“When discussing my new job requirements, you didn’t mention anything about my being expected to do any intervening. Frankly, I’m beginning to feel rather weak in the knees at the mere thought of interrupting Miss Wickham, who is now giggling into her handkerchief and won’t appreciate my disrupting her amusing time with Mr. Townsend.”
“You’re hardly the type of woman to suffer from weak knees, but I will apologize for constantly changing the requirements of your job. I’ve never had an assistant matchmaker before, so I’m making up job requirements as we go.”
“That’s hardly fair.”
“No one ever claimed life is fair.” Mrs. Parker nodded toward Walter again. “But the evening isn’t getting any younger, and I know you’re deliberately dawdling to avoid speaking with Mr. Townsend.”
Gwendolyn crossed her arms over her chest. “Too right I am. Sending me after our biggest fish first isn’t what I’d consider the best-laid plan. I should start with a smaller fish, perhaps Mr. E. J. Boettcher. If you’ll recall, I met him at Mrs. Gerry’s picnic, so he won’t find it odd if I show up at his side and begin speaking with him.”
“On the contrary, he’ll find that curious indeed since he couldn’t get away from you fast enough at the picnic.”
Gwendolyn tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I suppose that’s a valid point, as well as good reason for you to remove Mr. E. J. Boettcher from your list of eligible gentlemen. It was not well done of him to seek out an introduction to me and then flee from my presence the second he learned I’m in your employ and not a new addition to the society set.”
Mrs. Parker’s forehead furrowed. “I must admit I’ve been reconsidering my decision to let people know you’re in my employ. But in my defense, I had no idea at that time I was going to break my leg, leaving me no choice but to turn you into my assistant matchmaker.”
“You did seem determined to let everyone know I was your paid companion right off the bat.”
“At the time I thought it was prudent to do so.”
“Because?”
Mrs. Parker frowned. “Have you not looked in a mirror lately? You’re far too beautiful to ignore, what with that fiery hair and striking bone structure of yours, not to mention your green eyes. Gentlemen are drawn to women who look like you. I was concerned that, if everyone didn’t know you were my companion, you’d draw attention away from Miss Ellsworth and Miss Howe.”
She bit her lip. “I didn’t realize society would give you what almost amounts to a cut direct. That’s bound to make your new position a touch tricky to implement, but I say there’s no time like the present to see if you can overcome society’s lack of acknowledgment and attempt to obtain a short audience with Walter Townsend.”
Gwendolyn blinked. “I thought I was only supposed to observe gentlemen this evening.”
“That was before Tillie Wickham shoved our Elizabeth out of her way. You might as well, after your intervention, use the moment to your advantage and spend a few minutes probing Mr. Townsend’s deepest thoughts.”
“You definitely never mentioned anything about probing.”
“Well, now I have, and with that, time’s a wasting.” Mrs. Parker gave a waggle of her fingers in Walter’s direction. “Remember that enthusiasm is in order, and a smile wouldn’t be remiss either. Gentlemen always find smiling ladies far more appealing than scowling ones.”
Gwendolyn drew in a breath, slowly released it, and then summoned up a smile, one that left Mrs. Parker shaking her head.
“Good heavens, dear, I hope that’s not the only smile at your disposal, because it’s downright terrifying.”
Gwendolyn pressed her lips together before she tried again, and Mrs. Parker responded with a wince—hardly an encouraging sign.
“Maybe you should forget the smiling,” Mrs. Parker muttered.
“Agreed. Besides, since I doubt an intervention with Tillie Wickham is going to go well, it won’t matter if I’m smiling or not. Given her questionable temperament, I’ll be lucky to survive our encounter unscathed, although thank goodness she doesn’t seem to have brought her tennis racquet with her tonight.” With that Gwendolyn lifted her chin, sent a nod to Mrs. Parker, and began striding along the edges of the ballroom.
“This is the worst summer ever,” she muttered, edging around a lady whose perfume wafted over Gwendolyn like a heavy cloud, the scent so cloying it was difficult to breathe. Sneezing soon commenced, and after blotting a now-runny nose with a handkerchief, Gwendolyn continued on her way, the thought returning that her summer was going to be nothing less than dreadful when the lady drenched in perfume called after her that one shouldn’t attend balls when suffering from a summer cold, her comment leaving guests scrambling out of Gwendolyn’s way.
Three
With guests giving her a wide berth, that circumstance aided when Gwendolyn continued sneezing, she’d made it halfway across the ballroom when her path was suddenly blocked as a willowy older lady dressed in the first state of fashion wandered to a stop in front of her.
“This is your chance, Adelaide,” the lady began. “Many of the young ladies monopolizing Mr. Townsend’s attention have now been claimed for the next waltz. Since your dance card remains woefully empty, it’s the perfect opportunity for you to speak with him.”
The young lady in question, apparently Adelaide, drifted into view, the sight of her taking Gwendolyn by such surprise that it took a great deal of effort to keep her mouth from dropping open.
Adelaide was swathed in the expected pale colors young ladies wore to evening events, but that was the only thing expected about the gown she’d chosen to wear to Mrs. Astor’s ball.
Yards and yards of poufy fabric billowed around what might have been a slender frame, additional yards cascading over a bustle the size of which Gwendolyn had never seen before and hoped to never see again.
How Adelaide was capable of walking, let alone dancing, in such a bustle was beyond Gwendolyn, but she didn’t linger on that puzzle long, not when her gaze settled on the high neckline of Adelaide’s gown, or rather, the numerous frills wrapped around the young lady’s neck.
“I have no idea why you believe Walter Townsend will be keen to become acquainted with me, Mother,” Adelaide said. “No gentleman has longed to make my acquaintance over the numerous seasons I’ve been out. It’s highly unlikely someone of Mr. Townsend’s repute will view me any differently.”
“You’ve attracted plenty of attention over the years,” Adelaide’s mother argued.
“Not the right kind of attention—and the gentlemen you browbeat into dancing with me don’t count.”
“I’ve never once browbeaten Charles Wetzel, and he dances with you all the time.”
“That’s because Charles is my cousin, and he only dances with me because he’s more socially awkward than I am. If he at least takes to the floor with me, Aunt Petunia doesn’t nag as much.”
“My sister does know her way around a good nag.”
“It runs in the family.”
Gwendolyn grinned, finding herself hard-pressed to leave the amusing conversation she was blatantly eavesdropping on.