Chapter 19

Nineteen

"It's amazing how many salesgirls have been sent to assist us," Luella whispered as Camilla browsed through a rack that held ready-made afternoon gowns. "Do you always receive such stellar service?"

After eyeing an attractive ivory gown with traces of lavender embroidered around a square neckline, Camilla pulled it off the rack, handed it to a salesgirl who'd said her name was Dorothy, then returned her attention to Luella.

"I imagine, after I told the manager of ladies' furnishings what I hoped to accomplish today, he sent out an ‘all hands on deck' call, hence the reason we now appear to have half the employees in the store at our disposal."

"It also didn't hurt that the manager had already been told you, an esteemed member of the Four Hundred, were in town," Lottie said, moving up to join them before she held up a riding habit of emerald green. "I thought this would go well with Luella's hair."

Camilla glanced at Luella, whose hair was drawn up on top of her head, Bernadette having teased little curls out of the upsweep. "Green is certainly a complementary color for her, and I'm also thinking we should find something in blue to bring out the color of her eyes."

"I'll see what I can find," Lottie said before she moved across the room and began browsing through another rack of clothing, just as the manager of the ladies' furnishings department, Mr. Kline, hurried up to Camilla, an older woman by his side.

"Miss Pierpont," Mr. Kline began, "allow me to introduce Mrs. Magruder to you. She's our lead associate in our intimate apparel department and will be ascertaining whether Miss Chesterfield has all the proper, ah, unmentionables needed to truly accentuate the many lovely gowns we hope she chooses today." Sending Camilla an inclination of his head, Mr. Kline turned and hurried across the room, stopping to whisper what were probably additional instructions to the salesgirls who were sorting through a rack of garments someone had fetched from a back storeroom.

"I've been informed, Miss Chesterfield, that you're here to add some essential pieces to your wardrobe," Mrs. Magruder said, moving close to Luella and settling a lovely smile on her. "I have missed your mother over the past few years because she was always such a valued customer, spending hours perusing the latest fashions and always returning home with numerous acquisitions for you." Mrs. Magruder's smile dimmed as she gave Luella a once-over. "You don't seem to have any lace or bows on your outfit today, although I distinctly remember that the gown you're wearing, one your mother purchased here before she left on her adventure to France, was originally emblazoned with charming bows and an abundance of lace attached to the bodice."

Luella immediately shot Camilla a look that clearly suggested she had no idea how to respond since Mrs. Magruder was evidently a fan of bows and lace.

"I fear I'm to blame for the lack of Luella's frills," Camilla said, drawing Mrs. Magruder's attention. "Luella, at least in my humble opinion, shows to advantage in more tailored, less embellished ensembles, which is why I had my lady's maid remove the bows and lace on the gown Luella's currently wearing, as well as alter the back so that she has no need of a bustle."

Mrs. Magruder blinked. "Why would you encourage Miss Luella to abstain from bustles when those are imperative in accentuating a woman's figure?"

"Because silhouettes have been changing in New York of late, undoubtedly because we ladies were beginning to grow weary of all the perching we were forced to do, given the large bustles that once-fashionable silhouettes demanded."

" Once -fashionable?" Mrs. Magruder asked rather weakly.

Camilla refused a sigh. "Forgive me, Mrs. Magruder, as I truly don't want to upset you, but I'm afraid bustles are no longer quite as in vogue in New York City." She presented Mrs. Magruder with her back. "If you'll notice, I'm not wearing a bustle, merely horsehair padding, which still allows a lovely silhouette but also allows me to sit with ease."

"I believe I need to have a word with our buyers," Mrs. Magruder mumbled before she dipped into a curtsy, then barreled across the store, stopping to whisper something to Mr. Kline, who shot a glance at Camilla before he strode through the department, Mrs. Magruder dogging his heels as they disappeared through an archway.

"I have a feeling Stone and Thomas might soon be displaying gowns cut in quite different silhouettes," Luella said, folding an afternoon gown of lavender over her arm. "It's too bad they didn't learn of New York's abandonment of bustles earlier, though, because all the gowns I'll be buying today require that ridiculous appendage. Poor Bernadette is going to have her hands full altering them."

