by Jen Turano
“Ah, there he is now,” Clementine all but purred as she raised a hand and smoothed it over hair that was not out of place. Lowering that hand a moment later, she sent Gertrude a nod. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s now become remarkably clear that if I’m going to secure Mr. Sinclair’s affections, and secure those affections before the summer season begins in earnest, I’ll need to do that myself.” Turning on her heel, Clementine glided away without another word, straight in the direction of Harrison, who’d just walked into the ballroom.
A moment later, Clementine was clutching the arm Harrison had extended to her, looking for all intents and purposes as if she was the cat who’d been given a very large dish of cream.
Unable to help but notice that Harrison seemed to be less than affected by the great deal of lash fluttering sent his way from a now beaming and slightly smug-looking Clementine, Gertrude felt her lips twitch before she turned back to the crowd that had assembled in the ballroom. Glancing over the guests who seemed to be enjoying themselves as they sampled delicacies from the many trays being offered to them by members of the staff, Gertrude set about the daunting task of trying to run Mrs. Davenport to ground yet again. She could only hope that during the time Mrs. Davenport had been at the hotel, she’d not yet delved into any mischief.
“There you are, Gertrude,” Permilia exclaimed, walking up to join her. “But where’s Harrison?”
“He’s being entertained by the oh-so-delightful Clementine Flowerdew, who practically accosted him the moment the poor man stepped into this room.”
Permilia’s brows drew together. “Did the two of you have a falling out on the way here?”
“Of course not. Why would you assume that?”
“Because it seems unusually cruel of you to throw Harrison to the wolves that way, or in this case, throw him to Clementine, especially considering Temperance disclosed to us how determined her cousin is to secure a proposal from him.”
Gertrude looked around, then leaned closer to Permilia and lowered her voice. “I’m afraid there was no choice but to leave Harrison to his own devices after I learned the Pinkerton detectives are prowling around this very hotel.”
Permilia reached out and gave Gertrude’s arm a bit of a rub. “Allow me to set your mind at ease. Mrs. Davenport has not been wandering about on her own. She was waiting for us in the lobby, and while I will admit she did seem to be slightly interested in the guests who were wandering about, most of whom were dripping in jewels, she abandoned that interest the moment I introduced her to Edwina.” Permilia nodded to where a small orchestra was setting up. “They’ve tucked themselves away behind the musicians and are having a lovely chat even as we speak.”
Instead of being put at ease, Gertrude felt a distinct trace of alarm run over her. “It’s never a good sign when Mrs. Davenport tucks herself away, even if she is in the presence of another lady.”
“There’s relatively little trouble she can find back there, Gertrude. Which is why I’m going to encourage you to relax your vigilance in keeping an eye on your companion, at least for the moment, which will then allow me to introduce you to a lovely gentleman by the name of Mr. Gilbert Cavendish.”
Before Gertrude knew it, Permilia was holding fast to her hand, pulling her across the ballroom floor at such a fast clip Gertrude was once again finding herself winded. Digging in her heels when she began feeling distinctly light-headed, she caught Permilia’s eye when her friend finally stopped and sent her a quirk of a brow.
“Do you not care to meet Mr. Cavendish?” Permilia asked.
“Not if I have to gallop across the room in order to become introduced to him since, if you’ve neglected to notice, I’m having difficulty breathing. And,” she continued when it looked to her as if Permilia was trying not to grin, “even though it’s troubling, not being able to breathe, I actually find it more troubling that you seem to have turned yourself into a matchmaker, first with Harrison, and now with this Mr. Cavendish.”
“Mr. Cavendish, or Gilbert, as I’m sure he’ll insist you call him, is a most charming man, possessed of a handsome face and pleasant disposition, along with being suitably ambitious, and”—she nodded somewhat smugly—“I’ve been told he’s related to the Earl of Strafford, as in a living and breathing aristocrat over in England.”
“You do realize there’d be little point in remarking on that relation if that aristocrat weren’t breathing, don’t you?”
