“I’m convinced he simply found the time we spent together pleasant as well, when I wasn’t irritating him. But I won’t marry a man who finds my company enjoyable over exhilarating, nor will I marry a man simply because I adore his children.”
Finella gave Gwendolyn’s hand another squeeze. “Perfectly understandable, but tell me this—do you love him?”
“I’d rather not talk about that.”
It was beyond annoying when her mother smiled.
“A revealing remark that suggests you might very well love him, and you’re irritated about that because you’re not quite certain how you could fall in love with a man who seems to lack emotions. I would bet Walter has more emotions than you realize and is merely deficient with displaying them in public.”
“Walter got emotional after he was reunited with the children.”
“Well, there you go. He’s not emotionless after all.”
“It almost made me cry.”
Finella arched a brow. “You never cry.”
“Indeed, and I won’t be crying over him in the future, if that’s your next question. The reality is he doesn’t love me. He’s more interested in providing his children with a mother, something he knows I’d do magnificently. But even though I would be an excellent mother, Walter’s not thinking through the repercussions he’ll suffer if he marries a woman like me.
“I saw his face when society turned on me after Priscilla announced the children wanted me as their mother. Even though Walter assured me it wasn’t horror at all, merely shock at the reaction of the crowd, as well as concern for the children, who were expecting a different outcome, I have no doubt he would find himself shocked and disappointed time and again, because even with his fortune, the social set will never accept me into their exclusive midst.
“Quite frankly, I have no desire to be accepted into their midst after what I witnessed in Newport. Pettiness prevails amongst the socially elite, and I’ve never been one to sit back and accept that type of attitude from anyone. It would be one confrontation after another, something Walter would certainly grow weary of.”
“Pettiness isn’t exclusive to society, Gwendolyn, as you very well know. Besides, I’m sure you’d learn to navigate around it somewhat graciously if you found yourself attending society events.”
“But society turned its collective back on me at the Townsend ball. As you know from experience, it’s rare for anyone not born into inner circles to ever get accepted.”
“But unlike my situation, dear,” Finella argued, “Walter’s mother seems to think you may be exactly right for him, as does his mother-in-law. Their acceptance would make all the difference in the world.”
“Perhaps, but I want nothing to do with society.”
“I’m not saying you’d need to turn into a Vanderbilt or an Astor, dear. But it wouldn’t hurt to mingle every so often with people Walter’s known since birth.”
“I don’t even know why we’re talking about this. Walter has clearly reconsidered his situation and realized he may have been mistaken when he proclaimed I’d make a wonderful mother for his children. He hasn’t bothered to so much as pen me a letter inquiring about my welfare in the week I’ve been here. That means there’s no need to dwell on any of this because it’s a moot point.”
“You told me you left on the first ferry, which departed Newport at eight in the morning, mere hours after the children had been rescued. Walter could very well have come to see you at Catriona’s cottage, but you were probably long gone.”
“It’s more likely he came to his senses and realized the last thing he wants in life is me.”
Finella opened her mouth, clearly to argue with that, but then closed it when the dogs began barking. She rose from the hay bale and made her way to the barn door. “Are you expecting anyone today?”
“Who would I be expecting? Catriona is here, the rest of the family is still in the Berkshires—which again, you’re more than welcome to return to because I wasn’t expecting you to rush back here after I sent you a telegram telling you I was coming home.”
“I don’t know why you’d be surprised I’d return from the Berkshires early. You’re my daughter and you’d just been terminated from your position. Of course I was going to rush home because, well, you’ve never been the type to suffer failure graciously.”
“I didn’t actually fail as a matchmaker, merely got fired after causing a huge, completely unintentional, ruckus. In all honesty, now that I’ve had time to think about my unexpected position, I realize I enjoyed it to a certain extent.”
“If you really enjoyed matchmaking, you should consider continuing with it. I imagine there are all sorts of matches just waiting for you to arrange during the upcoming winter Season. And taking up residency in New York would put you in Walter’s vicinity.”
“I swear you’re growing more tenacious with age, but I’m not moving to New York to start up a matchmaking business. Even though I may have enjoyed it ever so slightly, I’m not certain the charm of making matches would last long—not when I’d have to navigate through the vindictiveness between ladies. Besides, unless I’d go back to Mrs. Parker, who did let it be known she might have been hasty with terminating my position, society won’t allow me through the doors of their exclusive events.”
“They would if you married Walter.”
Gwendolyn released a snort. “There’s that perseverance again. For the last time, I won’t be marrying Walter. I left him firmly behind me in Newport, and he’s probably even now at the Newport Casino, with Mrs. Parker at his side, discussing potential matches.”
“I don’t think that’s where he is,” Finella said, peering through the barn door.
“Why not?”
“Because a man just got out of a carriage parked by the front porch, and . . . Huh, there’s one, two . . . three children following him, and . . . two ladies. They look like society to me.”
“What?” Gwendolyn dashed to join her mother, her mouth dropping open when she spotted Oscar, Priscilla, and Samuel already playing with the sheepdogs that roamed free on the farm, two of which seemed to be trying to lick Samuel to death. “What in the world are they doing here?”
“Only one way to find out,” Finella said, making a beeline through the barn door and heading for the house.
“What are you doing?” Gwendolyn asked, breaking into a run to catch up with her.
“I’m going to greet our guests and introduce myself.”
Before Gwendolyn could respond to that, Priscilla’s head shot up, she caught sight of Gwendolyn, and then she was racing across the lawn, the ribbons in her hair flying madly about.
“Miss Brinley, Miss Brinley,” Priscilla yelled, throwing herself into Gwendolyn’s arms as soon as she reached her. “I’ve missed you. It’s been forever.”
Allowing herself the luxury of holding the little girl close for a long moment while breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, Gwendolyn kissed the top of Priscilla’s head before she set her on the ground. “I’ve missed you as well, darling. But it hasn’t been forever, merely a week.”