by Jen Turano
It took a concerted effort to avoid releasing the snort he longed to release. “I’ve known Asher Rutherford since my school days, Mother, and believe me, he is no angel—no matter that he seems especially proficient at convincing the mothers of his closest friends he is.”
Nora pursed her lips. “Any gentleman who has been able to create such an inviting atmosphere for ladies to shop in has to be possessed of a most considerate nature, darling. Why, he has actually decorated the designer room in shades of pale pink, giving clear testimony to what I can only describe as his sensitive side.”
Seeing little point in arguing with his mother, or disappointing her by explaining that Asher had only chosen the pink because he’d discovered that particular color seemed to increase spending in his store, Edgar crossed one ankle over the other and sent his mother a smile. “I’ll be sure to tell Asher that you’re impressed with how sensitive he is. But really, Mother, I must admit I take issue with the direction of this conversation. I have rarely caused you any trouble, something your earlier statement seems to suggest you’ve forgotten.”
“You don’t think the current state of affairs with Wilhelmina constitutes a troubling situation?”
“Since I haven’t seen Wilhelmina since we parted ways at the ball last night, I can’t say with any certainty just yet if she and I are involved in anything that could be considered troubling.”
Nora leaned toward Edgar. “She did actually agree to marry you this time, though, didn’t she? I’m afraid that is something you didn’t explain to satisfaction last night.”
“When you say agree, do you mean verbally agree?” Edgar asked slowly.
Nora took a hefty gulp of her tea, set down the cup, and exchanged a rather meaningful look with Mr. Hodges. “Didn’t I tell you, Mr. Hodges, that I had a feeling Edgar hadn’t settled matters properly with Wilhelmina?”
“You did, Mrs. Wanamaker, and once again, it appears you were quite right.”
Edgar pretended he hadn’t heard that bit of nonsense. “The only reason Wilhelmina and I didn’t completely settle matters between us was because we were forced to contend with a blizzard.”
“What does that have to do with you being unable to settle matters properly with Wilhelmina?” Nora demanded.
“I’m getting to that,” Edgar said even as he caught his mother and Mr. Hodges exchange yet another significant glance.
“You’re not getting to it very quickly,” his mother muttered.
“It’s not a very complicated story, Mother,” Edgar returned. “Right after I announced to Mrs. Travers that Wilhelmina and I were getting married, the walls of the conservatory we were in began shaking quite fiercely, lending credence to the idea that the blizzard was increasing in intensity. Because of that, I, along with Wilhelmina, Mrs. Travers, Miss Permilia Griswold, and a lady I believe was named Miss Lucy Webster, deemed it prudent to make our way back to the ball before the courtyard became impassable.”
“Why didn’t you settle matters once you returned to the ball?” Nora pressed.
“Because all the guests decided directly after we returned that it would be in their best interests to leave while they still could. However, since most of the carriages had already become buried in snow, I, along with a good many other gentlemen, were pressed into service to help get those carriages unburied.”
He held up his hand when Nora opened her mouth again. “And before you inquire as to why I didn’t settle matters with Wilhelmina after I finished my task, allow me to tell you that she’d accepted a ride home with Miss Griswold, a practical young lady who’d had the foresight to arrive at the ball in a sleigh.”
Nora leaned forward. “Wilhelmina departing in such a cloak-and-dagger fashion seems to me to be a most ominous sign.”
“There was nothing cloak and dagger about it, Mother. In fact, I was the one who encouraged her to accept Miss Griswold’s offer, knowing there was little chance my carriage would be up for the task of getting Wilhelmina all the way to Gramercy Park—the area of the city where she and her family are now living.”
He took a sip of his tea and regarded his mother over the rim of the cup. “I considered making my way to Wilhelmina’s home after I finished seeing everyone safely off in their carriages, but by the time I got into my own carriage, the roads were almost impassable.”
Nora narrowed her eyes on him. “While I must admit that does make a great deal of sense, I would have thought you’d have gone out bright and early this morning to get matters firmed up between the two of you once and for all.”
“I had to meet with Asher this morning.”
“Whatever for?”
“He has a useful contact in the shipping industry, a gentleman we then sought out down on 28th Street, although that seeking took far longer than I expected, given the abysmal state of the streets today.”
Nora arched a brow. “Don’t you believe your time would have been better spent seeking out an audience with Wilhelmina instead of visiting some shipping gentleman on 28th Street?”
“That visit is directly tied to my current situation with Wilhelmina, Mother. Although, I can’t say much more on the subject just yet, since I don’t know what the outcome will be from meeting with Mr. Harrison Sinclair, Asher’s friend in the shipping industry.”
With eyes that now held a distinct trace of annoyance, Nora let out a huff. “That is a less-than-sufficient explanation, as I’m sure you’re well aware. But I’m afraid you don’t have the luxury of time to finalize affairs with Wilhelmina, especially given the rumors that are already swirling around the city about the two of you. Such rumors will not aid Wilhelmina’s reputation if they’re not put to rest quickly.”
“What rumors?” Edgar asked slowly.
