At Your Request (Apart From the Crowd): An Apart From the Crowd Novella

by Jen Turano

  After a great deal of grunting, mutters, and even a yelp or three coming from Wilhelmina, Miss Griswold tipped up her head and caught his gaze.

  “I do believe we’re almost there, Mr. Wanamaker,” Miss Griswold began. “All that’s left to do is for me to squeeze Miss Radcliff’s, ah . . . gown together—the part that covers her, ah, hips—as tightly as I can in an effort to make her smaller, and when I say ready, you’ll need to pull off the chair.”

  Sending her a nod, even as he tried to hold back a smile over the whole hip-squeezing business, Miss Griswold turned back to Wilhelmina and then said, “Ready,” even as Wilhelmina let out another yelp.

  Hoping for the best, he took hold of the chair and gave it a good yank, breathing a sigh of relief a second later when it popped free of Wilhelmina, leaving her still on the floor but without a chair attached to her.

  Accepting the hand he offered her, Wilhelmina got to her feet and then took to shaking out the folds of her skirt while he helped Miss Griswold up from the floor as well. Beaming a smile his way, and then turning that smile on Miss Griswold, Wilhelmina inclined her head.

  “Thank goodness the two of you were able to see me released. Truth be told, I was beginning to think I’d have to return home with a chair stuck to my behind.”

  “Which would have been a very interesting sight to see,” Miss Griswold said. “However, now that we’ve gotten your dastardly situation under control, I’m afraid I must take my leave of your company as well. I completely forgot that my stepsister, Lucy, is supposed to participate in the quadrille planned for this evening. Since young ladies do seem to be climbing down from their chairs—apparently having come to the conclusion that they won’t be getting mauled by a rampaging mouse anytime soon—I’m sure the quadrille is about to begin.” She released a bit of a sigh. “Heaven forbid I’m not standing by my stepmother’s side when Lucy glides across the ballroom floor.” Giving Wilhelmina’s arm a squeeze, Miss Griswold sent Edgar a small curtsy and then breezed away.

  “She’s an unusual lady, isn’t she?” he asked.

  Wilhelmina pulled her attention away from Miss Griswold’s retreating back and settled it on him. “I think she’s delightful, but speaking of unusual—it’s rather unusual to discover you in New York, and at a ball, no less. I don’t recall seeing your name on the invitation list.”

  “Mr. Asher Rutherford secured me a last-minute invitation directly from Mrs. Travers.”

  “Was there a specific reason you had Mr. Rutherford do that?”

  Edgar smiled. “Curiously enough, there was, and . . . that reason revolves around you and my need to speak with you about a matter of great urgency.”

  Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes. “A matter of great urgency?”

  “Indeed,” Edgar returned as he took a single step closer to her. “You see . . . I’ve decided that it’s time for me to consider the idea of marriage. But, before I proceed further with that decision, I feel it’s imperative that you and I settle matters between us once and for all.”

  Chapter

  Three

  “You’re getting married?” Wilhelmina somehow managed to get past a throat that had, oddly enough, taken to constricting.

  Edgar’s brows drew together. “That’s not what I said at all. I said I’d decided to get married, but that you and I needed to settle matters between us before I could pursue that decision.”

  “Have you asked a lady to marry you?” she pressed.

  “Why is it that I suddenly feel as if you and I are not sharing the same conversation?” Edgar took a firm grip of her arm and, without asking her permission, began escorting her across the floor at a remarkably fast clip.

  Dodging one dancer after another, all of whom were attempting to take their proper places on the ballroom floor, Wilhelmina found her steps faltering ever so slightly when she caught sight of the quadrille leader for that evening, Mr. Dyer. He, unfortunately, was sending a glare her way—brought on no doubt by the fact she and Edgar were disrupting his well-structured dance.

  “Where are you trying to take me?” she asked as they passed a group of young ladies, none of whom were making the slightest attempt to hide the fact they were gawking Edgar’s way.

