Out of the Ordinary Page 6

  Gertrude was hardly put at ease when the lady stopped directly in front of her and held out the bowl—one that was filled to the brim with butter.

  Accepting the butter because she couldn’t think of a good reason not to, Gertrude’s lips curved as the lady dropped the handle of the satchel to the floor and smiled Gertrude’s way.

  “Ah, Gertrude, what a clever lady you seem to be, getting yourself unstuck from a situation I was led to believe was nothing less than dire. We’ll have no need for the wrench Harrison told me to fetch after all.” The lady fished a wrench out of the bodice of her lovely blue traveling gown and tossed it in the direction of the fainting couch before she turned back to Gertrude and immediately began looking her up and down. “My brother wasn’t exaggerating your current dilemma, though. You do seem to have taken leave of your clothing, and while I applaud your resourcefulness with a plot that appears to be downright ingenious, do know that the other members of my family might not be as approving as I am about that plot.”

  Gertrude tightened her grip on the bowl of butter. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Miss . . . ?”

  The young lady blinked, then shoved aside a raven-black curl that was obscuring part of her face, revealing features that suggested she might very well be one of Harrison’s sisters. “Oh, do forgive me. I’m Edwina Sinclair, of course, and you’re Miss Gertrude Cadwalader, a very dear friend of my brother’s if I’m not much mistaken.” Her smile dimmed. “But good heavens, I’m sure I’ve taken you completely aback by calling you Gertrude when I first entered the room, although it does seem rather silly to call you anything else, especially since I have every hope that you and I will someday be related. However, according to the etiquette books I’ve been gobbling up of late, young ladies of the proper kind are not supposed to address each other informally, not until they’ve gotten permission to do so, that is.”

  Finding herself charmed by the very earnest Miss Edwina Sinclair, Gertrude set aside the bowl of butter. “While I’m not exactly sure how we’d come to be related, do feel free to use my given name. Your brother and I do share a friendship, and because of that, it does seem silly for us to adopt a formal attitude.”

  Edwina clapped her hands together. “Ah, how lovely, and you must call me Edwina. I knew you and I were destined to become fast friends, and I feel as if we’re friends already since my brother has spoken so highly of you and on a frequent basis at that.” She sent Gertrude a wink. “As for the matter about how we’ll be related, should I assume you’re simply being coy until an announcement is made—one that I’m certain will be made soon now that my brother has apparently spent time in your company while you’ve been less than appropriately dressed?”

  Gertrude frowned. “I fear you’re under a grave misimpression, Edwina. Harrison did not spend any significant time in this library with me, having merely stepped into the room before stepping directly out of it again.”

  Edwina’s forehead furrowed. “It wasn’t intentional, having Harrison discover you in your unmentionables?”

  Gertrude’s forehead took to furrowing as well. “I should say not.”

  “And here I thought you’d decided to take matters into your own hands, hastening my brother’s decision to marry you, but no matter.” She sent Gertrude another wink. “With my help, you mark my words, you’ll be married to Harrison before the summer has a chance to end.”

  “Ah . . . well . . . ah . . .”

  “Save your appreciation until you’re about to walk down the aisle,” Edwina interrupted, although it wasn’t much of an interruption since Gertrude couldn’t think of anything else to say. “We have important business to attend to, that being getting you into tip-top shape.” She turned on her heel and marched back to the door, reappearing a moment later, towing none other than Temperance Flowerdew, Clementine’s distant cousin, beside her.

  “Temperance has agreed to help me get you more presentable,” Edwina said as she pulled Temperance across the library. “Although I’m not certain why she was lingering out in the hallway. She, from what little conversation we’ve shared while fetching you some clothing, and the butter of course, lent me the impression the two of you are friends.”

  Temperance shot a look to Gertrude even as her lips twitched. “I was lingering outside to allow you an opportunity to become acquainted with Edwina. I assumed my presence would only add confusion to what was certainly going to be an unusual introduction, and I do believe I was quite right about that.” She nodded to the garments that were cascading over her arms. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, shall we get you properly dressed once and for all?”

