Chapter 16

Sixteen

Before Owen could argue the point about an upcoming Chesterfield wedding, or contemplate why Camilla's insistence that this particular wedding wouldn't involve them was slightly depressing, which was odd as their supposed forthcoming engagement was merely what she referred to as a clever bit of fiction, she suddenly moved to the window, peered through the glass, sucked in a sharp breath, then turned on her heel and dashed out of the room.

Having no idea what all the dashing was about, but praying it wasn't because a real threat was knocking on the door, Owen raced after her, almost barreling into Meemaw, who, upon seeing him, thrust what looked to be her recipe box behind her back before she waved him on, saying something about how she wasn't up to anything, so keep moving.

Wondering how it had come to pass that his life was turning downright peculiar these days, even though he suspected that state was a direct result of Camilla accompanying him to West Virginia, Owen raced through the front door and down the steps.

It didn't take long to spot Camilla, who was now halfway down the drive, yelling up a storm and flapping her arms about as she continued running full tilt ahead, an odd circumstance to be sure because he was relatively certain that a lady who'd once won an award for poise probably didn't make it a habit to do much flapping, or running for that matter.

Nevertheless, given that Camilla was a rather sensible sort, he doubted she was waving down men with kidnapping on their minds, but having no idea what all the fuss was about, he set his sights in the direction of the flapping, blinking when Gladys zoomed into view, zigzagging through the trees, the zagging evidently a direct result of the two coonhounds chasing her.

Camilla continued charging in the direction of the hounds, waving her arms more frantically than ever in an obvious attempt to distract their attention, which wasn't the brightest thing for her to do, especially since she apparently thought the hounds posed a threat to Gladys, which meant she should realize they could also pose a threat to her, even though they weren't vicious sorts, not that she knew that.

Realizing he needed to take charge of the situation before Camilla harmed herself with all the dashing and gesturing about she was doing, Owen let out a whistle that had the coonhounds abandoning their pursuit of Gladys and charging his way.

A blink of an eye after that, Gladys, rather than fleeing to safer, coonhound-free pastures, spun around, released a yip, and bounded, not toward Camilla, but directly after the hounds.

"Don't just stand there, Owen, catch her," Camilla yelled as she hitched up the hem of her skirt, changed directions, and began running after a poodle that was clearly in a state of frenzied excitement.

It quickly became evident that Gladys didn't want to be caught, because the second Owen took off after her, she began bounding about on her spindly legs, yapping up a storm, the yapping turning to flat-out barks when the coonhounds, Cleo and Calamity, began baying.

A second later, all three dogs bounded away, frolicking with one another as they bounded, which suggested all three of them were well on their way to becoming fast friends.

"I take it those dogs weren't chasing Gladys because they were in need of a snack?" Camilla asked, stopping three feet away from Owen, where she promptly whipped out a handkerchief from the pocket of the apron she was wearing and began, not daintily dabbing, as he'd been expecting, but completely mopping her face with it.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his handkerchief, and handed it to her.

"What's this for?" she asked.

"You seem to have an aversion to perspiration. You might need a spare on the off-chance you find yourself chasing Gladys again, although I doubt that'll be necessary since she's simply playing with my dogs."

"I wouldn't say I have an aversion to perspiration. It's more along the lines of a commitment to hold it at bay, but thank you for the spare." She tucked his handkerchief into her sleeve. "As for Gladys playing with your dogs, you should know that this is a very peculiar circumstance indeed, because she never exerts herself to do anything as frivolous as playing."

"Perhaps she's playing now because country life agrees with her," Owen said, nodding to where Gladys was now rolling around on the lawn as Cleo did the same beside her, while Calamity licked Gladys's face.

"Perhaps, but Gladys doesn't resort to frolicking about when I take her to the family house on the Hudson, which is out in the country."

"Maybe she's partial to West Virginia country."

Camilla tilted her head as Gladys took that moment to dash into the woods with Cleo and Calamity. "It does appear as if she's coming out of her lackadaisical shell here in West Virginia country, but should I be concerned about her encountering any dangerous wild animals?"

"She'll be fine as long as she sticks with Cleo and Calamity, but you should be aware that we do have a resident bear that goes by the name of Teddy, who's claimed Meemaw's backyard as part of his territory. I found him in a poacher's trap about a year ago when he was just a baby. Meemaw and I nursed him back to heath, but while we returned him to the wild, he still enjoys checking in with Meemaw every once in a while." Owen caught Camilla's eye. "He's relatively harmless, but you shouldn't let your guard down if he shows up, and whatever you do, if you encounter him, don't run. But you can do more of that flapping you were doing earlier."

Camilla lifted her chin. "I certainly wasn't flapping, but perhaps it'll be best if I simply avoid Beulah's cabin."

