“Gideon seems to make himself readily available whenever you’re near an incline,” Gwendolyn said.
“He does have an uncanny knack for realizing when I’m about to plummet to my death or burst into flames,” Adelaide agreed before she leveled a stern look on Gwendolyn. “But don’t for a second get that matchmaker mind of yours traveling in the direction I know it longs to travel. Gideon, again, has made it known he’s not in the market for a wife, and I’m hardly a lady who would be well suited for a gentleman of the world, something Gideon most certainly is.”
She switched her attention to Walter. “With that now firmly out of the way, I’m afraid I’ll have to renege on our scheduled dance. I didn’t think to bring a spare pair of shoes with me.”
Gwendolyn stood on tiptoes and perused the ballroom for a moment. “You should ask Miss Darcy Mortman to join you for the waltz. I haven’t learned much about her, but she seems lovely, and rumor has it she’s guaranteed to take the New York Season by storm. She’s standing next to Mrs. Parker, who given the smile on her face is considering sponsoring her.”
“Then Walter shouldn’t interrupt them,” Phyllis said, before settling a smile on him. “You should dance with Gwendolyn instead.”
He didn’t hesitate to return the smile. “An excellent idea, Mrs. Duveen.”
Gwendolyn’s nose wrinkled. “It’ll hardly be productive for you to dance with me. I’m your matchmaker. Miss Mortman might turn out to be the lady you find more than pleasant this Season.”
“That’s some wishful thinking on your part,” Walter said. “Besides, I’d much rather enjoy the next dance by not having to worry about engaging in idle chitchat with a lady I don’t know.”
“And you, Gwendolyn,” Phyllis began before Gwendolyn could voice the protest her expression clearly suggested she wanted to voice, “deserve a respite from managing the events of this ball. Consider it a victory lap for helping Ethel host one of the most original events Newport has seen this Season. And that’s saying something, considering Mamie Fish hosted a ball for dogs.”
To Walter’s surprise, after shooting Phyllis a look that held a trace of resignation in it—as if she were quite used to dealing with older ladies determined to have their way and knew which battles to pick and which to abandon—Gwendolyn accepted his arm. A moment later, they were standing in the middle of the ballroom floor, earning more than a few raised eyebrows, and a smile from his mother, which he didn’t know how to interpret. Before he could consider that further though, the first note of a waltz rang out, and he and Gwendolyn were off.
He should have known she’d be more than proficient with the steps.
“Had a few dance instructors along the way?” he asked, moving across the floor with her in perfect synchrony.
“Since you were privy to Grandmother Brinley’s and my conversation, and I also know Catriona has probably taken the liberty of divulging far too much about me, you’re clearly well aware of my background and my circumstances, which are not those of a woman who has to earn a living. So I’m sure you’re not actually taken aback to learn I know how to dance,” Gwendolyn returned, effortlessly following his lead. “My mother was diligent in making sure her children were provided lessons in decorum, dance instruction, riding lessons, and the list goes on and on. I’ve always believed her diligence was because she held out hope Father’s parents would someday come to their senses and, if they did, would never be able to find their grandchildren lacking in matters of proper decorum.”
Gwendolyn followed his turn and smiled. “But enough about me. Did you see the wonderful job Samuel did pulling that rabbit out of the hat when the magician asked him to assist with his act? I was so proud of him. He may very well have a future as a magician.”
“A lofty goal indeed,” Walter said with a grin, spending the remainder of the waltz discussing the children, enjoying the opportunity to share the things he was learning about them and their many quirks with someone who genuinely cared about them.
Oscar, he’d recently discovered, was far too somber at times and had a way of speaking that made one forget he was only nine years old. He’d yet to explain how he’d come to fail his classes, but one morning at breakfast he’d told Walter he would need to hire on a tutor in the fall, because he wouldn’t be going back to his boarding school.
Before Walter had been able to argue with that, Oscar had gotten up from the breakfast table and quit the room, and that’s the last time the subject had been broached.
In all honesty, there was something to be said for his son’s stubbornness and commitment to his decisions, even if Walter didn’t understand why Oscar was so committed to not returning to a school he’d never given any indication he loathed—until he’d failed all of his classes and had gotten up to mischief that was completely out of character for him.
As for the twins, he’d discovered they were complete opposites. Samuel had always been quiet, but what Walter hadn’t realized was that his youngest son was thoughtful and kind, possessing a gentle spirit and a love for animals. He also adored his sister, even though Priscilla made a habit of trying to provoke him. But even with Priscilla having the ability to be a pint-sized tyrant, she was a little girl who wanted to seize the day, enjoying different experiences. She would clearly leave a mark on the world in the future, although doing so would probably entail situations that would keep Walter up at night.
It was humbling, coming to terms with the notion he didn’t know his own children, as well as knowing he would likely have never drawn closer to them if Gwendolyn hadn’t entered his life, and for that, he couldn’t thank her enough. Or . . .
“The music’s ending,” Gwendolyn said, snapping Walter out of his thoughts.
“Forgive me. I fear I was preoccupied,” he admitted, as he brought them to a stop in the middle of the floor.
“Children can do that to a parent,” she said, her lips curving. “But now, I believe Catriona is due to sing soon, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to make certain she’s ready. The last time I saw her, she and Frank Lambert were looking over sheet notes.” She released a sigh. “I’ve not had any luck finding anyone willing to dance with Frank this evening, which is why I think he’s dogging Catriona’s every step. She, at least, seems to enjoy his company and doesn’t condescend to him like society is currently doing.”
“He’s still determined to marry a Knickerbocker?”
“I believe so, even though I’ve told him numerous times he’s not going to find success with that plan. He’s stubborn though, which means he’s not yet receptive to the idea of looking outside of society for a wife.” She dipped into a curtsy. “Make certain to keep on track with your schedule because I’ll be expecting an update after I check on my cousin.” With that, Gwendolyn strolled away right as his mother joined him.
“She’s quite light on her feet,” Ethel said, smiling at Gwendolyn’s retreating back before she took hold of his arm and prodded him toward the orchestra. “I thought before Catriona sings, we should take a moment to thank the guests for coming.”