“Ones that center on the idea that you and Wilhelmina were discovered alone together in Mrs. Travers’ conservatory.” Nora caught Edgar’s eye. “The only reason the poor girl’s reputation isn’t in complete tatters is because rumors are also flying about that the two of you are the most romantic couple of the season—childhood sweethearts who were kept apart in your youth but who have finally been reunited.”
Edgar set aside his teacup. “How, pray tell, is it even possible that rumors are swirling around the city? As I mentioned before, everyone left the ball before Mrs. Travers would have had an opportunity to do more than bid everyone a good evening. Add in the notion that the conditions outside on the streets today are less than ideal, and I would have thought that any and all rumors would have been put on hold for the foreseeable future.”
Nora’s forehead took to furrowing. “Surely you haven’t been away from society so long that you’ve forgotten that there is little, even a blizzard, that can stop a good story from making the rounds.” She reached over the side of her chair and snatched up a newspaper, which she immediately took to snapping open.
“Surely you’re not about to tell me that Wilhelmina and I made the newspapers, are you?” Edgar asked rather weakly as Nora began thumbing through the pages.
Nora nodded. “I’m afraid you did, dear—and not a mere mention, mind you, but almost an entire column dedicated to you and Wilhelmina, a column that was penned by the illustrious and oh-so-mysterious Miss Quill.”
“Miss . . . Quill?”
“She’s the darling of the society columns these days, writing about the current fashions that are being worn to all the balls and operas. She’s even been known to include descriptions of the interiors of the houses owned by society members, a circumstance that has had society in an uproar ever since her first column appeared two years ago.”
Nora peered at him over the top of the newspaper. “Our family has endeavored to keep our business out of the public eye, but you and Wilhelmina somehow attracted Miss Quill’s notice.”
“How is that possible? As I said, few people even knew that Wilhelmina and I had stepped away from the crowds in order to have a private conversation.”
“Far be it from me to point out the foolishness of t
he two of you choosing a secluded conservatory to have that conversation in, dear, but . . . you did choose it, you were discovered, and Miss Quill—bless her far too observant heart—found out about it.”
Edgar sat forward. “You mentioned something about Wilhelmina and me being touted as the romance story of the season, but how in the world did that come about? Believe me, there was nothing romantic at all regarding the manner in which I announced to Mrs. Travers that there was soon to be a wedding.”
“I would hope there was something romantic about your announcement.”
“I’m afraid not.”
Edgar wasn’t certain, but it seemed as if his mother actually took to exchanging a rolling of the eyes with Mr. Hodges this time.
“I can only thank the good Lord above,” she began after she turned back to him and Mr. Hodges assumed his usual stoic demeanor, “that your father and brother are away on business at the moment, because, well, I’m sure they’d have quite a bit to say regarding your current circumstance.”
She released the tiniest of sighs. “Honestly, Edgar, one would have thought, considering you failed so spectacularly to win Wilhelmina’s hand the first time you proposed to her, that you would have tried a little more diligently to pull off a romantic moment the second time around.”
“And one would have thought, considering how put out you’ve been at Wilhelmina over her rejecting my proposal all those years ago, that you would be trying to figure out a way to get me out of marrying her rather than marrying her.”
“I’ve always adored Wilhelmina,” Nora said with a rattle of the paper she was still holding. “And while I’m sure I did lend the impression of being put out with her, that was mostly for your benefit, dear.”
Edgar’s mouth dropped open. “Do not tell me that you’ve been holding out hope all these years for something like this to happen.”
“I must admit that I have, and . . . now it would seem as if that hope was not misplaced if a wedding does indeed occur between the two of you in the foreseeable future.”
Reaching for his tea again, Edgar drained the cup and set it aside. “I’m hesitantly optimistic that a wedding may soon take place, especially since I have come to realize that I still love Wilhelmina. I find her to be a most enchanting creature, and I would be a lucky gentleman indeed if she would truly agree to become my wife.”
Nora frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand why you’re only hesitantly optimistic about marrying Wilhelmina. You’ve mentioned a time or two now that you told Mrs. Travers you were to be married, and while I know you’ve been away from society for quite some time, surely you haven’t forgotten that, as a gentleman, you have no choice but to go through with the wedding. And, as a lady, Wilhelmina can’t refute your declaration, not if she wants to keep her reputation, and . . . she can forget about continuing on as a social secretary if she doesn’t go through with the marriage because she’ll be looked at forevermore as a woman of loose moral values.”
She rattled the paper again. “Add in the article Miss Quill published, and I can say with all certainty that there will be a wedding to plan, whether Wilhelmina has doubts or not.”
Turning his attention to the newspaper in his mother’s hand, Edgar felt a trace of trepidation begin to run through him. Wilhelmina, he well remembered, was not a lady who ever did the expected. If she came to the conclusion they were being forced to marry because of Mrs. Travers and now an article penned by some mysterious Miss Quill person, there was absolutely no telling how she might react.
Reaching out, he nodded to the paper his mother was holding. “Perhaps I should take a gander at that article.”
“Too right you should, dear, especially since I would have to imagine Wilhelmina has already seen Miss Quill’s piece.” Nora handed the paper to Edgar. “It’s the article in the second column.”