"She won't be responsible for all the alterations," Camilla returned, eyeing another gown on the rack, but discarding it because pink wasn't a shade that would favor Luella's coloring. "Your grandmother knew, since we're on a time constraint, that it wouldn't be advisable to expect the alterations department here to handle it all, just as she realized Bernadette wouldn't be able to finish everything needed in a timely fashion. That's why she sent notes off to all the members of her sewing bee early this morning with the expectation those ladies will be more than happy to step in."

"Bernadette's going to be relieved to have that assistance."

"I'm sure she will, although I have to admit I was unaware she possessed any real seamstress skills to begin with."

"Bernadette told me, as she was ripping bows off the dress I'm currently wearing, that she was often called upon to fix costumes at the theater," Luella said. "That's where she also learned to arrange hair, because the hairdressers employed by the theater were always showing up late. According to Bernadette, she made a point to excel at alterations and dressing hair because she thought that would eventually lead to the manager of the theater company offering her a spot in one of his productions. From what I gathered, Bernadette longs to take to the stage."

"She's mentioned that to me as well, but since she's found herself in my employ, I assume that offer from the theater manager never materialized. That was obviously a setback for Bernadette, but one that's clearly worked out well for me." Camilla shook her head. "I fear I must admit that my first impression of my lady's maid was completely off the mark."

"Because?"

"She didn't appear to relish the role of lady's maid and complained almost incessantly about how often she needed to assist me with the wardrobe changes that are expected of someone with my social calendar," Camilla said. "Lately, though, she's barely complained at all and certainly surprised me when she insisted on staying behind today to work on the gowns I felt were salvageable from your closet. I would've thought she'd want to come shopping with us."

"Considering Meemaw's sewing bee has probably already gathered back at the house, undoubtedly all aflutter to learn why their help was needed, Bernadette is most assuredly finding herself in high demand, which I imagine has outweighed any regret she may have experienced over not accompanying us since she strikes me as a woman who enjoys being the center of attention."

"I'm almost afraid to ask this, but why would she be in high demand?"

"She's your lady's maid. She knows things about you, and the ladies will want to ferret out that knowledge, especially information pertinent to when Bernadette thinks you're planning on marrying my brother."

"They're in for a disappointment then, since Bernadette can't disclose that information as there aren't any real plans for Owen and me to marry."

"That's why you should prepare yourself for an interrogation from the ladies once we return to the country house."

"And while the idea of an interrogation sounds downright delightful, I overheard you and Charles making plans to go riding later this afternoon. I'm sure the ladies will be more than understanding when I tell them I can't linger around for any interrogating since I'll be assuming the role of chaperone."

"I don't need a chaperone."

"Given the way you and Charles were thick as thieves earlier, chatting about horticulture of all things, and then gazing intently at each other until we were ushered into ladies' furnishings, leaving Charles and Mr. Timken waiting for us on those comfy settees I assume were strategically placed to stash waiting husbands and the like, you, my dear Luella, are definitely in need of a chaperone."

"I've gone riding numerous times in my youth with boys I know and have never bothered to take a chaperone with me."

"But you're no longer in your youth. You're also determined to become a proper lady, and proper ladies, when in the company of a gentleman, require a chaperone to assure that expected proprieties are maintained."

"I doubt Charles would even consider abandoning proprieties with someone like me. We'll most likely spend our time riding speaking of horticulture. You'll then end up being bored to tears, which means there's no need for you to accompany us."

"Except that a shared interest often leads to other interests, and those interests are exactly why you need a chaperone." Camilla smiled. "However, if you're opposed to me taking on that role, I'll be more than happy to ask Elma to step in. She has, after all, promised to assist me with, as she says, ‘gussying you up.'"

Luella blinked. "Oh, I don't think there's any need to involve Aunt Elma."

"Does that mean you're agreeable to me chaperoning you?"

"I'd be absolutely thrilled to have you accompany us on our ride."

"Sarcasm, just so you know, should be used sparingly, but with the chaperoning business settled, off you go to the dressing room."

As Luella made her way across the room, Camilla moved to rejoin Lottie, who was holding up a hat, one she discarded a second later.

