Their lack of acknowledgment wasn’t much of a surprise, because when she’d first arrived in Newport and accompanied Mrs. Parker to Mrs. Elbridge Gerry’s pre-Season picnic, young ladies and their mothers had been only too keen to make Gwendolyn’s acquaintance—until they learned she was in Mrs. Parker’s employ. That information spread like wildfire, and after everyone realized she was not in Newport as competition, not one lady bothered to speak with her again.
At first, she’d been taken aback to find herself slighted, because she’d never experienced being labeled an outcast before. Truth be told, after spending the past several years traveling the world with Catriona, she’d grown accustomed to being well received by aristocrats, foreign leaders, and a variety of diplomats in whatever country they were visiting.
Granted, her reception in those far-off lands was directly connected to Catriona, who’d been a world-renowned opera singer before she’d fallen madly in love with Mr. Barnabas Zimmerman and left opera behind without a backward glance. Barnabas had been an industrial titan, and until his unexpected death after a short illness had showered Catriona with affection and love, leaving her despondent after he died, as well as a very wealthy widow.
When it became clear Catriona was becoming a shadow of her former self, Gwendolyn had taken matters into her own hands. She’d always considered herself an unconventional woman and, unlike most of her friends, had never longed to marry right out of the schoolroom and settle into wedded bliss. Because of that, she’d not hesitated to insist Catriona embark with her on a world tour, taking on the role of her cousin’s companion—a position Catriona wholeheartedly approved of, because when she wasn’t despondent, she knew full well she was capable of attracting trouble on a concerningly frequent basis.
Traveling the world had seen Catriona begin to heal from the devastation of losing her Barnabas, while Gwendolyn had been given the privilege of meeting fascinating people who genuinely seemed to enjoy spending time in her company.
But not once in her travels had she run across the blatant snobbery she was encountering in Newport. She’d been warned that Newport was one of the most pretentious summer retreats in the country, but not putting much stock in the warnings, she’d accepted Mrs. Parker’s offer.
She’d believed summering in Newport as a paid companion would provide her with a much-needed rest from her travels, as well as a well-deserved reprieve from her cousin. Unfortunately, rest and relaxation seemed in short supply these days.
“Ladies, good heavens,” Mrs. Parker barked, snapping Gwendolyn back to the situation at hand. “Have you failed to notice that Miss Brinley is trying to push me to the other side of the ballroom? She certainly can’t be expected to plow through all of you, unless she doesn’t mind taking out a few of your limbs, which I’m going to assume she would mind. You need to make a path for us—and quickly, if you please.”
A chorus of apologies rang out before the young ladies glided out of the way, leaving Gwendolyn free to wheel Mrs. Parker across the floor. She maneuvered the wheeled chair into the spot directly beside Mrs. Ryerson, who didn’t look overjoyed to be joined by the illustrious matchmaker. The lady’s lips thinned before she began taking a marked interest in the orchestra—not that Mrs. Parker noticed, because she was squinting at something across the room.
“Ah, there he is,” Mrs. Parker proclaimed. “And thank goodness, Miss Pierpont hasn’t joined him yet. I’m not certain you’re ready to go up against a matchmaker of her repute.”
“I’m not up for going against any matchmaker, whether they’re possessed of a wonderful repute or not. To remind you, yet again, I accepted a paid-companion position with you, not matchmaker.”
“Assistant matchmaker, dear. You don’t have the experience needed to be a true matchmaker.”
“I’m not qualified to be an assistant matchmaker either. Frankly, I’ve been thinking I should do both of us a favor and bow out of your employ before I prove how unqualified I am. From what you’ve told me, you never fail with making splendid matches. I would hate to be responsible for your suffering a failure this Season.”
“I have every confidence you’ll rise magnificently to your assistant-matchmaking position,” Mrs. Parker countered. “You, out of any of the candidates the agency sent me when my last companion left without notice, impressed me with your no-nonsense attitude and your air of competency. Add in the notion you were a paid companion of Catriona Zimmerman, a lady known for her temperamental nature when she was Catriona Sullivan, the opera singer, and I believe you’ll find your summer as my assistant matchmaker downright successful.”
“I beg to differ. I have no qualifications as a matchmaker and am doomed for failure. That will reflect poorly on you and is exactly why you should contact the employment agency again and have them send you actual matchmaker candidates.”
Mrs. Parker waved Gwendolyn’s declaration aside. “Matchmakers aren’t a dime a dozen, Miss Brinley. I highly doubt the agency has any candidates qualified for the position I need fulfilled.” She gestured across the ballroom. “With that out of the way, your first task awaits you underneath that chandelier—Mr. Walter Townsend.”
A knot immediately developed in Gwendolyn’s stomach before she settled a frown on Mrs. Parker. “Didn’t you tell me Walter Townsend is considered the catch of the Season?”
“Indeed. And as such, it would be a true feather in my cap if we landed him for one of our young ladies.” Mrs. Parker rubbed her hands together. “I adore my feathers, so off you go. And remember, I’m counting on you to not let me down.”
Two
The knot in Gwendolyn’s stomach increased when she turned her attention Walter Townsend’s way and discovered him surrounded by a throng of young ladies doing their best to attract his attention.
Fans were being plied with languid grace, lashes were fluttering like a chorus of butterflies, and well-practiced smiles weren’t wavering, each of those smiles settled firmly on the catch of the Season.
Gwendolyn swallowed and returned her attention to Mrs. Parker. “I don’t believe now is an opportune moment to approach Mr. Townsend. He seems rather occupied.”
“Of course he’s occupied. He’s the most in-demand gentleman of the Season, and for good reason. Not only has he been described as boyishly handsome—what with that floppy dark hair of his that is always falling over his forehead—he’s in possession of one of the largest fortunes in the country. He’s merely thirty-three years of age. Most gentlemen don’t secure that type of wealth until they’re much older.”
Gwendolyn forced her attention back to Walter, who was bending his head close to Miss Elizabeth Ellsworth and smiling—a good sign, considering Miss Ellsworth was one of Mrs. Parker’s young ladies.
“I definitely shouldn’t interrupt now. He seems to be engaged in conversation with Miss Ellsworth, and . . .” Gwendolyn winced. “Oh dear, another young lady has shouldered Elizabeth out of the way and taken her spot beside Mr. Townsend.”
Mrs. Parker craned her neck, her eyes narrowed on the lady who’d displaced Miss Ellsworth. “Miss Tillie Wickham. Why am I not surprised? She’s a brash young lady and was the one responsible for blackening Miss Cordelia Lowe’s eye on the tennis court the other day. The very idea she just shoved our delightful Miss Ellsworth aside is not to be borne, which means you’ll need to intervene.”