  Before Gertrude could respond, Edwina let out a ripple of laughter. “My introduction to Gertrude pales in comparison to the introduction you and I shared, Temperance—what with all that yelling that was taking place at the time.” She turned to Gertrude. “Temperance and I decided we needed to quit the wheelhouse lickety-split when some heated words began to fly.” She gave a sad shake of her head. “Poor Temperance was looking quite like a deer caught in the coach lights when her cousin, a dreadful woman if I’ve ever met one, burst into the wheelhouse, dragging poor Temperance along with her. That dreadful woman then threw herself into the argument Mrs. Davenport was engaged in with my sister Margaret, adding a great deal of drama to a situation that was rapidly turning concerning.”

  Glancing to Temperance, who, in Gertrude’s opinion, was once again looking exactly like a deer caught in the coach lights, she turned back to Edwina. “I’m sorry, but did you just say that Mrs. Davenport was engaged in an argument with your sister?”

  “Indeed, and it was a juicy argument at that, one with all manner of accusations being thrown around, most of them having to do with some type of skullduggery being perpetuated on board this very yacht.”

  Chapter

  Six

  With her legs turning ever so wobbly due to the troubling information Edwina had disclosed, Gertrude moved back to her chair and sat down. “Should I ask what manner of skullduggery Mrs. Davenport was being accused of, and . . .” She frowned. “Why in the world would Clementine throw herself willingly into an argument between two ladies I don’t believe she’s overly familiar with, and why would she have gone into the wheelhouse in the first place?”

  “While this is embarrassing for me to admit,” Temperance began as Edwina looked over the gowns she was carrying, “I fear Clementine was lying in wait for Harrison on the aft deck, and after she saw him disappear into the wheelhouse, there was no stopping her from following him.” Temperance shook her head. “She insisted I accompany her, and I must tell you now, Gertrude, my cousin seems most put out with you. She kept muttering something about not gaining your cooperation, which might have been the incentive behind her making some ridiculous claim about you and a painting Clementine apparently saw you admiring.”

  Pulling a dress from Temperance’s arms, Edwina held it up, eyeing it even as she nodded. “From what little I was able to gather, Clementine was trying to suggest you were contemplating making off with the painting hanging in this very room, but I’m afraid I don’t know what happened after that since everyone started shouting and Temperance and I decided to hightail it right out of there.” Holding out the dress, she walked toward Gertrude. “Luckily for you, Harrison had already told me about your unfortunate predicament, which gave me a reasonable excuse to leave the wheelhouse when events began turning tricky. I’m still a little confused about why Mrs. Davenport shouted that bit about you needing some butter, but . . .” She changed directions, set the dress she was holding on a chair, bent over to the satchel, rummaged around in it, then pulled out what appeared to be a loaf of bread wrapped in cloth. Gliding over to Gertrude, she handed her the bread.

  “The only conclusion I could make about the butter was that you must be hungry and needed a snack before dinner is served. That’s why I had the men in the galley include a loaf of bread, because, well, I’ve never known anyone to enjoy butter b
y itself.”

  For the briefest of seconds, Gertrude simply allowed all of Edwina’s words to settle into her mind, but then, after they’d settled, she couldn’t help but laugh. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. As tears of mirth began leaking out of her eyes, she accepted the handkerchief Edwina handed her, pretending not to notice that Harrison’s sister was now looking at her with concern.

  Waving aside the bread that Temperance had evidently buttered for her while she’d been in the throes of hysterics, Gertrude swallowed a last laugh, grinning when Temperance shrugged and began eating the slice of buttered bread.

  “This is delicious, although I do beg your pardon, Gertrude, for not inquiring whether you wanted to share your snack,” Temperance said after she swallowed the bite of bread and looked somewhat guilty.

  Gertrude waved the apology aside. “I’m not hungry, Temperance, and curious as this is going to sound, Mrs. Davenport didn’t suggest the butter as a snack, but more as an alternative way to get me unstuck from behind the couch.”