"Avoidance might be tricky since Meemaw will undoubtedly start badgering you to help her with her garden." Owen grinned. "Excessive nagging doesn't begin to describe the tactics she employs during the spring when she needs to get all her vegetables into the ground. She's notorious for sending out invitations for unpaid labor to the family." He smiled. "I'm sure you won't be surprised to learn that no one refuses her invitations, not when everyone in the family is fairly terrified of her."

"Your entire family is terrified of Beulah?"

"Well, not her siblings, but the younger generations are rather leery of her, all seventy-something of them."

"You have seventy people in your family?"

"There're over a hundred relatives at last count. Meemaw comes from a family of seven siblings, and then my mother, Betty Lou, has quite the extended family as well, which my father began taking responsibility for directly after he married her." Owen shook his head. "We used to gather together every month or so, but I'm sorry to say that hasn't happened much over the two years my parents have been gone."

"Why not?"

"Mother took over organizing those events from Meemaw years ago because my grandmother was getting a little surly about all the time it took to arrange matters. Since Mother's not available anymore, I should be the one in charge, and while I've been meaning to invite everyone to the country house, now that the construction is complete, I simply haven't gotten around to it."

"Then allow me to suggest that I, along with Luella, host an event sometime around the planting that's evidently going to be happening soon. That'll give me an opportunity to show Luella how to organize an event, which refined ladies are expected to know how to do."

A different sort of feeling settled in Owen's stomach, a sort that wasn't a knot or a dose of queasiness, but something that felt rather warm. "You wouldn't mind stepping in and planning a family reunion?"

"Not at all."

"Do you organize family reunions for your family often?"

"I'm afraid my family isn't all that close, nor are we a large family. I'm an only child and my father was an only child, as was my mother, and the only time we get together with my two sets of grandparents is to enjoy Christmas Eve services at Grace Church in the city."

Owen frowned. "You only see your grandparents once a year?"

"No. I see them separately, of course, but only occasionally at a few balls during the Season, or at the Newport Casino if they decide to summer there."

"But you don't share a close relationship with any of your grandparents?"

"Not since I made the decision to avoid marriage after my debut Season, something that left all my grandparents believing I'm a disappointment to the Pierpont and Rhinelander, my mother's family, names."

"I bet their disappointment would abate if you were to abandon your decision and decide to settle down."

"I fear there won't be any abating for my grandparents since it's not as if I've been contemplating abandoning my decision."

"Not even after Charles Wetzel arrived here, apparently determined to protect you?" Owen heard pop out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"What does Charles have to do with anything?"

It was difficult to know how to explain. After clearing his throat a time or two, he finally shrugged. "You were smiling at him, and in a manner that suggested you were incredibly fond of him."

"I am incredibly fond of him, but that doesn't mean it's fondness of the romantic type." Her brows drew together. "You aren't under the misimpression that every warm smile a lady sends a gentleman means she's romantically interested in that gentleman, or vice versa, are you?"

"Not if the smiles are directed at a man, say of Mr. Timken's age, or a relative. However..." He caught Camilla's eye. "Curtistine and Pauline made a point of smiling at me a lot, and very warm smiles at that. And after the fiascos I experienced with both those ladies, Luella told me that I should have realized, given the warmth of their smiles, that they were sent my way to engage my affections. She then told me that I shouldn't have smiled so much in return because my smiles obviously lent the misimpression I was romantically interested in both those ladies."

Camilla turned her head, but not before Owen caught sight of her lips curving into a grin. She dabbed at her lips with her handkerchief, then turned back to him, not a hint of a grin left on her face. "I'm starting to get the impression your sister may enjoy ruffling your feathers."

"That definitely might explain why Luella dissolved into a fit of laughter when she caught me standing in front of a mirror, practicing smiles that weren't overly warm," Owen muttered.

A bit of a snort drifted Owen's way before Camilla pressed together lips that were definitely twitching, then took a second to dab those lips with her handkerchief again and settled eyes that seemed to be filled with amusement on him. "While I certainly would have enjoyed seeing that type of practice, tell me this—have you put any of those less-than-warm smiles to good use?"

"I thought, given Luella's amusement, that I wasn't capable of enacting a credible less-than-warm smile, so I've simply abandoned any attempts to smile in general, which hasn't been all that difficult since I seem to be garnering more than my fair share of scowls from ladies these days." He winced. "Curtistine even went so far as to mouth the word lout when I saw her a few weeks ago crossing Main Street in Wheeling."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, you're not a lout, merely somewhat na?ve when it comes to women in general, which is actually rather charming."

Satisfaction of the male variety began running through him, brought about no doubt by the notion Camilla apparently found him rather charming, which wasn't exactly the same as finding him completely charming, but it was a far cry from her thinking he was a lout.

Before he could enjoy the satisfaction for long, though, another coonhound came loping across the lawn, baying up a storm the moment it took note of Cleo, Calamity, and Gladys, who'd raced out of the trees to greet the new arrival.

"Oh no," he muttered as Gladys bounded toward the new arrival, a dog by the name of Alma.