  “We need to find somewhere private to speak.”

  “If you’ve forgotten, we’re in the midst of a ball. Privacy is next to impossible to find, unless you want to chance being discovered in what society will assume is a compromising situation. Which,” she hurried to say, “is not something I’m willing to do.”

  Edgar stopped in his tracks. “I would never place you in a compromising situation.”

  Remorse was swift. Edgar had always been, first and foremost, a gentleman, and implying differently had done him a grave disservice. Inclining her head, Wilhelmina touched his arm. “Do forgive me, Edgar. I didn’t mean to question your integrity. Of course you would never place me in a compromising situation.”

  “Thank you,” he said shortly as he prodded her into motion again. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of a pair of French doors.

  “I think these might lead outside to the back terrace,” she said.

  “Which will be the perfect spot for us to have a chat.”

  Opening her mouth to point out the pesky fact that it was January, in New York of all places, she suddenly found herself unable to speak a single word, because Edgar had gone ahead and opened one of the doors right before he practically pushed her outside and into what could only be described as a blizzard.

  “What a lovely night to enjoy a chat outside,” she yelled over a howling wind that was tossing snow every which way. “Although I should probably point out that it’s not exactly weather a lady wearing a ball gown is usually subjected to, nor . . .”

  Before she could finish her complaint, Edgar had shrugged out of his black tailcoat, stuffed her unceremoniously into it, then took hold of her hand and began hauling her forward again.

  “Where are we going?” she yelled.

  “I overheard a lady remarking about Mrs. Travers having a conservatory back here. It’ll be the perfect place for us to have our chat,” he called back.

  Wilhelmina wrinkled her nose. “Far be it from me to point out the obvious, but since we only recently broached the subject of compromising situations, I feel I really should—”

  The rest of her words were cut off when the snow suddenly began whipping around them, stealing the very breath from her. Lowering her head, Wilhelmina didn’t bother to protest further, and before she knew it, they’d reached the conservatory in question. Opening the door for her, Edgar ushered her inside and pulled the door firmly shut behind him.

  A blast of warm, moist air settled over her.

  “See?” he began, brushing snow out of his hair before he brushed it off the sleeves of his starched white shirt and matching silk waistcoat. “I told you it would be the perfect spot, and it’s definitely quiet.”

  “And secluded,” she pointed out, shrugging out of his tailcoat and handing it back to him.

  Taking the coat, Edgar smiled. “A most excellent point, although given that there is a blizzard raging about outside, I doubt anyone from the warm and toasty confines of the ballroom will feel compelled to follow us. Besides, I doubt anyone even noticed us leaving.”

  “Didn’t you notice that entire gaggle of young ladies perusing you?”

  A flash of amusement flickered through Edgar’s eyes. “Why, Willie, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you sounded a touch jealous just now.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, and stop calling me Willie.”

  Instead of looking the least bit contrite, Edgar grinned and took hold of her arm. He steered her along a stone pathway that wound through the many plants surrounding them.

  “I am quite capable of walking on my own,” she said, ducking underneath the branch of a lush fern that seemed to be thriving in the environment the conservatory provided.

  “I don’t recall suggesting you weren’t, but as I am
a gentleman, and the floor of this conservatory does seem to be a little slick, I’d be remiss in my role as that gentleman if I didn’t make certain any hazard to your well-being was avoided.”

  Opening her mouth to apologize once again, she immediately swallowed the apology when she noticed that his lips had taken to twitching at the corners. Tugging her arm free of his, she moved over to a stone bench flanked by some exotic-looking red flowers and took a seat.

  She was not amused when he took a seat right beside her, crowding her in the process.

  “When did you get so large?” she asked, scooting as casually as she could away from him, not allowing herself to dwell on why his nearness was bothering her.

  “When I began working in a steel mill.”

  Wilhelmina blinked. “You worked in a steel mill?”

