by Jen Turano
“Perfectly understandable,” Millie said.
“May I offer the perfect solution to the pants-versus-frocks dilemma?”
Turning, Millie discovered Mr. Macon standing on the terrace, his arms filled with quite a bit of brown material.
“I’m sure you’ll be pleased to learn, Miss Longfellow, that I’ve replaced these lovely drapes that were hanging in your room with some cheery yellow ones. And, since I now have in my hands yards and yards of material, and we certainly don’t want it to go to waste, may I suggest that someone—as in you, Miss Longfellow—teach Miss Elizabeth how to make . . . pants?”
Eyeing the material in Mr. Macon’s hands, Millie grinned. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Mr. Macon, and it will be the perfect solution to not only the children’s dilemma regarding clothing, but mine as well.”
10
As Mr. Ward McAllister droned on and on about the many different ways one could fold a linen napkin, Everett stretched his legs out on the checkered blanket Caroline had brought for them to eat their picnic lunch on. Try as he might to focus, he found his thoughts drifting away from the project at hand.
Regrettably, the main thought his mind wanted to dwell on was that something was dreadfully wrong with him.
He normally enjoyed spending the summer in the company of his good friends, but this year, something was different. Something had changed.
Friends he’d known for years were no longer very entertaining, and Caroline . . . Well, she was becoming more difficult by the day.
That she’d told everyone he’d been indisposed the night before annoyed him no small amount. He’d spent half his time at the picnic fending off questions regarding his indisposed condition, even though he was fairly certain everyone knew he hadn’t attended the ball the night before because he and Caroline had not been in accord. His friends, people he’d always believed were the very best company, had now taken to badgering him endlessly about the matter.
Quite frankly, even though he was less than interested in learning how to fold a proper napkin, he’d been relieved when Ward had gathered everyone together for this particular lesson.
“And, if everyone will now pick up the napkins that are square, not rectangular, we’ll move on to a delightful knot I learned about just last week,” Ward said.
Caroline thrust a square piece of linen into his hand, leaving Everett with no choice but to accept it. Trying his best to follow Ward’s instructions, he looked around and discovered that the rest of Ward’s guests seemed to be having a marvelous time of it. They were laughing and chatting away as they tried to fold their napkins, a task that Everett, unfortunately, was finding very dull indeed.
If he were honest with himself, the most fun he’d had in a very long time had been when he’d recently spent time with the children and . . . with Millie.
It wasn’t as if they’d done anything extraordinary, although the fountain incident had certainly been one of the most unusual and amusing ways he’d ever spent an afternoon. What he’d enjoyed most of all, though, had been getting to know the children once again, which was why he kept considering the unusual idea that it had actually been a fortunate day when he’d run into, or rather run over, Miss Millie Longfellow.
She had, in a remarkably short period of time, gotten the children in hand, begun to help him form a relationship with those children, and had somehow been able to win his mother over in the span of less than—
“You’re not knotting your napkin.”
Pushing all thoughts of Millie straight out of his mind, especially since he had the sneaking suspicion she really shouldn’t be there in the first place, Everett found Caroline frowning back at him. Handing her his square of linen, he smiled.
“I’m afraid I just don’t have a talent for matters of a domestic nature, my dear.” He nodded to her napkin. “But since you apparently do, we should consider ourselves fortunate that we’ll never have our guests sit down to a table with improperly folded napkins on it.”
Looking somewhat appeased, Caroline began folding the napkin he’d given her. “Speaking of guests, I was recently given the name of a wonderful social secretary here in Newport whom I’ve already taken the liberty of contacting. That woman sent me a note just this morning telling me that she can fit creating and addressing our invitations into her schedule. And because I promised to pay her extra, she’ll be done with them by tomorrow morning—which means we can have them hand delivered to all of the people on our guest list by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Forgive me, Caroline, but I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I thought we’d agreed to host our ball toward the end of August, which would mean we certainly shouldn’t need to get our invitations out so soon.”