"Since you're not racing after Gladys, should I assume that's another one of your dogs?" Camilla asked, shading her eyes with her hand as she kept her gaze on Gladys, who'd already reached Alma. A nuzzle was Gladys's first order of business, something Alma apparently enjoyed because a second later, the two dogs dashed across the lawn, joined a moment later by Cleo and Calamity.

"Alma's not mine. She belongs to my great-aunt Elma, but since Alma's here, and Aunt Elma rarely lets Alma out of her sight, we're evidently soon to be honored with a visit from a relative of mine who holds the reputation of being difficult."

"More difficult than Beulah?"

"Beulah looks like a cuddly bunny compared to her sister, who's been likened to a grizzly bear at times."

Camilla blinked. "A grizzly bear?"

"Indeed, you know, one of the grouchiest and meanest bears out there."

"Well, how delightful," Camilla muttered. "But grouchiness aside, isn't it a little odd that your aunt Elma named her dog Alma, which is remarkably similar to her name?"

"Aunt Elma choosing Alma for her dog's name exactly explains my aunt's difficult attitude. She didn't make her choice because she thought Elma and Alma were catchy. She did it to annoy her twin sister, Alma, who is the sweetest woman you'll ever meet. Alma apparently did something to provoke Elma, which is why Elma decided to retaliate, hence the reason for naming her dog Alma."

"That was a whole lot of Elmas and Almas, enough to make your head spin. However..." Camilla's eyes twinkled. "Why did your great-grandmother name twin daughters Elma and Alma? One would think twins would be confusing enough without such similar names."

"It's West Virginia. We tend to do things a little differently here" was all Owen could think to say, spared from having to embellish his remark when a wagon rumbled into view, Aunt Elma holding the reins, her ever-present rifle propped up against the seat. Surprisingly, Mr. Timken was sitting on the seat beside her, and Miss Hester Baker, Aunt Elma's long-suffering paid companion, was perched behind the seat in the wagon bed, holding onto what appeared to be chairs, the entire back of the wagon filled with them.

"Where in the world does all this furniture keep coming from?" he asked.

"I told you, Luella's responsible, but I don't know any details surrounding her many furniture acquisitions. All I know is that Beulah and I stumbled on Luella's stash when we were looking for an appropriate place for Esmerelda to sleep at night after I told Beulah her pig wasn't going to be staying in your new house."

"Esmerelda's staying with us?"

"Beulah thinks Esmerelda will be bereft if we take her away from El Cid, and also believes that Esmerelda can double as a guard pig in case any of my would-be abductors show up."

Owen tilted his head. "Esmerelda is a surly sort, but did you actually tell Meemaw that her prized pig couldn't sleep in the house?"

"It's a pig. She belongs outside, and no, Beulah wasn't thrilled about that, but again, she apparently realizes I'm a formidable opponent and didn't put up too much of a fuss about it, although she might have mumbled something about me being a menace again." Camilla grinned. "At the rate I keep incurring the menace statements from her, it won't be long until she abandons the whole we're-perfect-for-each-other notion and declares to Wheeling at large that I'm ill-suited to become part of the Chesterfield family."

Any lingering male satisfaction running through him over Camilla stating she thought he was rather charming disappeared in a flash. "You do realize that it's somewhat insulting when you keep declaring, and vehemently, that we're so ill-suited, don't you?"

She gave his arm a pat. "There's nothing insulting about it. I'm a matchmaker. That means I'm an expert when it comes to matters of romance."

"You don't think I'm capable of romance?"

"I never said that, although given some of those romantic fiascos you recently told me about, you might benefit from having me give you a few pointers."

"They only would have been romantic fiascos if I'd been romantically interested in those ladies."

"A fair point."

Owen released a grunt. "Too right it is, and just so you know, I'm sure I could do romance properly if I set my mind to it."

"Duly noted," Camilla said before she glanced over his shoulder and winced. "Further talk of romance is going to have to wait, though, because your great-aunt is almost upon us. Given that you said she's a difficult woman, I suggest you greet her with a smile and kiss on the cheek, which may result with her turning less difficult."

Owen shook his head. "Aunt Elma will most certainly box my ears if I try to kiss her cheek."

Before Camilla could do more than grin, Aunt Elma pulled the wagon to a stop directly beside him and narrowed her eyes on him, although she might have simply been squinting to make sure it was him, then held out her hand.

"Don't just stand there, boy. I ain't gettin' any younger, and I'm itchin' to meet that girlie standin' beside you." Aunt Elma switched her attention to Camilla, completely ignoring the hand Owen had immediately held out for her the second he stepped close enough to the wagon. "I done heard rumors about Owen havin' found himself a hoity-toity fiancée, or almost fiancée, but you should know right now, li'l missy, that what with his mama still on holiday, it won't just be up to Beulah to decide if you're fittin' enough to join the family. That'll be up to me and the rest of our kinfolk as well, and know that I plan to keep a very, very close eye on you."