Chapter 11

Eleven

For the briefest of seconds, Camilla braced herself for the worst, until she realized that Esmerelda was not preparing for an imminent battle.

Instead, the pig was simply standing still as a statue in the middle of the road, her little piggy eyes fixated on El Cid, who was now spitting as well as hissing as he held his ground in front of Gladys, clearly having appointed himself her protector. A bit of a snuffle escaped the pig before she dropped her head and lumbered her way over to the Murchendorfers' destroyed flower garden, plopping onto her stomach and dropping her pink head in between her front hooves.

"What in the world has that beast of a cat done to my darling Esmerelda?"

Glancing over her shoulder, Camilla discovered an older lady striding from Owen's house, her gray hair pulled into a messy bun, wearing an apron over a faded blue dress that ended above her ankles, revealing sturdy black boots that were similar to ones Camilla had seen her gardeners wearing.

"I think a more important question, Meemaw, would be how Esmerelda was able to wreak havoc on the entire neighborhood," Owen countered.

Meemaw shot a glance at Esmerelda, who was still lying in the Murchendorfers' decimated flower bed, then took a moment to look up and down the street, wincing a second later.

"Looks like my darling must have gotten through the back fence somehow, although I know I didn't leave the gate open, what with how Esmerelda's been known to wander."

"Knowing your pig, she probably gnawed her way through the fence," Owen said before he walked over to his grandmother and placed a kiss on her cheek. "The question of the hour, though, is why she's here in the first place, or for that matter, why you're here. You haven't come to the island since Mother and Father left town."

"I needed to make a statement."

"And that statement involved bringing your pig?"

"'Course it did." Meemaw nodded to the Murchendorfer house. "Ada Mae was rude to Luella and had me realizing she needed to be reminded of her roots. She seems to have forgotten she was raised on a farm, played in the mud with your father when they were children, and used to take great enjoyment minding the pigs her father kept." Meemaw began wiping her hands on her apron. "These days, Ada Mae's turned far too pretentious for my tastes. After she didn't invite Luella to Stanley's homecoming tea, and then didn't reprimand him for having the audacity to tell his once-dear friend that she wasn't good enough for the likes of him, my tolerance for idiocy came to a rapid end."

"You never have tolerance for idiocy," Owen pointed out.

"Too right I don't." Meemaw drew herself up. "I hesitated to get involved in the matter, though, knowing how these matters can escalate and turn troublesome. However, after Luella told me about the pond debacle, and that Stanley, with all his talk about refined airs, didn't have the decency to remove himself and his friends from her vicinity once he realized Luella was practically naked, I had no choice but to insert myself into what could very well turn into a repeat of the Hatfield–McCoy fracas."

"We are not going to get into that type of feud with the Murchendorfers, even if they have insulted the family," Owen argued.

"I don't know how else we can resolve the matter because it's doubtful Stanley or Ada Mae will apologize."

"We'll resolve it peacefully with the assistance of Miss Camilla Pierpont," Owen said, sending a nod Camilla's way.

Camilla immediately found herself under the unwavering stare of Meemaw, fighting the peculiar urge to fidget as the lady gave her a thorough perusal.

"Good heavens, dear, you look like you've literally been dragged through the mud."

"Truer words have never been spoken," Camilla said, glancing down at a gown that certainly no longer resembled the Parisian masterpiece she'd donned earlier. "And while I'm unaccustomed to meeting anyone's grandmother while drenched in substances that may not only be mud, I'm Miss Camilla Pierpont, as Owen mentioned, and you're apparently, ah ... Meemaw?"

"Might be more comfortable for you to be calling me Mrs. Chesterfield, or Beulah would be fine, unless..." Beulah's gaze sharpened on Camilla. "If you're fixin' to marry my grandson, you might as well call me Meemaw from the start since that'll save you the bother of switchin' names after vows have been exchanged."

"Oh, I'm not planning on marrying your grandson," Camilla said. "I'm simply here to—"

The rest of her explanation got lost when a carriage came trundling down Zane Street, pulling to a stop in front of the Murchendorfer house. A second later, the door flung open, and a lady dressed in an afternoon gown of palest blue all but leapt to the ground.

It was quite telling that the lady hadn't waited for the groomsman to open the door for her, just as it was telling that the lady's face began to mottle the second she caught sight of Esmerelda lying in the midst of what Camilla assumed had once been a delightful flower garden.

The lady's nose shot into the air before she began advancing Beulah's way. "I presume you have something to do with that pig in my yard, Mrs. Chesterfield?" the lady demanded.

Beulah didn't so much as bat an eye. "Don't be ridiculous, Ada Mae. I certainly couldn't have anticipated Esmerelda making her great escape from the backyard. Rest assured, your garden will be replanted by tomorrow evening, as will everyone else's in the neighborhood, so there's no need to take that snotty tone with me."

"I don't go by Ada Mae these days. It's simply Ada, although I prefer Mrs. Murchendorfer."

"You'll always be Ada Mae to me since I've known you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper," Beulah countered. "Why, I can remember clear as day how you used to steal into my kitchen with my Hiram after I put my pies up to cool, snitchin' pieces of it and gobblin' it down without botherin' to use a fork." Beulah took a step closer to Ada Mae. "Truth is, I have three of those pies in the oven as we speak, but unless you're plannin' on giving my Luella a proper apology for your unacceptable southern manners, because don't think word hasn't reached my ears about all the gossiping you've been doing of late, I won't be bringin' a pie to you ever again."

"Apology?" Ada Mae all but shrieked. "I have nothing to apologize for. Your granddaughter broke Stanley's nose, which proves I wasn't wrong in my assessment regarding her lack of refinement. Ladies, as even you know, do not physically assault anyone ... ever."