“I knew you weren’t listening when we were gathered on Dudley’s blanket and I was talking about the wonderful news Mr. McAllister had imparted to me.”
“I wasn’t with you on Dudley’s blanket.”
Caroline blinked. “Oh, well, then I apologize for snapping at you, but do try to do something about that frown on your face. I think Mr. McAllister is done with his lesson, so . . . I’ll let him tell you the good news.” She held out her hand, and after Everett helped her to her feet, he immediately found himself being steered around other picnic guests as Caroline marched them toward Mr. McAllister, who was now leaning against a tree.
As they approached Ward, Caroline began smiling a very lovely smile, even as Everett found it somewhat difficult to suppress a laugh when he realized Ward had taken to posing. One of the gentleman’s hands was placed just so in the pocket of his waistcoat, while the other was positioned on his hip, and there was a small trace of a smile on the older man’s face, a smile that held more than a hint of superiority.
“That was an interesting lesson on napkin folding, Ward,” Everett said, earning a regal nodding of the head from Ward in return. “Where do you learn these things?”
Ward pushed away from the tree. “Books are obviously a wonderful source, but, to be perfectly honest, I spend a great deal of time stalking servants at different houses. They’re founts of information—although . . . not everyone has the stomach to converse with domestics.”
A twinge of irritation snuck under Everett’s skin, but before he could respond, Caroline let out a small laugh.
“I know I certainly don’t have the stomach you obviously do, Mr. McAllister. But . . .” She sent another lovely smile Ward’s way. “I have yet to tell Everett the good news and thought that, just perhaps, you’d enjoy telling him.”
Ward released a chuckle and sent Everett an approving sort of nod. “You’ve done well for yourself there, dear boy, earning Miss Dixon’s great esteem. But . . . as for what she’s referring to, well, I’m sure you’ll be delighted to learn that there’s an opening in the social schedule just two weeks from now.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Kane had to cancel their ball due to a death in the family,” Caroline added in a rather breathy sort of voice, one that suggested she was having a difficult time containing her excitement. “And because of that, society will be looking for a replacement event, and that means they will not even expect the customary three-week notice.”
“That’s unfortunate about the Kane family suffering a death,” was the first thing Everett could think of to say.
Caroline wrinkled her nose. “Well . . . yes, I suppose that was unfortunate for the Kane family, but it’s fortunate for us, since Mr. McAllister, who created the guest list for the Kane ball, has now given that special list to . . . me.”
She turned back to Mr. McAllister. “I simply cannot thank you enough for parting with that list, Mr. McAllister. I’m convinced the ball Everett and I intend to hold will be considered one of the smashing successes of the summer season by all two hundred of the people we’re now going to invite.”
“Do you think two hundred people will fit in the ballroom at Seaview, Caroline?” Everett asked.
“Everyone knows that in order for a ball to be considere
d successful, it needs to be a true crush, so two hundred guests will be absolutely perfect. We might need to squeeze in the orchestra a bit, but I’m sure those musicians are used to working in crowded conditions.”
Ward smiled in Caroline’s direction. “Indeed they are, but speaking of the hired help, do be certain to send a note off immediately to the French chef I recommended, Monsieur Roquet. You’ll need to let him know that you’re a friend of mine, but if he is less than cooperative, you send me a note straightaway. These French people can be a bit . . . difficult, but they normally cooperate when faced with my displeasure.” He chuckled. “There are advantages, my dear Miss Dixon, to counting Ward McAllister as one of your friends.”
Caroline smiled a very satisfied smile. “I’ll pen him a letter as soon as I return home, as well as send for Miss Pickenpaugh so she can get Seaview ready with all the decorations and so forth.” She inclined her head at Mr. McAllister. “We’ll leave you to speak with your other guests, since I know you don’t want to neglect them.” She sent Everett an expectant look.