  “I knew I was going to like that woman,” Edwina said, pausing in the act of shaking out the gown she’d been considering. “What an intriguing idea, using butter to get a person unstuck. Mrs. Davenport must be a most resourceful sort. Did I mention that she was holding her own with Margaret, a woman who has been known to make grown men shake in their boots?”

  Gertrude leaned forward. “Speaking of that, we need to get me dressed sooner rather than later. Mrs. Davenport is not a woman to abandon an argument, and I shudder to think what she may say if she fears your sister is getting the best of her.”

  Edwina shook her head. “As I said, Mrs. Davenport was holding her own, and you’re not leaving this room until I have you looking your best.” She nodded to the bread Temperance was in the process of buttering up again. “While I’m perfectly capable of dressing you quickly, it might be uncomfortable for you, what with all the lacing and pulling and buttoning up I’ll need to do. It may be prudent for you to have a small snack to fortify you for the mission ahead.”

  “While I thank you for such a considerate suggestion, Edwina, I’m certain the last thing I need to do is indulge myself with bread and butter. I have no desire to ever become stuck again due to my figure, which means I need to start being mindful about what I eat.”

  “Harrison told me you have a delightful figure,” Edwina said, eyeing Gertrude up and down. “And, from what I can tell, even with you sitting down, he was quite right about that.”

  Something warm and delightful began thrumming through Gertrude’s veins. “Harrison actually said that?”

  “Indeed, although it wasn’t said in a forward manner if that is a concern. The subject of your figure was broached when he was trying to describe what type of dress I should search out for you.” Edwina leaned closer to Gertrude. “In my humble opinion, Harrison taking notice of your figure is telling indeed since he’s not a gentleman who usually pays such a marked attention to such matters.”

  Straightening, Edwina held out the gown she was still holding. “But no time to delve into the intricacies of my brother’s mind, we need to get you ready. I’ll have that blanket if you please, and after we get you dressed, well, we simply must do something about your hair.”

  Realizing there was little point in balking because she couldn’t very well leave the library until she was suitably dressed, Gertrude rose from the chair, parted ways with the blanket, and soon found herself taken well in hand by Harrison’s sister. Before she knew it, her laces were being pulled in an entirely too enthusiastic manner—so enthusiastic, in fact, that she was finding it difficult to breathe.

  “You may need to loosen those laces just a touch,” she said in a breathy voice, the only type of voice she was capable of making since air was difficult to come by.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Edwina said, panting ever so slightly as she gave the laces one last pull. “You’re rather larger than I am in the bosom area, which means tight laces are the only way we’ll get you into my gown.” She made short shrift of tying the laces before nodding to Temperance, who was on her third piece of bread and butter. “I don’t believe we’ll have the same problem with the gown of mine that you’re going to wear, Temperance. You have exactly the opposite figure from Gertrude, being so slender and willowy.”

  Temperance paused with the bread halfway to her mouth. “I’m sure there’s no need for me to borrow one of your gowns. If you’ve neglected to notice, the one I’m wearing is perfectly respectable.”

  Edwina immediately narrowed her eyes on Temperance. “While that gown certainly does the job of covering you, Temperance, it does not show you to advantage. It’s at least five seasons out of date and doesn’t fit you properly, leaving you looking as if you’ve missed far too many meals instead of simply being slender.” She gestured to the pile of dresses that were now on the fainting couch. “Any one of those would look darling on you, and I promise if you allow me to style you this evening, you’ll not regret it.”

  Stuffing a piece of bread into her mouth, Temperance chewed, swallowed, and then shook her head. “While it’s very kind of you to offer to style me, Edwina, although not the part where you pointed out that my gown does not show me to advantage, I think I’ll just leave you to work on Gertrude. In all honesty, I need to check on my cousin. It was not well-done of me to abandon her the way I did, even with her making a cake of herself by barging into that argument.”

