She was also a lady who bore a striking resemblance to Gwendolyn.
“I should have known better than to question the chances of something else unexpected being thrust in my direction,” Gwendolyn muttered.
“You know that lady?” Walter asked.
Gwendolyn gave a bob of her head. “She’s my cousin Catriona Zimmerman. Unfortunately, she possesses a most dramatic nature, as well as the ability to land herself in the midst of shenanigans that would put the antics we’ve experienced at the hands of society ladies this Season to shame.”
Twenty-Three
“I’m still not clear why you’re in Newport, Catriona,” Gwendolyn said, pausing as she rummaged through one of the trunks Catriona had brought for her. “You told me numerous times you were looking forward to spending the summer in the Berkshires with the Sullivan side of the family because you missed your aunt, my mother, as well as all of your cousins.”
Catriona Zimmerman set aside her third cup of coffee for the morning, the numerous cups clearly behind why she kept flittering around the room as Gwendolyn tried to locate one of the tennis ensembles Catriona assured her she’d remembered to pack. “I’m here, as I told you yesterday at that delightful Ward McAllister’s picnic—even though I arrived at his picnic uninvited after Mrs. Parker’s butler told me where I could find you—because you sent me a telegram. It was marked Urgent.”
“I thought you’d take that particular word as a sign you needed to ship my things without delay.”
Catriona shrugged a delicate shoulder. “I took urgent to mean you wanted me here as quickly as possible because you were in need of my assistance.”
“Assistance with what?”
“Your matchmaking endeavors,” Catriona said, gliding over to a divan upholstered in ivory and gracefully lowering herself onto it. “Matchmaking is not something you’ve ever done before, whereas I . . . Well, surely you remember when I had a hand in getting that lady in London, I believe her name was Lady Something or Other, engaged to that earl.”
“Lady Summerset and the Earl of Stratford were betrothed to each other from birth. You were simply at the ball where they made it official.”
“That’s merely your side of the story.”
“That was the story.”
Catriona released a sigh. “Why must you always be so argumentative? I’m here to help you.”
“If you find me challenging, by all means, return to the Berkshires, where, if you’ve forgotten, the Sullivans and Brinleys are holidaying. I’m sure you’ll find them to be far less argumentative.”
“I don’t want to return to the Berkshires. Yes, I enjoyed seeing everyone, but the atmosphere there is rather dull. I found myself growing restless, and I missed you. Life is very mundane when you’re not around.”
Gwendolyn abandoned the trunk and moved to sit beside her cousin. “You know it’s never good when you become restless. An admission like that is usually followed by one of your adventures or at the very least getting yourself into mischief. Remember when you grew restless on our trip out West and snuck off to visit a saloon? The next thing I knew you were challenged to a duel after accusing a man of cheating at cards.”
“He was cheating.”
“That’s beside the point. You shouldn’t have been in the saloon in the first place, even though you disguised yourself as a man.”
Catriona shrugged. “Barnabas taught me how to play poker, and I was afraid my poker skills were growing rusty. And I couldn’t very well have breezed into a rowdy saloon wearing a ballgown. That might have caused a riot.”
“You did cause a riot after it was revealed you were a lady when that man you accused of being a cheat snatched the hat from your head. You’re fortunate I took note of your interest in that saloon earlier and was able to intercede before matters got completely out of hand.”
“You do have an odd proclivity for knowing how to ruin my amusements.”
“Or keep you alive.”
The edges of Catriona’s lips quirked. “I suppose there is that.”
“Indeed, and while I understand how you may have become restless in the Berkshires, even though you were only there for a few weeks, Newport is not the place for you to find your next amusement.”
“Ward McAllister’s picnic was rather amusing yesterday, and while you’ve made it clear that, no matter the extent of my fortune, I won’t be accepted by the society set—given we Sullivans are Irish—darling Ward seems to think differently. He told me he’d be honored if I’d dust off my extraordinary vocal cords and sing at a ball he’s assisting a Mrs. Dickerman with at the end of the Season. He mentioned I would be the guest of honor.”
“You’ll be no such thing. You’ll merely be the former opera singer everyone will enjoy listening to but won’t bother to socialize with after you’ve completed your songs.”
“I definitely haven’t missed your quarrelsome nature,” Catriona grumbled.
“Another reason why you should return to the Berkshires.”
“Did you miss the part where I said I was bored? I’d much rather be here, helping you out.”
“The last thing I need is your assistance, because you have to realize you’ll be more of a hindrance than a help. Gentlemen become smitten with you at first glance. Besotted gentlemen are not going to endear me to society ladies, especially when many of those ladies will most assuredly be hoping to form attachments to the very gentlemen longing to spend their time in your company.”
“Perhaps one of these society gentlemen will become so smitten with me I’ll consider marrying again.”
“Oh . . . no,” Gwendolyn muttered as she rose to her feet. “You’ve been contemplating getting married again?”
“Well, no, and I’ll stop contemplating it now if you’ll agree to let me help you with matchmaking.”
“Absolutely not. You have to return to the Berkshires.”
Catriona tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “I’m not leaving. I’ve rented this cottage for the next two months, and I intend to stay here. You would not believe the effort it took for me to find lodgings at such short notice. It was only sheer luck a real estate broker in New York City was able to find me this delightful cottage. At first he told me it’s impossible to secure an acceptable place in Newport this late in the Season. The dear man only found success because the Green family unexpectedly quit Newport for some unknown reason, which put this cottage back on the market.”
“The Greens hightailed it out of Newport because society refused to grant them entrance into any society events, the embarrassment of that almost causing Mrs. Green, at least according to rumor, to suffer a nervous incident. You’re prone to nervous conditions as well, and when you realize society won’t embrace you with open arms, you’ll undoubtedly descend into one of your despondent states.”
“You’re more than adept at pulling me out of those states.”
“True, but if you’ve forgotten, I’m not here on holiday. That means I won’t have time to coddle you.”
Catriona began twirling a strand of her hair. “I distinctly remember you telling me that spending your summer in Newport was going to be a holiday for you.”