Clearly his throat, Everett thanked Ward as profusely as he was able, even though the man’s interference was going to cause Everett no small amount of trouble, as well as money, in the end. After speaking all the words of thanks he could possibly muster up, he took hold of Caroline’s arm and led her away, steering her over to a tree that was quite a distance away from their fellow guests, a tree that would afford the two of them a bit of privacy.
“This has just been the most delightful of afternoons,” Caroline said before he could get so much as a single word out of his mouth. “Why, our ball really will be considered the ball of the summer season, especially since I hinted to Mr. McAllister that it’ll end with a very special . . . event.”
A surge of panic hit from out of nowhere, stealing the breath straight from him.
Caroline’s idea of a special event could only mean she expected him to propose to her at the end of the ball. While it was true that they’d always planned to become engaged at some point . . . he hadn’t been planning on doing that proposing in the next two weeks.
“Do be sure to mention the change of date to your mother,” Caroline continued, apparently unaware of the fact he was in the midst of an anxiety spell. “I wouldn’t want her to be taken by surprise when Miss Pickenpaugh shows up at your house and begins rearranging the furnishings.”
Bending over, Everett forced himself to take a deep breath, and when he decided he was not going to embarrass himself by fainting dead away, he straightened. “You do realize that my mother will expect to help with the planning of this ball, don’t you?”
“Miss Pickenpaugh does not appreciate help, which is why she’s in such high demand. We pay her money, she arranges everything, and that’s how it’s done.” Caroline wagged a finger practically under his nose. “You’ll need to explain that to your mother and make sure she understands that she’s not to interfere. The last thing we want to do is have Miss Pickenpaugh take offense at something because she’ll never agree to organize a ball for us again.”
“I’ll try my best,” Everett finally said.
“Wonderful.” Caroline patted his arm, but her patting stopped when she looked past him and frowned. “It seems to me that Dudley is trying to get our attention . . . but . . . I wonder why all Mr. McAllister’s guests are currently smiling our way?”
Thirty minutes later, after learning why everyone had been smiling their way, Everett shifted on the buggy seat, the heat of the day unrelenting since the buggy’s top had been pushed down. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he dabbed at his face. He couldn’t help wonder for what felt like the hundredth time how it had happened that Dudley, along with every other guest who’d been in attendance at the picnic, had come to be invited back to Seaview, and were even now stuffed into buggies and following Caroline’s buggy down the road.
From what little he’d been able to gather, Dudley had taken it upon himself to speak in glowing terms about . . . the peacocks. That bit of glowing nonsense had apparently been what had prompted the idea, much to Caroline’s delight, of everyone traveling to Seaview to see the peacocks.
The only problem with the plan was that no one except Everett seemed to be grasping the notion that this particular outing could go horribly, horribly wrong.
“Isn’t this just so exciting, acting so impulsively and inviting all of our friends to Seaview to meet our delightful peacocks?”
Everett shot a look to Dudley, who was looking rather smug, as if he and he alone was finally going to make Caroline’s dream of owning the most fashionable of pets come true. Returning his attention to Caroline, Everett tilted his head. “I have to admit that I’m finding this more nerve-wracking than exciting. I’ve yet to be convinced the peacocks are all that delightful.”
Caroline waved that comment aside as she looked at Gertrude, who was sitting right next to Dudley on the opposite side of the buggy. “Did I tell you that I saw one of the peacocks peeking out at me from the bushes as I sat on the terrace at Seaview this morning, and . . . well, it was just too adorable for words. It was so beautiful that I immediately came to the conclusion I’d been right to purchase Everett an entire flock for his birthday.” She nodded in clear satisfaction. “You mark my words, after today, everyone will be running out to buy themselves a flock of peacocks because they truly are going to be the fashionable pets of the season.”
“I’m afraid you might be a little mistaken regarding your assessment of the peacocks’ character,” Everett said quietly, his words stealing the smile from Caroline’s face.