Permilia patted Gertrude’s arm. “Now you’re simply being difficult. It wouldn’t hurt for you to at least meet Gilbert. As I mentioned, he’s charming.”
“Would you really point out anything to the contrary since it appears you’re anxious to see every wallflower married?” Gertrude asked, craning her neck in a futile attempt to locate her employer. “And, while it is sweet you’re so determined to marry me off, although I do believe you’re delusional, I really must go find Mrs. Davenport.”
“She’s fine.”
“Or so you keep claiming, but she won’t be fine with the Pinkerton men lurking about. She abhors men of that ilk, and I shudder to think what may happen if one of the detectives stumble upon her acting shifty.”
“She’s with Edwina, which should dispel your fears because I do think Mrs. Davenport, given the excitement she showed when I introduced her to Harrison’s sister, has pushed aside any thought of skullduggery, if only for this evening.”
Something unexpected began slithering down Gertrude’s spine, something she refused to contemplate. “Why do you think Mrs. Davenport was so anxious to become acquainted with Edwina?”
“I believe Edwina proclaiming after she was introduced to Mrs. Davenport that she would be forever in that woman’s debt if Mrs. Davenport might consider bringing her out into society had something to do with the enthusiasm Mrs. Davenport is now displaying.”
Gertrude rubbed at the stitch in her side. “And that enthusiasm, which has the makings of disaster written all over it, is exactly why I need to run Mrs. Davenport to ground.”
Striding through the ballroom again, Gertrude ignored that her rapid pace was making her light-headed again, but she was forced to a stop before she reached the orchestra when Permilia stepped directly in front of her, blocking her forward momentum.
“I get the curious feeling you’re worried about something more than Mrs. Davenport’s propensity for shenanigans.” And with that, Permilia took a firm grip on Gertrude’s arm, and without a by-your-leave, she marched Gertrude over to the far side of the ballroom. Pushing her through a door that led to a wooden veranda, she dropped her hold on Gertrude’s arm and lifted her chin.
“So . . . out with it,” she said.
“I already told you, I’m just out of sorts because you and I both know this is not an atmosphere Mrs. Davenport behaves well in. There are shiny jewels all over the place, and it’s only a matter of time until something catches her interest, and then, well, with the Pinkerton men here, there’s every chance she’ll get caught before I’m able to make things right for her.”
“Mrs. Davenport travels to public places within the city often, and I’ve never gotten the slightest hint from you that she behaves poorly in those places. From what I’ve observed, she restricts her unusual habit to private parties and dinners.”
“There’s always a first time for everything.”
“What’s really bothering you?”
“You’re very annoying.”
Permilia’s only response to that was a quirk of a delicate brow.
Throwing up her hands, Gertrude moved to the veranda railing and leaned against it. Taking a moment to gather thoughts that turned out to be rather disturbing, she finally turned back to Permilia and released a bit of a sigh.
“It concerns me that Mrs. Davenport is taking such an interest in Edwina because she’s never taken an interest in sponsoring a lady before, at least not since I’ve been in her employ. I simply don’t understand why she’d take that interest now, and what it may mean for my continued em
ployment with her.”
Permilia’s forehead furrowed. “I would have to imagine, what with the attention Harrison has shown you, no matter that ridiculous proclamation he made regarding not having time for ladies, that Mrs. Davenport is now concerned that you may soon leave her employ. Because of that, it’s logical to assume her interest in Edwina is an attempt to fill a void she may soon find in her life—that void being the absence of you.”
Gertrude drummed her fingers against the railing. “No, I don’t believe that’s it. It’s more likely she’s growing bored with me and finds Edwina far more fascinating. In all honesty, I can’t say I blame her since Edwina is such a darling lady. But because she’s so darling and not boring, I’ll soon find myself out on the streets, seeking new employment.”
“Surely you must know you’re not meant to continue indefinitely as a paid companion, don’t you?”
