“You got beat,” Priscilla said.
“I can’t argue with that.”
“But you didn’t start crying,” Samuel said, as if that were worthy of a badge of honor.
“I would never cry over something as trivial as a game of tennis.”
“Everyone was cheering for you,” Priscilla proclaimed.
“The cheering might have been why Miss Wickham and Mr. Damrosch really turned up the heat on your last two games,” Oscar said, stopping beside Gwendolyn and sending her a grin. “But you did put some impressive effort into staying in the game, Miss Brinley, as did Mr. Ryerson.”
“I’m of the belief you actually won the day in the end,” Walter said, strolling up to join her. He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I couldn’t help but notice your oh-so-subtle matchmaking efforts before the game. I felt you were wrong when you said Hannah was suited for someone with a romantic, chivalrous nature. But after August saved you from a tennis ball that would have certainly hit its mark, something that left Hannah looking at him in awe, well, it was clear you were quite right.”
Gwendolyn glanced to where Hannah and August were now beaming at each other, although it was hard to tell for certain if that’s what August was doing, because he had a towel pressed up against his nose, obscuring his face. “Two birds with one stone there,” she said as Phyllis Duveen, with Adelaide by her side, hurried up to join them.
Given the worry etched on Phyllis’s face, Gwendolyn reached out and took hold of her hand, giving it a squeeze. “There’s no need to look so concerned, Phyllis,” she began. “I’m not upset we lost. In fact, I’m unbelievably relieved August and I survived the match.”
Phyllis’s grip tightened on Gwendolyn’s hand. “I thought you handled yourself magnificently on the court, dear. You were very gracious and never suggested the match be forfeited, which shows you and August are possessed of great fortitude. The match, however, is not why I’ve come to speak to you.”
“It’s not?”
“I’m afraid not.” Phyllis blew out a breath, exchanged a worried look with Adelaide, then caught Gwendolyn’s eye. “Forgive me for being the bearer of bad news, but I feel it’s better to warn you than have you get taken by surprise. Your grandmother, Opal Brinley, is here.”
Gwendolyn blinked. “She’s already in Newport?”
“Indeed, and worse yet, she’s here at the Newport Casino.”
Twenty-Seven
Walter immediately exchanged places with Adelaide and took hold of Gwendolyn’s arm. “Allow me to escort you home. My driver can pick us up at the entranceway so there’ll be no need for you to get near your grandmother.”
Gwendolyn’s nose shot into the air even as she shook her head. Her refusal of a speedy retreat wasn’t exactly a surprise. If he’d learned anything about her, it was that she didn’t shy away from contentious situations.
That thought had been reinforced by Catriona as she’d regaled him and the children with stories of what he assumed were her more respectable misadventures, ones that were always rectified by Gwendolyn stepping in and setting matters to rights, no matter what odds she had to face down to do so.
“While that’s kind of you to offer, Walter,” Gwendolyn began, drawing him from his thoughts, “if you’ll recall, I drove myself here using one of Mrs. Parker’s horses and a wagonette. We also promised the children the treat of an ice cream, and I have no intention of denying them that treat. However . . .” She glanced at the children and smiled. “Our treats will need to wait for just a bit, because I feel the most compelling urge to have a word with my grandmother.”
Priscilla wrinkled her nose. “You don’t look like you’re going to have a nice word with her, Miss Brinley. Don’t you like your grandmother?”
“An interesting question, Priscilla, and one I can’t give you an honest answer to, because, frankly, I don’t know the woman. But that’s a story for another day.” She handed her racquet to Oscar. “Would you be so kind as to watch over this for me? It may be best if I don’t have a readily accessible weapon on hand for the foreseeable future.”
“I thought that’s a tennis racquet,” Samuel said, peering at the racquet as if he thought it might suddenly turn into a pistol.
“It is indeed a tennis racquet,” Gwendolyn returned. “ How silly of me to suggest otherwise.”
She nodded to Phyllis. “Odd that I need to ask this, but which lady is my grandmother?”
Phyllis began fanning her face with her hand. “I’m not certain I should tell you that because your grandmother is in the company of Mrs. Higgenson. As you’ve already been apprised, that society matron has it out for you.”
“And doesn’t that sound exactly like a challenge, so . . . where are they?”
Phyllis gestured to where a gathering of ladies had assembled underneath a shade tree. “Your grandmother is in the green afternoon gown. Mrs. Higgenson is the lady beside her in pink.”
“Lovely,” Gwendolyn said briskly. “If everyone will excuse me? This won’t take long.” She stalked into motion, her every step filled with determination.
“You need to go with her,” Phyllis said, giving Walter a less than subtle nudge.
“My thoughts exactly.”
Walter nodded to Oscar. “You’ll watch over the twins until I return?”
“Don’t I always?” Oscar asked, an underlying trace of something concerning in his tone.
“Why do I get the distinct impression there’s something you’re not saying?”
Oscar shrugged. “Maybe there is, maybe there isn’t.”
Knowing now was hardly the time to discuss the matter further because he had to ascertain Gwendolyn didn’t suffer any repercussions from her decision to confront her grandmother, Walter considered Oscar for a moment. “I think it’s past time you and I set aside an evening to discuss what’s been bothering you of late.”
It was less than encouraging when Oscar’s only response was a rolling of his eyes. But confident his son could be trusted, as always, to look after the twins, Walter strode after Gwendolyn, catching up with her right as she sailed her way through the throng of ladies gathered around her grandmother, not bothering to stop until she stood a mere foot from the woman.
“Grandmother!” Gwendolyn exclaimed in a downright chirpy voice. “How lovely to see you in Newport, although I wasn’t expecting you to get here quite so rapidly. I only recently learned Mrs. Higgenson extended you such a thoughtful invitation. Why, you must have packed your bags the moment you received it and hightailed it to Newport.”
Given that Opal Brinley’s mouth was now slightly agape, it was evident she’d not been expecting a direct confrontation from her granddaughter, but Gwendolyn didn’t stop with her chirpy greeting. No, she moved closer, beaming a smile all the while, then kissed Opal soundly on the cheek, stepping back a moment later.
To Walter’s concern, Opal’s nose shot into the air, quite like Gwendolyn’s had recently done. She then released a sniff and moved to turn her back on her granddaughter, foiled in her attempt to give Gwendolyn the cut direct when Gwendolyn took hold of her grandmother’s arm, her smile disappearing as ice settled in her eyes.