“Must you argue with everything I say these days?” Caroline asked as her cheeks turned a vivid shade of pink even though her delicate skin was protected by her parasol. “You’re putting a huge damper on the fun we’re trying to have this fine afternoon, as well as embarrassing our two very good friends who made the unfortunate choice of getting into this buggy with us, and . . .” Caroline waved a hand at him as if she couldn’t think of any other words to say as Gertrude and Dudley began taking a pointed interest in the passing scenery.
Opening his mouth to argue that point, Everett immediately snapped it shut again when he glimpsed the unmistakable sheen of tears in Caroline’s eyes and the slight trembling of her lips.
An exceedingly unpleasant notion walloped him squarely over the head.
Caroline was right. He did argue with her frequently these days, even over something as ridiculous as what type of character the peacocks possessed.
It didn’t matter if he agreed with her. Caroline obviously thought it was of grave importance to impress their friends with the birds, and because of that, she deserved better from him.
Taking a second to collect his thoughts, he studied Caroline, who was not looking his way but directing her attention to Dudley, who was now sending her looks of deepest sympathy. Knowing how Dudley felt about Caroline, the sympathetic looks were a tad annoying—but not completely unwarranted.
Caroline was, and had always been, a lady who demanded attention. She was spoiled, self-centered, and rather bossy, when it all came down to it, but she was what every gentleman within society aspired to marry. She was beautiful, accepted in all the right circles, charming when she put her mind to it, and . . . she’d decided that he, out of all the other eligible gentlemen in society, was worthy of her affections.
He reached for her hand. “You’re absolutely right, Caroline. I’ve been arguing with you quite often of late, which has not been well done of me at all. I must beg your pardon here and now, and I hope you’ll somehow be able to forgive me for my boorish behavior.”
“You have been a complete boor, Everett. Quite dreadful, in fact.”
The buggy took that moment to turn off of Bellevue Avenue and began moving up his drive, but he didn’t take his gaze from Caroline’s face. “You’ll forgive me?” he asked quietly.
“I suppose I’ll have to since you must know that everyone has . . . expectations regarding us at th
is point.”
Leaning closer to her, he lowered his voice. “Caroline, if you’re having second . . .”
“Good heavens,” Gertrude yelled, sitting forward on the seat as she interrupted Everett and pointed at something in the distance. “Are those peacocks trying to run that boy down?”
Swinging his attention to where Gertrude was pointing, Everett felt his mouth drop open at the sight that met his eyes. Peacocks were streaming over the lawn, the largest ones in the front, followed by what appeared to be babies, and . . . they were chasing after a small boy—who had to be Thaddeus, but . . . he was wearing pants—and . . . from all appearances, he seemed to be running for his very life.
“Driver, follow those peacocks,” he shouted.
The buggy thrust forward, throwing Everett back against the seat. A glance to the right had his mouth dropping open again. Two members of his staff were chasing after the peacocks, although why the men were carrying a ladder between them as they ran was more than Everett could comprehend.
The second the buggy began to slow, he jumped over the side and immediately headed for the peacocks, which had stopped moving right underneath a large tree, but were now screeching so loudly it actually hurt his ears.
“Uncle Everett,” Elizabeth shouted, waving him forward. “I sure am happy to see you.”
Since he’d been expecting words laced with panic, but had gotten a somewhat pleasant greeting instead, Everett slowed his pace. “It’s good to see you as well, Elizabeth,” he called over the screeching as he made his way to Elizabeth’s side. “What’s wrong with them?” he asked, nodding to two peacocks that were screeching louder than ever.
“They’re probably looking for Rose,” yelled a voice from above. “But . . . not to worry, I think I see her now.”
Glancing up into the tree, Everett spotted some feet, but then the peacocks abruptly went silent as Rose ran up to everyone, water slopping out of the glass she was clutching and soaking the front of her. She spared Everett not a single glance but sent a glare to Thaddeus, who was stepping out from behind one of the footmen.