Because Permilia’s tone was now edged with disbelief, Gertrude felt her lips begin to curve. “Even though you are my dearest friend, Permilia, you seem to be suffering from a little touch of delusion of late. And, while I realize an unusual pattern seems to be developing—one that has wallflowers, you and Wilhelmina Radcliffe to be exact, turning their backs on their walls and being whisked directly into new, romance-filled lives—that is not a circumstance I ever see happening to me. That means I fully intend to continue as a paid companion, but am now faced with the idea that I might need to start looking for a new lady to be a companion to.”
“That’s not a good plan at all, especially since I don’t see any reason for you not to enjoy a romance-filled life,” Permilia argued. “Romance, as can be seen in my case, is not simply for the fashionable set. You, my dear friend, are a delightful lady, and that is why you will find romance in your future, as well as your own very special gentleman.”
“I’m ordinary, Permilia, and a realist. That means I’ve become content living my life in a less than exciting fashion, knowing there is little chance I’ll ever make a match of it with some special gentleman. As far as I’m concerned, there’s absolutely no reason to believe that I’ll ever be anything but a paid companion, supplementing my income by teaching a few classes at Miss Snook’s School for the Education of the Feminine Mind.”
“You’re not meant to live an ordinary life, Gertrude.”
“As friends, allow us to agree to disagree on that.”
Permilia shook her head. “I most certainly will not agree to that, but because we are friends, I’m going to beg a moment more of your time to explain why I’m right and you’re wrong.”
“Since this is your night, there’s really no need for you to beg. It’s not as if I’m going to bolt for the door to avoid whatever argument you’re about to make, especially since air is a commodity I’m currently in short supply of, which makes even the thought of bolting somewhat prohibitive.”
Leaning back against the railing, Permilia smiled. “And that makes you my captive audience, so without further ado, allow me to tell you about a sermon Asher and I had the privilege of listening to in a small church located in Five Points.”
“You’ve been attending church in Five Points?”
“Some of the students at Miss Snook’s school spoke highly of this particular church, or more specifically, of Reverend Mingott’s refreshingly simple sermons.”
“Since this Reverend Mingott’s church is in Five Points, may I assume his sermon dealt with accepting the hand God has given a person and being grateful for that hand?”
Permilia laughed. “One would think that would be an appropriate topic for Reverend Mingott’s congregation, but no.” She immediately sobered. “His message that day centered around the notion of being ordinary and living an ordinary life.”
“Which I would imagine is a state of living he encourages his parishioners to embrace since they live in the worst part of the city.”
“On the contrary,” Permilia countered. “Reverend Mingott encouraged just the opposite, although he began the sermon about an ordinary man who believed he was living life in a contented manner. Reverend Mingott then continued on by explaining that the man participated in ordinary activities, worked an ordinary job, visited every so often with people who embraced the same liking for ordinary experiences, and ended with how the man felt he was doing everything that God would expect of him since he was living a life that might not be exceptional, but was far from dismal.”
Permilia smiled. “Reverend Mingott then made one of the most poignant points I’ve heard in years. He looked out over the congregation and said that even though this man believed he was living a life God would find pleasing—an ordinary life if you will—he was doing nothing of the sort because . . . God doesn’t expect His children to live ordinary lives, but extraordinary ones.”
“Not everyone is capable of living those extraordinary lives, Permilia,” Gertrude pointed out.
“Well, no, not unless a person is willing to give up living an ordinary life on her own and hand that life over to God, trusting Him to lead the way to the path of extraordinary.” Permilia moved to Gertrude’s side. “That, my dear, dear friend, is what I know God expects and wants for you.”
