Wariness flickered through Clarence’s eyes. “And that would be?”
“Don’t start looking concerned,” Gwendolyn said, shoving another strand of soggy hair out of her eyes. “I merely need fifteen minutes of your time, at which point we’re going to have a dialogue about Miss Hannah Howe, whom, I understand, you’re interested in becoming better acquainted with.”
“I doubt it’ll take an entire fifteen minutes for me to explain my interest in Miss Howe,” Clarence countered. “We should be able to complete our discussion in five, which will then allow me to keep a scheduled appointment I have with a . . . ah . . . friend.”
Gwendolyn arched a brow. “Mrs. Lanier, I presume?”
He blanched. “You know Mrs. Lanier?”
“Not personally, but rumors have reached me about the two of you, which is why I’ll need fifteen minutes.” She nodded to a boulder jutting out beside the famous Cliff Walk that wound its way along the ocean, lending walkers an unparalleled view of the sea. “We can repair over there after we dry off. It’ll allow us privacy.”
Trepidation replaced the wariness in Clarence’s eyes. “We need privacy?”
“Indeed.”
Walter cleared his throat. “Since I may need some privacy as well, I’ll join you.”
“Absolutely not. That would defeat the purpose of my having a private chat with Clarence,” Gwendolyn argued.
Walter nodded to something in the distance. “Perhaps, but surely you’re not so cruel as to deny me an excuse to avoid all that, especially when it’s your fault I’ve been placed in such an unusual spot to begin with.”
Turning, Gwendolyn discovered a gathering of at least twenty ladies, many of whom were gesturing for Walter to join them. She caught Walter’s eye. “Don’t be such a coward. They’re merely young ladies who want to speak with you, which will then allow you to get to know them better and perhaps find a suitable candidate to become the next Mrs. Townsend.”
“I daresay any gentleman would be hesitant to find himself confronted with that many ladies at one time.”
She pulled a piece of seaweed from her sleeve. “You’re going to have to pluck up your courage at some point if you want to survive the summer with your nerves intact. But you did try to save me from a drowning, even though I didn’t need saving. I suppose, because of that, I could intercede a little on your behalf so you don’t find yourself inundated with admirers while I speak with Clarence.”
After telling Clarence she’d meet up with him directly, Gwendolyn headed across the beach, her sights on the ladies still aiming their attention Walter’s way. Stopping when she was a few feet away from them, she summoned up a smile and directed it all around, her smile dimming when she noticed Tillie Wickham dividing her attention between Walter and an ocean now roiling with waves.
One look at the glint in Tillie’s eyes was all Gwendolyn needed to know exactly what that lady was considering, and frankly, she wouldn’t be surprised if a few of the other more adventurous ladies were considering the same thing.
“While I know it must be tempting for some of you to follow suit and fling yourself into the Atlantic, hoping for a dramatic rescue from whatever gentleman you’ve set your eye on,” Gwendolyn began, earning startled looks, paired with quite a few guilty ones, “there’s a storm brewing, which means the ocean is the last place any of you should try out a would-be drowning.
“Besides, I’ve already done that today, so you might want to think up something more original. And . . .” She turned and nodded Walter’s way. “He’d never tell you this, because he’s a gentleman and would never care to hurt any feelings, but you’re overwhelming Mr. Townsend with your attention today. If you want to make a positive impression, I suggest you extend the man some breathing room and limit how many of you approach him at any given time.”
“Why are you taking it upon yourself to tell us this?” Tillie demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is it a ploy to get us to abandon our interest in Mr. Townsend so you can promote the two ladies everyone has recently learned Mrs. Parker is sponsoring—those being Miss Ellsworth and Miss Howe?”
Gwendolyn plucked a strand of seaweed from her cheek. “I doubt you’re going to believe me, but my advice is not a ploy. It’s merely a favor I’m doing for Mr. Townsend because he appears somewhat mortified by how his day is unfolding. Mortified is not a result I’m sure any of you were hoping to achieve, but far be it from me to try to lend any of you my counsel.”
She sent a wave in Walter’s direction. “Feel free to continue to monopolize his time, give his children gifts, and even try your hand at drowning. Although you may want to wait to flail in the ocean another day, since there’s a good chance, if too many of you attempt that all at once, one of you may very well drown because there won’t be enough available gentlemen to rescue you.”
With that, Gwendolyn turned and began striding away, unsurprised when mutters immediately commenced. Blowing out a breath, she realized there was every chance ladies would now do their utmost best to make her stay in Newport as unpleasant as possible. And the unpleasantness was certain to increase once they realized she was determined to help Mrs. Parker make the most spectacular matches of the Season for Elizabeth and Hannah, if only to prove to Walter he was completely off the mark about her matchmaking skills, or lack thereof.
Ten
That Gwendolyn Brinley was an unusual woman wasn’t up for debate, but even though Walter was convinced she was the bane of his existence, there was no denying he admired her competency. As a man of business, he valued competency, and while he didn’t know what Gwendolyn had said to the ladies gathered at Bailey’s Beach, he now found himself in the company of merely three women, all due to the intervention of a lady who’d sent him a wink in passing before she’d strolled past him on her way to have a tête-à-tête with Clarence Higgenson.
“I’m so grateful you didn’t incur any injuries from your heroic saving of Miss Brinley,” Tillie cooed as she sidled next to him. “What that woman was thinking, going after that child when she couldn’t swim, well, I’m sure I have no idea. I certainly wouldn’t be so foolish as to throw myself into the ocean, especially not when there’s a storm rolling in and I’d be putting the lives of whatever gentlemen felt compelled to rescue me in jeopardy.”
“My dear Miss Wickham, you know you’re only saying that because Miss Brinley suggested none of us follow her lead and take to the ocean in the hopes someone would jump in after us,” Cordelia Lowe said, settling eyes still ringed with shades of green and yellow on Tillie. “With that said, I would hope, if a child were drowning, all of us would do what was needed to save that child without a second’s hesitation.”
“But that boy wasn’t even drowning,” Tillie argued.
Cordelia gave a flutter of her lashes. “That boy is Mr. Townsend’s son Oscar, and his other two children would be Priscilla and . . .” She shot a glance to Elizabeth Ellsworth. “Were we in agreement his other son is Stanley?”
“I believe the general consensus was Samuel,” Elizabeth said, casting a warm smile Walter’s way before she returned her attention to Tillie and Cordelia. “With that settled, may I suggest the two of you seek out a bit of shade because it seems as if there’s an edge of contentiousness to the current conversation. I daresay the sweltering heat is responsible for that, but I’m afraid you’re making Mr. Townsend uncomfortable.”