“Which is exactly why I want you to dance with her. Well, that and Mr. E. J. Boettcher mentioned his sisters believe Miss Bottleworth would be a fine lady for him to pursue.”
“If E. J. is considering pursuing her, why have me dance with her?”
“I have my reasons” was Gwendolyn’s only response to that.
Walter lifted his head, perused the ballroom, and to his concern, spotted E. J. in conversation with Mrs. Parker. His gaze shot back to Gwendolyn. “E. J. wouldn’t happen to be interested in having you and Mrs. Parker take him on this Season, would he?”
She settled a far-too-innocent smile on him. “I told him I didn’t have time to take on the responsibility of matchmaker for him.”
“Looks like he overruled your refusal since he’s now in earnest conversation with Mrs. Parker.” Walter rubbed a hand over his face. “I get the sneaking suspicion you expected he was going to do that and concluded he may soon be on your roster of people Mrs. Parker has agreed to sponsor. That suggests you want me to dance with Miss Bottleworth because you don’t know anything about her. And if she turns out to be a pleasant lady, as well as a chatty one, you can then use what I tell you about her to decide if you should match her up with E. J., which would then move you along on your way to becoming a competent matchmaker.”
“That nap really did wonders for your cognitive abilities.”
“So much so I now realize you’re using me in some type of reconnaissance mission.”
She surprised him when she sent him a cheeky grin. “Guilty as charged. But before you turn all indignant, if you find Frances Bottleworth captivating while dancing with her, I’ll abandon any idea I may have regarding her as a potential match for Mr. Boettcher—whom Mrs. Parker will assuredly take on to sponsor since he claims to have spare tiaras lying about.”
“But . . .”
“Unfair?” she finished for him with an arch of a brow. “I suppose it is, but you may consider it payment for the unenviable job I now find myself responsible for—that being managing your schedule.”
“I don’t enjoy being used in one of your reconnaissance schemes.”
“And I don’t enjoy your going behind my back to get Mrs. Parker’s agreement on matters such as how many dances you’ll dance, or with whom you’ll dine. Perhaps we’ll need to come to an understanding of how our relationship is going to proceed. Until then, I’m off to inform Miss Bottleworth of her good fortune. Since the waltz is due to commence soon, I suggest you follow not long behind me to claim your first dance partner. And Walter . . . ?”
She settled another innocent smile on him. “Do try to get Miss Bottleworth to disclose as much as you can about herself. That will go far in helping me decide if she’s a good match for you . . . or Mr. Boettcher—if as his sisters believe, she’s better suited to him. If that’s the case, I can see me scoring a second matchmaker win in the not-too-distant future.”
Fifteen
“I believe another word with you is in order,” Walter said, materializing beside Gwendolyn as she tucked the notepad she used to keep track of the tidbits she was amassing regarding society members into her reticule.
“Is this a word or is it going to be another diatribe?” she asked.
“A diatribe,” Walter didn’t hesitate to say. “You’ve somehow managed to remove yet another gentleman from the ranks of bachelors, leaving me besieged again.” Walter gave a jerk of his head to where E. J. Boettcher was assisting Miss Frances Bottleworth out of a two-seater phaeton that had pulled to a stop in front of Trinity Church, the flirtatious grins they were exchanging speaking volumes.
Gwendolyn raised a hand to her throat. “Oh, would you look at them? They seem completely besotted with each other, even though they only realized they’re obviously meant to be together last night at the Harper ball.” Her lips curved into a smile. “And not that I want to come across as a braggart, but you can’t deny I’m well on my way to achieving that status of exceptional assistant matchmaker. I highly doubt any matchmaker to date has been able to secure a match so quickly, or one that’s destined to become one of the great love connections of the year.” She caught Walter’s eye. “You should be delighted you were instrumental in helping me get those two lovebirds together.”
“Because of that conversation I told you I shared with Frances last night?”
“Exactly.”
Walter began looking decidedly grouchy. “It hardly seems fair I played a part in matching a gentleman who hasn’t put in nearly the amount of work I have on the marriage mart this Season. I don’t want to come across as a surly sort, but if memory serves, you promised you weren’t going to direct Frances Bottleworth in E. J.’s direction if I thought she might be a suitable candidate for me.”
Gwendolyn took hold of Walter’s arm and began walking with him toward Trinity Church, where parishioners were gathering by the front door, which was directly adjacent to a graveyard where many a late Newporter had been laid to rest. “You gave me no indication you were interested in continuing on with Frances, especially not after you decided to take Elizabeth Ellsworth in to dinner. If you’d been enthralled with Frances after your dance, I would have assumed you’d dine with her. Since that wasn’t the case, I felt free to take the information I gathered from you and pair it with information I got from E. J. when he asked me to join him for dinner at the ball. After I combined all I learned, it was obvious they were a match made in heaven.”
Walter’s brows drew together. “I didn’t realize you dined with E. J. last night, and am now feeling sufficiently slighted because you refused to dine with me.”
“It wouldn’t have been productive for you to dine with your matchmaker.”
“And that train of thought didn’t apply to E. J. as well?”
“Not when I didn’t have the slightest idea what E. J. was searching for in a potential spouse except that he was interested in securing a match complete with affection.”
She waved a hand toward where E. J. and Frances were now wandering arm in arm through the graveyard. “I’m now of the belief that matchmaking as a profession has far more worth than I once thought.”
Walter stopped walking, turning his back on the white church sporting a classic steeple that rose in stark relief against the storm clouds gathering in the sky. “I can’t argue with you about the merits of a good matchmaker since you’ve managed to convince most ladies to maintain their distance from me—except for the young ladies who were apparently focused on E. J. and didn’t bother to find out I now come with rules. With that said, though, I’m more than bewildered over how you managed to set up the Boettcher-Bottleworth merger so quickly.”
Her lips quirked. “Their surnames alone suggest they belong together. I mean, Boettcher and Bottleworth? That’s just too precious for words.”
“If you’re going down that route, I’m surprised you haven’t suggested I pay more attention to Suzette Tilden because Townsend and Tilden have the same alliteration.”
She tapped a gloved finger against her chin. “You know, I never thought about that.”