Blinking away tears that had taken her by surprise, Gertrude drew in a breath and forced a smile, unwilling to tell Permilia exactly why she was certain God wanted nothing of the sort for her. She and God had been at odds for years, though she was not a woman who’d turned her back completely on her faith. But because of what she’d endured with her mother years before, along with what had happened to her father, she was not one to put much stock in the belief that God had anything of an extraordinary nature for her to experience in her life. Nor did she believe she deserved a life of anything other than ordinariness since she’d surely disappointed God with the way she’d handled her mother, a woman who’d descended into melancholy to such an extent that she’d—
“Ah, ladies, there you are,” Mrs. Davenport called as she stepped onto the veranda, her arm firmly entwined with Edwina’s. “I’ve been sent to fetch the both of you, or at least you, Permilia, because a most charming gentleman by the name of Mr. Gilbert Cavendish has just announced that dinner will be served soon. He also asked me to tell you that before that dinner is served, he’s arranged to have the orchestra play a special melody for a special dance, one he chose specifically for you and Asher.”
“I wonder if Mr. Cavendish mentioned to Asher that he and I would be opening up the evening with a special dance?” Permilia asked no one in particular before she headed for the door, mentioning something about needing to make certain the special dance wasn’t a quadrille.
Smiling after her friend, Gertrude was soon joined at the railing by Mrs. Davenport and Edwina.
“Isn’t this a most splendid evening?” Mrs. Davenport began as she stopped directly in front of Gertrude and smiled.
“It’s been an interesting one,” Gertrude said, not caring for the sudden glint that stole into Mrs. Davenport’s eyes or the way she squared her shoulders, which was something Mrs. Davenport always did right before she divulged news of the concerning type.
“I suppose it is interesting at that, but I know you’ll find your evening much improved by what I’m about to disclose—that I’ve decided to . . .” She paused, drew in a breath, but before she could speak, Edwina, looking as if she were about to burst, spoke up.
“Hester wants to repair to Newport for the summer instead of staying in New York,” Edwina exclaimed. “And . . . she’s offered to introduce me into Newport high society.”
“Who in the world is Hester?” Gertrude asked slowly.
Edwina’s smile faltered as she glanced to Mrs. Davenport. “Did I mishear you when you encouraged me to use your given name?”
Mrs. Davenport sent a quick glance Gertrude’s way before she looked back at Edwina and smiled brightly. “Not at all, dear. My name is Hester.”
“I thought your name was Agnes, not that you ever encouraged me to use it,” Gertrude said as a temper she�
�d not been expecting crawled through her veins and her cheeks began to heat. “And, if you’ll recall, you and I agreed, Mrs. Davenport, that I, being your very weary companion after an eventful winter social season, deserve to spend the summer in New York, far away from society events and obligations.”
Edwina raised a hand to her throat, looking rather horrified. “On my word, do forgive me, Gertrude. I had no idea you’d find this news distressing. Do know that I certainly will not press Mrs. Davenport to still take me to Newport because, clearly, you have no desire to go there.”
Mrs. Davenport, to Gertrude’s annoyance, beamed an even brighter smile Edwina’s way. “Of course we’ll go to Newport. We’ve simply taken Gertrude by surprise.” She leaned closer to Edwina and lowered her voice, although it was not so low Gertrude couldn’t hear her. “Gertrude does not care for surprises, you see, but mark my words, once she has time to grow accustomed to the idea, she’ll be pleased with our decision.”
Gertrude lifted her chin. “I won’t grow accustomed to this idea.”
“Think of how fresh the air always is in Newport, and think how delightful it’ll be for you to go to the Newport Casino and actually have someone to play tennis with, because Edwina’s already mentioned to me she enjoys that activity.” Mrs. Davenport nodded. “It’ll be a pleasant time for both of you.”
“It’ll be exhausting for me, as you very well know.”
Mrs. Davenport’s bottom lip began to quiver, which barely moved Gertrude at all. But when an honest-to-goodness tear leaked out of her eye, Gertrude threw up her hands.
“Fine, we’ll go to Newport.”
Dashing the tear straight off her face, Mrs. Davenport clapped her hands in delight. “Wonderful! And now that we’ve settled on that, do know that we’ll need to be on our way by the end of this week.”
Chapter
Eleven
