you see the puppies, you’ll have no doubts,” Lucetta said. “Their paws are like dinner plates, and they’re only a few months old. Plus, they’re a little . . . motley looking.”

  “But how did you end up with them?”

  “Oliver’s butler, Mr. Blodgett, brought them around to me.” Lucetta pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “He was getting ready to go on holiday, and since Oliver hasn’t returned from England yet, he knew the pups might come to a bad end if he didn’t take them. But, again, he was going out of the city, so he moseyed on over to Abigail’s and left them with me, since he remembered how well Buford took to me.”

  “I really think we should take all three of them, Uncle Everett,” Thaddeus said earnestly. “Even though we’ll be outnumbered again since two of them are girls.”

  “I suppose we really can’t separate them if they’re siblings, now, can we,” Everett said slowly before he gave a rather resigned shake of his head. “Puppies can be a lot of work though.”

  A chorus of how happy they’d be to work hard with the puppies immediately commenced, and before Millie could step in and save Everett from certain mayhem, he was nodding his head and smiling.

  “Very well, we can take them, but . . . this is it now. I don’t want to see any other creatures being brought home.”

  Squeals of delight sounded around the bathing machine, and then Everett eased off the steps and back into the ocean. “Anyone want to go for a swim with me?”

  “Can I swim without this rope?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Certainly, but let me help you, since it seems to be knotted well.”

  Millie watched as Everett got Elizabeth untied and then held out his arms, which Elizabeth immediately jumped into. The young girl’s laughter rang out again and again as she and Everett dove through the waves, going deeper into the ocean than Millie would have dared.

  “I know you’re incredibly annoyed with the gentleman, Millie,” Lucetta said quietly. “But I can’t help but like him.”