  Nodding, Edgar smiled. “Surprising, I know, but I’d studied up on the improvements being made in the steel industry while I was attending the university. When I left New York directly after your debut, I decided I needed a distraction. Since steel was becoming in high demand, what with all the bridges and buildings being built in the city, it was the perfect time for me to get some real-life experience within the steel industry.”

  The casual manner in which Edgar mentioned his need for a distraction didn’t fool Wilhelmina in the least. She’d hurt him by rejecting his offer of marriage, and now seemed to be the perfect time to make amends for the hurt she’d dealt him.

  Reaching out, she oh-so-casually poked his upper arm, impressed when she felt the hardness underneath his shirt. “While it’s obvious you benefited quite notably from your stint in the steel mills, I do want you to know that I’m truly sorry for the pain I put you through when I refused to marry you.” She sighed. “It was not well done of me to have treated you in such a cavalier manner, and I have wanted to apologize to you for years.”

  She caught his gaze. “I did ask your mother about you whenever our paths crossed, but . . . she refused to divulge your whereabouts, and truth be told, I believe she has yet to forgive me for rejecting your proposal.”

  “Of course she hasn’t forgiven you, Wilhelmina. In her mind, you hurt the feelings of her adorable—and need I remind you, charming—son. Which is why she still takes to muttering less-than-pleasant mutters about you under her breath whenever I try to bring you into the conversation.”

  Edgar gave a sad shake of his head. “She’s especially put out with you over the idea that you proclaimed—in front of witnesses, no less—that the very last thing you’d ever want in life was to be known as Wilhelmina Wanamaker for the rest of your days.”

  Wilhelmina winced. “I completely forgot about that. Do know that I will apologize to your mother about that nasty business, if she ever condescends to speak to me again, that is.”

  “As you should, since Mother always proclaimed that Wilhelmina Wanamaker had a very nice ring to it, a proclamation she’s certain you remembered, which has allowed her to believe you were insulting not only me the night of your debut, but her as well.”

  “Oh . . . dear.”

  “Oh dear, indeed,” Edgar agreed quite cheerfully.

  Wilhelmina blew out a breath. “I do hope you know that I didn’t deliberately set out to hurt your feelings that particular night, or hurt the feelings of your mother by my careless words. I was simply taken by surprise when you dropped to one knee and proposed to me, in the middle of the ballroom. And because of that, I fear my response was not what anyone could consider kind.”

  Edgar reached out and took her hand in his. “And that right there, my dear Wilhelmina, is one of the reasons I needed to speak with you. You seem to be under the misimpression that you wronged me the night of your debut, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I was the one in the wrong. For that, I am truly sorry, and I hope you’ll find it within your heart to accept that apology.”

  “You returned to the city to apologize to me?” she asked. “I thought you mentioned something about marriage.”

  “I can’t very well move forward with my life while I still have so many issues left unresolved with you.”

  “So you are intending on getting married?”

  Edgar frowned. “I’m twenty-eight years old. I certainly can’t make the claim that the thought of marriage hasn’t flashed to mind more and more often as time goes ticking on by at a remarkable faster and faster clip.”

  Wilhelmina’s brows drew together. “And you have a specific lady in mind to do this settling down with?”

  With his brows drawing together as well, Edgar took to considering her for a long moment, something interesting taking up residence in his eyes. “I would imagine that I do have a lady in mind, although . . . I’m not certain she returns my interest.” The look in his eyes intensified. “Tell me this, Wilhelmina. . . . Why do you sound so disgruntled by the idea of me settling down?”

  Swallowing the denial that had been on the very tip of her tongue, Wilhelmina considered the question, realizing a mere second later that she was disgruntled. The reasoning behind that disgruntlement, curiously enough, seemed to revolve around the idea that the very thought of him marrying another woman set her teeth on edge.

  Drawing in a sharp breath over that revelation, she then completely forgot all about releasing the breath when truth reared up and smacked her firmly over the head.