"Stanley deserved that punch in the nose, and he knows it," Beulah didn't hesitate to say. "Frankly, he should be ashamed of himself for whining about it to his mama. A man should take a punch like he's a man, 'specially when he was due one, and 'specially when it was delivered by a girl."

"Due one?" Ada Mae scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. All Stanley did was decide he no longer cared to continue any type of association with your unquestionably unrefined, and need I add violent, granddaughter. Besides that, it's not as if they were ever anything but the most casual of friends, which is exactly why I didn't invite her to the tea I hosted to celebrate Stanley's return from his grand tour."

"Stanley stood on the porch of my cabin a few years back and promised Luella that even though he was off for college, he would always return to her," Beulah countered.

"As a friend ."

Beulah shrugged. "Sounded like he wanted more than friendship from where I was lurkin' behind the door, but even if he only meant he wanted to maintain a friendship with her, one doesn't treat a friend as shabbily as he's treated Luella." She narrowed an eye on Ada Mae. "Do you know that boy of yours had the audacity to come upon Luella whilst she was swimming in McGovern Pond? Instead of doing the proper thing, though, and leaving her alone, he, along with his insufferable friends, lingered about until Esmerelda went after him."

Ade Mae's nostrils flared. "Is that why you brought your pig to the island—to let it have another go at my son?"

"Wish I would have thought of that, but . . ." Beulah glanced at Esmerelda and tilted her head. "When is Stanley expected home?"

It wasn't exactly a surprise when Ade Mae began swelling on the spot.

"You will not set your pig on Stanley because it's hardly his fault your granddaughter made the poor decision to abandon all sense of decency when she decided to take a dip in the pond while being practically in the, ah, buff. Her apparent preference for swimming in that state is exactly why she's always forced to swim alone."

Camilla's temper, something that had begun to simmer the second Ada Mae had stomped over to join them, ratcheted up a notch. "It seems to me," she began, drawing Ada Mae's attention, "as if a few of Luella's lady friends frequently enjoyed swimming with her until you and your son took it upon yourselves to publicly humiliate her, which then resulted with the residents of Wheeling seeing Luella as fair game for their cruel remarks."

Ada Mae drew herself up. "Luella's unbecoming behavior is what caused her to become unpopular with the most prominent families in Wheeling. And not to be rude, but I have no idea who you are or why you're inserting yourself into this conversation."

Camilla drew herself up as well. "I get the distinct impression you might make a habit of accidental rudeness, Mrs. Murchendorfer, but before you attempt to argue with that, which might come across as intentional rudeness, I'm Miss Camilla Pierpont. And while it was certainly somewhat rude of me to insert myself into your conversation, I did so because I've been made privy to what transpired between you, your son, and dear Luella. I'm certainly not the type of lady who'll stand silently by and allow you to attempt to further besmirch Luella's character."

"I've never heard of any Pierponts before, which suggests you're not from a family of any standing around here," Ada Mae said before she looked her up and down, settling what was certainly a condescending smile on Camilla a moment later. "If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say, given your somewhat cultured tone of voice, that you're a decorum instructor, probably a former governess, brought here by Owen in a desperate attempt to teach his sister a few pointers in the etiquette department before she completely ruins what small amount of influence her family still retains in town."

Camilla squared her shoulders, but before she could get a single word of rebuke out of her mouth, Bernadette came stomping up to stand beside her, shaking her finger in Ada Mae's direction.

"Miss Pierpont is certainly no decorum instructor," Bernadette snapped. "She's the daughter of Hubert Pierpont, one of the wealthiest gentlemen in the country."

Ada Mae's nostrils flared. "And who are you to think I'm simply going to take what sounds like a completely ridiculous story as truth?"

Bernadette's nostrils flared right back at her. "I'm Bernadette Millersport, Miss Pierpont's lady's maid, which means I'm in the know about everything regarding the Pierpont family. If that's not enough to convince you, then I would hope that you, a lady who seems determined to put on some fancy airs, know that decorum instructors don't have the means to hire maids, nor do they belong to the New York Four Hundred, which Miss Pierpont most certainly does. Truth be told, she's a leader amongst the upper crust in New York, a very exclusive group of the wealthiest and most proper families in the country." Bernadette drew in a breath of apparently much-needed air. "Besides all that, know that the traveling gown she's wearing is from Worth—as in the Parisian Charles Worth—and that single gown costs more than any decorum instructor would make in a year."

Ada Mae's mouth dropped open for the briefest of seconds before she sent Bernadette a scowl and then arched a delicate brow Camilla's way. "What's a member of the New York Four Hundred doing associating with a family of ne'er-do-wells?"

Camilla's temper intensified to boiling, which made thinking a little tricky as she took a step toward Ada Mae, who immediately took a step backward. "You forget yourself, Mrs. Murchendorfer, because the Chesterfields are a family I'm proud to be associated with and most certainly aren't ne'er-do-wells. As for what I'm doing here, Mr. Owen Chesterfield invited me to travel to Wheeling to become better acquainted with his beloved grandmother, as is only proper."

"Why on earth would that be proper?"

Camilla arched a brow. "I would think that's obvious, but since it's apparently not, the rules of etiquette demand that introductions be made to the matriarch of a given family before any formal announcement is made."

"Formal announcement?" Ada Mae repeated.

"Indeed, and one of the matrimonial variety, if that's in question."

Ada Mae blinked. "Surely you're not saying you're intending to marry Owen Chesterfield, are you?"

"That, my dear Mrs. Murchendorfer, is exactly what I'm saying."