For some reason, Walter released a grunt.
“Why are you grunting at me?”
He narrowed an eye on her. “Because, if I’m not mistaken, we’re once again talking about Thurman because you’re still wondering if he’d be a good candidate for Elizabeth Ellsworth or Hannah Howe.”
“Perhaps I am, but you must realize that the Season isn’t all about you. I’m obligated to apply myself to the plight of the ladies Mrs. Parker is sponsoring as well. Besides that, Mrs. Parker has her eye on a diamond-studded choker she saw in the small Tiffany shop down by the Newport Casino. The only way she’ll come into possession of that is if she, with my assistance of course, fulfills her promise to Hannah Howe’s mother.”
“She may have her eye on a diamond choker, but she accepted a diamond bracelet from me, handed over to her with the expectation you would make a concerted effort to find me a wife. You don’t seem to be directing much attention my way, because you only have one viable option for me right now, that being Cordelia Lowe—although I’m not sure you’ve completely taken Elizabeth Ellsworth out of the running. Truth be told, I don’t think you’re putting much effort into finding a lady for me because you seem to be matching up everyone except me and thereby decreasing the number of eligible ladies for me to consider.”
“You should think of that as a strategy I’m employing to remove ladies who aren’t your match from your orbit, while also allowing poor Mrs. Parker to acquire jewelry her husband refuses to purchase for her.” Gwendolyn gave a wave of her hand toward Mrs. Parker, who was sitting in her wheeled chair under a tree, a footman standing behind her waiting to wheel her into the church once the crowd thinned out. “She gets great pleasure from her jewelry collection. In fact, it took quite a bit of coercing from me to convince her the tiara delivered to her cottage from E. J. this morning was not appropriate to wear to church.”
Walter pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re deliberately avoiding my accusation of not devoting enough time to my situation.”
Gwendolyn let that settle for a moment before she bit her lip. “You may have a point.”
“You’re agreeing with me?”
She rolled her eyes. “There’s no need to sound so incredulous. I’m not a lady who believes I’m always right. In all truthfulness, my attention has been directed elsewhere. But since you’ve kindly pointed out my neglect, I’ll make a concerted effort to focus on you for the entirety of this new week. You mark my words, we’ll soon have a concise list of appropriate names for you, and then you can spend the next few weeks escorting those appropriate ladies about Newport. Hopefully, you’ll discover a spark with one of them, and then I’ll be able to close my notepad on your case and move on to another.”
“I don’t need a spark. I only need a lady who possesses a semblance of maternal instincts.”
“And I respectfully disagree with that. Yes, maternal instincts will be necessary because you have children, but a spark . . . Well, that will allow you and a new wife to enjoy a marriage instead of merely endure it.”
She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small calendar. “We need to pencil in a time where I can finally learn more about you: activities you enjoy, what your favorite foods are, what type of animals you like—ponies clearly not being at the top of your list—and if there are any specific ladies you’ve spoken with in Newport whom you’d like to speak with further.” She ran a finger over her calendar. “It looks as if I’m supposed to accompany Mrs. Parker to Henri Bendel’s emporium for shopping tomorrow, but I’m certain she’ll be receptive to my meeting with you instead.”
“I won’t be in Newport tomorrow. I’ll be back in the city.”
She abandoned her calendar. “What do you mean, you’ll be back in the city?”
“I only come to Newport on the weekends, or more specifically, Friday afternoon until late Sunday afternoon, because I have a business to run during the week.”
“At no point have you mentioned that to me.” She leaned forward. “The Newport Season is abbreviated as it is. If you expect me to find you an appropriate wife when you’re only here on the weekends, you’ve taken leave of your senses because that’s an impossible feat.”
Walter quirked a brow. “You appear to be a woman who enjoys challenges. I’m certain if you embrace my situation as exactly that, you’ll be able to rise to the occasion magnificently.”
“Nice try, Walter, but there’s no way I’m going to rise to this occasion, even with you throwing down what is obviously a gauntlet.” She shook her head. “No, you, I’m afraid, are going to have to be the one to make concessions, starting with your promise you’ll make arrangements that will allow you to be in Newport seven days a week beginning next weekend at the latest.”
“I’m in the middle of acquiring new real estate. I don’t have time to twiddle my thumbs during the week when there are so many intricate details still needing to be attended to.”
“Don’t you have managers who could take up some of your business load?”
“Of course, but I prefer to have a hand in every Townsend business deal I broker. That’s why I need to return to the city, and why I won’t be able to accommodate your demand that I clear my schedule for the summer.”
Gwendolyn stuffed her notepad, pencil, and calendar into her reticule and got to her feet. “Then you’re going to have to find yourself a new matchmaker, because even Mrs. Parker will agree that you’ve given us an impossible task.”
She turned on her heel, paused, and looked back over her shoulder. “And before you remind me that Mrs. Parker already accepted a bracelet from Tiffany’s as a token of good faith to sponsor you, know that I’ll remind her you never mentioned you’d be absent from Newport most of the Season. She’ll not like that, and will certainly believe you withheld that pertinent information on purpose.
“When I refuse to continue with your case, her annoyance over the matter will certainly increase when she realizes she’ll either need to personally take up your case—which she’ll know is going to be impossible to successfully complete—or return the Tiffany bracelet to you in a gesture of goodwill, a gesture she’ll be less than gracious about making. I assure you, either of those options will not sit well with Mrs. Parker, who may seem like a dear, charming woman at times, but who is nothing of the sort.”
Sixteen
Thirty-five minutes later, Walter found himself experiencing a bit of a novel situation as he sat in the enclosed Townsend family pew, waiting for a service delayed because Reverend Eberhard had decided to rework his sermon, trying to ignore the irritated glances being cast his way from more than a few members of the feminine persuasion.
It was no surprise Gwendolyn was annoyed with him, but it was unnerving how Mrs. Parker kept swiveling her head from where she sat on the main floor of the church to glare at him as he sat in his balcony pew.
Granted, he should have been expecting the glares because to say Mrs. Parker had been annoyed to learn he intended to head back to the city for the week was an understatement. She’d not hesitated to launch into a lecture of magnificent proportions, telling him in no uncertain terms he needed to rethink his priorities.