“Children, get back,” she called to Priscilla and Samuel, before she snatched the knife she’d tucked into her pocket to use if the fishing lines got tangled and pulled Oscar beside her, brandishing the knife toward Oscar’s taut fishing line as the fish broke the water’s surface again.
“What are you doing?” Oscar demanded.
“Shark” was all she said, stepping in front of him. Before she could cut the line though, the shark surged out of the water, opening its mouth and showing sharp teeth right before it snapped up the fish flailing about on the end of Oscar’s line.
“Let go of the pole, Oscar!” Gwendolyn yelled.
Before Oscar could do that, he stumbled backward, taking his pole with him, which then caused what was left of the fish to go whizzing its way out of the water.
Unfortunately, what was left of the fish was only the head, and given the previous tautness of the line before the shark devoured its snack, the head catapulted though the air, zooming over the shore to land with a splat in front of the horrified gazes of Priscilla and Samuel.
It came as no surprise when shrieking immediately commenced.
Twenty-One
“Walter, wait up.”
Turning, Walter found Gideon Abbott striding toward him on the dirt pathway that wound through Bayside Farm, the one the butler had directed him to, telling him it would lead him to Ward McAllister’s afternoon picnic.
“When we spoke at the Union Club on Monday, you didn’t tell me you were going to be returning to Newport early,” Walter said once Gideon reached his side.
Gideon shrugged. “I managed to clear my desk of paperwork and decided it might be amusing to return a few days early, especially when you mentioned you were doing the same. My butler told me about McAllister’s picnic. Ward always puts on a good spread, so here I am. I’m surprised to see you here though. You mentioned at the Union Club you wanted to begin spending more time with your children.”
Walter started down the path again, Gideon falling into step beside him. “I’m only here because when I arrived at Sea Haven I learned my entire family is here. I figured I’d hardly be able to start vanquishing the guilt regarding the neglect of my children if I didn’t hop on my horse and gallop to Ward’s event.”
Gideon frowned. “As I mentioned after you told me about your guilt, you and I didn’t get much attention from our fathers growing up and we turned out alright.”
“True, but Oscar’s friend, Sherman Kenton, seems to bask in his father’s attention, something I believe Oscar envies. To give Mr. Kenton his due, he’s obviously realized my son needs a guiding hand in his life and has taken it upon himself to include Oscar in their family activities, such as fishing and learning how to ride a bicycle. I’m ashamed to admit it never crossed my mind to play a larger role in my children’s lives after Vivian died. I never realized I was being deficient as a father until Gwendolyn pointed it out to me last Sunday.”
“You threw yourself into your work after Vivian died, and no one can blame you for that.” Gideon stopped walking. “Her death was an unexpected tragedy, and you needed a diversion from your grief. You found that in your work. It’s how many gentlemen deal with sorrow.”
“I needed a distraction from my guilt,” Walter corrected.
Gideon shook his head. “It was not your fault Vivian died in childbirth.”
“I should have never listened to her when, after suffering such a difficult birth with Oscar, she insisted on trying to increase our family again.”
“Her doctors told her she was perfectly capable of giving birth.”
“Except they weren’t counting on twins.”
Gideon opened his mouth, but before he could voice an argument, Mrs. Wickham rounded a corner ahead of them, stopped walking when her gaze settled on Walter, and began strolling his way. She held out her hand once she reached him, which Walter took, placing a kiss on it as Mrs. Wickham released a titter.
“How wonderful to see you were able to make it back today, Mr. Townsend,” she began. “It would have been more wonderful, though, if you’d gotten here this morning when you were expected. If you’d been on time, you’d have seen the remarkable meal my Tillie sent to Sea Haven. Fortunately, your mother arranged with Mr. McAllister to serve that meal here, along with a few other meals delivered to your cottage today—none, of course, as tempting as the courses my Tillie arranged for you.”
Mrs. Wickham fluttered her lashes. “Do be sure to try the croquettes de homard in a Blue Willow serving dish. Tillie personally chose that entrée with you in mind.” After giving her hand to Gideon to kiss, Mrs. Wickham dipped into a curtsy and glided away, saying something about catching up with them later.
Gideon rubbed a hand over his face. “Any thoughts as to what that conversation was actually about?”
“Except for the idea society ladies have taken leave of their senses? No thoughts at all.”
Exchanging grins, they strode down the path again, Walter perfectly content to not resume the conversation he’d been having with Gideon, because his wife’s death wasn’t a time in his life he was comfortable dwelling on, although it was never out of mind for long.
Rounding a curve in the path, Walter slowed to a stop when Ward McAllister’s picnic, complete with at least a hundred guests, came into view.
There was no question Ward had outdone himself yet again.
A five-piece orchestra played beneath a shade tree, directly behind a gleaming wooden floor laid down for dancing.
Guests milled around a recently mowed field, the smell of freshly cut grass lingering in the air as butterflies flitted about and the sound of chirping birds mingled with refined laughter.
Ladies sported their most elaborate and colorful hats, while the gentlemen wore jackets over pristine shirts with paper collars, the heat of the day undoubtedly causing more than a few of them to regret the collars—not that any gentleman would remove a collar to find comfort, Walter included.
“I see Daniel Mizner is still hanging about Newport,” Gideon said, nodding to a dark-haired man standing next to a group of gentlemen surrounding a lady whose back was turned. “He made a point to seek me out last weekend, wanting me to invest in one of his harebrained ventures. I politely refused, as I always do, but I got the impression he was going to head back to the city to rustle up other investors. Looks like he changed his mind.” Gideon frowned. “Or perhaps, since it’s rumored he’s always short on funds, he’s decided it’s time to find himself a wealthy wife, which would explain why he’s positioned himself close to Gwendolyn.”
Walter’s gaze immediately settled on the lady with her back turned. “He’ll have a hard time convincing Gwendolyn to take him on. He’s an annoying sort, and Gwendolyn doesn’t suffer that type of nonsense graciously.”
Gideon grinned. “Your matchmaker does seem . . .”
Walter didn’t hear whatever else Gideon said, because Gwendolyn took that moment to turn, and the sight of her smiling at something someone had just said left his mind going curiously numb as his gaze traveled over her.
It came as little surprise she was looking very well indeed, dressed in an afternoon gown of ivory, paired with a matching ivory hat that had a simple band of green wrapped around it, holding a notepad in her gloved hand as she continued smiling at . . .