Scanning the page, Edgar’s attention was captured by a headline he wasn’t used to seeing in a reputable paper.
The Quality Corner
A Column by Miss Quill
The Most Charming Romance of the Season
“What a curious way to phrase a headline,” he said.
“Miss Quill is nothing if not curious,” Nora returned. “But, you’d best keep reading, dear. Prepare yourself for a bit of a . . . shock.”
Finding that less than encouraging, Edgar settled his attention to the words printed on the page.
Dear Reader,
Given the dreadful weather you’ve woken up to today, I felt it necessary to provide you with a story that is certain to warm you all the way to your toes. Last night, in the midst of a most delightful ball, held by Mrs. T., a swoon-worthy love story took place, one that deserves an entire book written about it, but will need to settle, at least for the here and now, for my humble column.
This love story, gentle reader, started when Mr. W. and Miss R. were but mere children. I’ve been told by a most credible source that they shared a special bond throughout their childhood, but when they reached an age where they might have married, circumstances beyond their control kept them apart.
Edgar raised his head. “What in the world is this Miss Quill going on about? ‘Circumstances beyond their control’? Wilhelmina rejected me out of hand, which certainly suggests she, at least, had a rather large measure of control over the event.”
“I don’t believe it’s in your best interest to stop and ponder each paragraph, dear. Perhaps you’ll get the full meaning of the article once you’ve gotten through the entire piece.”
Knowing full well he was hardly likely to get the full meaning of a piece that already made little sense, but knowing there was nothing to do but continue onward, he dropped his head, found his place, and took to reading again.
These childhood sweethearts were finally reunited last evening after being parted from each other for years. I am thrilled to report that their reunion was a most happy event, with our delightful hero and heroine proclaiming their very great affection for each other. The evening then culminated with a marriage proposal, one that I’ve been told was delivered by Mr. W. with a most romantic turn of phrase.
Miss R., I’m happy to report, was so overjoyed that tears cascaded down her beautiful face. And while society will surely miss her charming presence at their events, Pittsburgh, where I’ve been told Mr. W. now resides, has gained a most lovely addition to their social circles. More details to follow as they become known, but do feel free to extend this happy, happy couple your warmest wishes if you happen upon them somewhere in the city.
Lifting his head, Edgar’s brows drew together. “Didn’t you say this Miss Quill normally restricts her writing to fashion and decorating habits of the society set?”
“She’s apparently decided to branch out,” Nora said with a breezy wave of her hand. “But to give Miss Quill her due, her article may have very well saved Wilhelmina’s reputation, as well as your own.”
“And you’re fairly confident that Wilhelmina would have already seen this piece?” Edgar asked as a sense of foreboding began replacing the trepidation he’d recently been feeling.
“I imagine she has, or if she hasn’t read the article, I would think some helpful soul has paid a call on her to bring her up to date on the rumors swirling around the city about the two of you.” Nora nodded to Mr. Hodges. “Poor Mr. Hodges had to stay directly inside the door today throughout calling hours, given that so many ladies wanted to pay a call on us in an attempt to find out all the pertinent details regarding your situation.”
“Ladies were out and about during calling hours today?”
Mr. Hodges moved to a small rectangular table that stood beside the front door, picking up a silver platter. That platter was completely filled with calling cards. The sheer volume of cards left Edgar shaking his head even as his mother smiled and shook her head back at him.
“A little snow is not enough to deter determined ladies from searching out the truth regarding the most charming romance of the season, Edgar. I will say tha
t none of them were so determined to pursue the matter, though, that they actually got out of their sleighs to personally deliver their calling cards. They had their drivers do that, knowing that I’ll be required to acknowledge their call with either a call of my own or an invitation to dine with me for lunch sometime in the next week or so.”
She smiled. “Hopefully I’ll have good news to share with them by then or I might actually consider taking a trip out of the city for a few weeks.”
Edgar returned her smile. “I don’t think you’ll be forced to leave the city, Mother, although I have to say it’s becoming quite clear that society is growing more peculiar by the minute. Why, I can’t imagine what these ladies were thinking, braving the elements in order to learn more about the so-called romance of the season, an event that just happens to be a complete fabrication on the part of what is clearly a delusional columnist. In all honesty, there was absolutely nothing of a romantic nature to be witnessed last night, unless you count the part where I kissed Wilhelmina, but no one was even around to witness that event.”
“You never mentioned a thing about kissing Wilhelmina.”
“And as a gentleman, I shouldn’t have mentioned it now. So in order to maintain my position as a gentleman, while avoiding questions I know you’re about to pose, I’ll bid you good afternoon for now. Hopefully, I’ll have encouraging news to share with you after I’ve spoken with Wilhelmina.”
Mr. Hodges, who’d taken up his usual position by the door, took that moment to clear his throat. “If I may make a suggestion, sir? I would look in Central Park for Miss Radcliff first before traveling on to Gramercy Park. Quite a few of the drivers saw fit to tell me there are plans for society to gather in the park this afternoon, plans that include ice-skating, if I’m not mistaken.”
Edgar frowned as he got to his feet. “Won’t the ice at the lake in Central Park be buried under too much snow for skating?”