  Edwina’s expression turned stricken. “Do forgive me, Temperance. I certainly didn’t mean to insult you. I fear etiquette books are sorely lacking at times with providing a lady with the knowledge needed to traverse that pesky field known as manners. But that’s certainly not an acceptable excuse for my blurting out observations that shouldn’t be spoken aloud.”

  Temperance smiled and moved up next to Edwina. “That was a lovely apology, Edwina, and one that would have done any etiquette book proud. I accept your apology, and as a woman who grew up attending the finest finishing schools and was taught to always consider every word that slips past my lips, I find myself oddly envious of your ability to speak your mind. There are certainly times when I think saying exactly what one longs to say is beneficial, but it is not something I’ve had the courage to do of late.”

  Edwina returned Temperance’s smile. “You’re very gracious, and do know that I will try to mind my manners from this point forward. Although . . .” She cocked her head to the side. “This will probably come out rather forward as well, but if you’ve attended the best finishing schools, why is it that . . .” Her words trailed away as she looked Temperance over and winced.

  Temperance laughed. “See, you’re doing better already at minding your manners, although I know full well you were about to ask why I look so dowdy. But, since you have decided we’re to be great friends, and I could certainly use more of those, I’ll tell you why. My parents died a few years back, and unfortunately, I’ve now become a poor relation, something that has done wonders for allowing me to embrace a humble attitude.”

  “But wouldn’t you enjoy abandoning that humble attitude, along with that hideous dress you’re wearing, if only for this one night?” Edwina pressed.

  Temperance frowned. “You’re very tenacious, aren’t you?”

  “It’s another flaw I’ve been trying to work on.”

  “Not having much success with that flaw either, are you?”

  Edwina grinned. “I’m afraid not, but do say you’ll let me fix you up. It’ll be my way of making up for my serious lack of manners.”

  Temperance returned the grin. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to see what you can do with me. Although, as a confirmed wallflower and poor relation, I’m afraid any efforts on your part will be for naught since I doubt I’ll draw any notice even if I am fashionably dressed.”

  “A lady, when fashionably dressed, always draws attention, be she a wallflower or not.” Edwina gestured to her person. “I am, undoubtedly, not a member of the society set, nor am
I a wallflower. But I never step foot out of the house without looking my best, which allows me to embrace my days with confidence.”

  With that, Edwina returned to the business of getting Gertrude dressed, proclaiming her ready to go within a remarkably short period of time.

  Because Gertrude felt quite like a stuffed sausage and knew she might have a tough time of it rising from a chair if she took a seat, she remained standing as Edwina threw herself into the process of dressing Temperance.

  Fluffing up the skirt of the gown she’d pulled over Temperance’s head, Edwina stepped back and nodded. “There. Perfection. Now the two of you will blend in seamlessly with the crowd at the Manhattan Beach Hotel.”

  “We’re going to the Manhattan Beach Hotel?” Gertrude asked.

  “You and Temperance are going to the Manhattan Beach Hotel,” Edwina corrected. “I have not been invited.”

  Gertrude wrinkled her nose. “I’m certain you must be mistaken about not being invited.”

  “I’m certain I’m not. Harrison neglected to extend an invitation to me or my sisters.”

  “Then allow me to do so now, Edwina.” Gertrude held up her hand when Edwina immediately began protesting. “As one of Permilia’s closest friends, I can assure you that she certainly wouldn’t mind you joining us, nor would Mr. Asher Rutherford mind for that matter. In all honesty, I’m sure Harrison simply assumed you and your sisters realized you were expected to attend the event at the hotel, but being a gentleman, he forgot to mention it.”

  Edwina shook her head. “He didn’t include us because he knows my mother would be most put out with him if he did. My sisters, Adelaide and Margaret, are not ladies who care for balls, dinners, or dressing in glamorous fashions, so they are not put out in the least by the idea that they’ve not been invited. I, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to be given an opportunity to mingle with society members, a notion my mother finds appalling. That is exactly why I know for a fact she’s made Harrison promise to keep a watchful eye on me while she’s away.”