  Edgar Wanamaker—no matter that she’d rejected him out of hand and hadn’t set eyes on him for years—was a gentleman she could easily picture herself growing old with, sharing children with, and . . . loving . . . forever.

  That she hadn’t even realized any of that until this very moment, with him sitting right beside her no less, had her feeling distinctly light-headed, although that might have been because she’d been holding her breath and . . .

  “On my word, Willie, you’ve taken to looking rather queasy—what with your face turning that somewhat disturbing shade of green. Are you all right?”

  Having no idea how to respond to that since she was certainly not all right—especially since the world as she knew it had suddenly taken a turn for the concerning—Wilhelmina pulled her hand from Edgar’s and rose to her feet. “I’m afraid the heat in this conservatory has begun taking a toll on me, which means we really should return to the ball.”

  Rising to his feet as well, Edgar took hold of her arm, pulled her directly over to a door that led to the back of the conservatory, pushed it open, and pulled her outside with him.

  A blast of freezing air settled over her, followed by snow. Blinking flakes out of her lashes and feeling anything but overly warm, she lifted her head and caught his eye. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said the heat had gotten to me.”

  Edgar smiled. “But I imagine it did the trick, though, didn’t it? You’re looking far less queasy now, and . . . we’ll be able to finish our conversation without being surrounded by curious guests.”

  Not caring to hear more about his marriage plans, Wilhelmina lifted her chin. “I’m not certain we have much more to discuss.”

  Taking hold of her hand, Edgar pulled her back inside the conservatory and hustled her straight back to their bench. Lowering himself down beside her, he pulled her hand back into his.

  “Now then, where were we?” he asked pleasantly.

  “How is it possible that I’d forgotten how stubborn you can be?” she asked.

  “I’m sure I have no idea, since I’ve been told that stubbornness is part of my charm.”

  “I’m not certain I’d call it charming, but . . .” She felt her lips begin to curve. “I have, curiously enough, missed your incredibly stubborn self over the last few years.”

  “And I’ve missed your incredibly delightful habit of contradicting me at every turn.”

  “I’m sure I don’t contradict you at every turn,” she said as he quirked a brow her way.

  “I’m sure you do, but before we find ourselves at sixes and sevens with each other, tell me what you’ve been doing over the years I’
ve been gone.”

  Having no wish to speak about the mundane path her life had traveled of late, she shook her head. “I’d much rather hear about you, specifically about that stint in a steel mill you mentioned.”

  “I still work in the steel industry,” Edgar began. “Although I work in my own mills instead of working for someone else these days.”

  “Which does explain why someone mentioned you’ve returned to town with a respectable fortune at your disposal.”

  “I don’t know if I’d consider my fortune as being at the respectable level as of yet, but I do have high hopes for the future if my Pittsburgh mills keep performing as well as they have been of late.”

  Wilhelmina wrinkled her nose. “You live in Pittsburgh?”

  “Why do I get the distinct feeling that I’ve just said something that’s gotten me into trouble?”

  “Because Pittsburgh isn’t that far away from New York City, and yet, you’ve stayed remarkably absent from New York these past seven years.”

  Edgar’s brows drew together. “Who said I haven’t visited New York over the past seven years?”

  For a second, she found herself speechless, but only for a second. “Are you saying that you’ve come home often but have never, as in ever, stopped in to see me?”

  “Surely, given that you were once very familiar with my mother, you couldn’t have thought that she’d be willing to accept the idea that I’d not visit her for occasions such as her birthday and other holidays, could you?”

  “You’ve been back numerous times?”

  Edgar had the audacity to laugh. “I must admit that your indignation is doing wonders for that wounded pride I’ve been living with for years.”

  “I highly doubt your pride was wounded for years,” she said with her best attempt at a sniff, an attempt she obviously didn’t pull off well since he laughed again.

  Giving her hand a bit of a pat, Edgar leaned closer. “My pride was wounded long enough, thank you very much, especially since I’d never considered the idea that you’d turn down my marriage proposal.”