"It had a bow" was all Lottie said once Camilla stopped by her side.

"Luella does seem to have an aversion to bows."

"For good reason, since her mother and Ada Mae Murchendorfer apparently engaged in rivalry bow competitions over the years."

"An excellent point, but bows aside, and before I forget, I was wondering if you'd be opposed to stopping by Chesterfield Nails after we complete our shopping today. I've been longing to see how nails are manufactured."

Lottie abandoned another hat. "Please. The only thing you're longing for is an opportunity to create a supposedly random encounter between me and Edward because you've got matchmaking on your mind."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Lottie caught Camilla's eye. "Then explain, if you please, why you were all smiles when Edward and I returned with another load of furniture last night, even though he only offered to go with me because he's aware that Victor Malvado might be a threat."

"Since Leopold received another telegram early this morning from the Accounting Firm, who now has Victor under surveillance and hasn't noticed any unusual activity coming from him or his criminal associates, I think the threat level to both of us is relatively low right now."

"But we didn't know that yesterday, hence the reasoning behind Edward's gallant offer to protect me."

"Ah, so you find him gallant, do you?" Camilla smiled. "I'm sure that notion only increased after he chose to sit beside you last night at dinner and made a point of explaining all the local dishes to you before you tasted any of them."

"He sat next to me because you told him to."

"Did I?"

Lottie crossed her arms over her chest. "For a woman who keeps claiming to have retired from matchmaking, you certainly seem to be jumping back into it with gusto—and not only with me."

"Is it my fault that as a former matchmaker I'm finding it difficult to ignore what could certainly be spectacular matches that have all but landed in my lap?"

"Yes, that would be your fault, and while I agree that there's something interesting between Beulah and Leopold, and that learning Luella and Charles share a fondness for horticulture, which I can't believe too many people do, does suggest they might be more than compatible, Edward Stevens and I are not well matched."

"He's clearly besotted with you and spent yesterday practically glued to your side."

Lottie rolled her eyes. "And while his attention was certainly flattering, I'm not the woman for him. Edward, I'll have you know, teaches Sunday school, volunteers teaching English classes at a grammar school three times a week during his lunch hour, and escorts his mother to church two times a week."

"You attend church with me every Sunday, so I know you're not opposed to going to church."

"I never said I was, but besides all that, his mother belongs to that sewing bee of Beulah's and would certainly expect any woman her son might have an interest in courting to join her during her sewing days."

"You don't enjoy sewing?"

"It's not a favorite pastime, but you're missing the point. I, if you've forgotten, was only recently in the employ of Frank Fitzsimmons—a known criminal boss of the New York underworld. I'm not respectable enough for an upstanding gentleman such as Edward."

"You were only in Frank's employ because he threatened to harm your mother if you refused to work for him. And, in case you've forgotten, you're the daughter of an educated man who worked as a tutor—a completely reputable occupation."

"I'm a former criminal."

"With aspirations to become a teacher, which means you and Edward are more than compatible."

"We might be compatible, but I'm not marriage material for him, although..." Lottie caught Camilla's eye. "Edward did mention, after I told him about my interest in becoming a teacher, that there's a real need for educators in this area. Even without a formal degree, he thinks there are numerous schools that would hire me for the start of school come fall."

"See? That's wonderful."

"No, it's not, because I'm certainly not going to leave you in the lurch without a paid companion after everything you've done for me."

Camilla picked up a hat and began inspecting the brim. "I'm twenty-five years old, Lottie, almost twenty-six. I'm perfectly capable of muddling through life without a companion."

Lottie blinked before her brow took to furrowing. "Clearly I've been uncommonly dense of late because—did you offer me a position, not because your aunt Edna up and married Vernon, leaving you without a chaperone, although both of us decided, since I'm younger than you, that a companion would be more appropriate, but because you wanted to ascertain that I didn't get swept back into the criminal world after we learned that Victor Malvado was keen to have me join his motley band of hoodlums?"

"I wasn't very well going to let Victor get his hands on you, not when he's rumored to be a man lacking any and all redeeming qualities."

Lottie's eyes turned suspiciously bright as she settled a rather wobbly smile on Camilla. "You're far kinder than you allow everyone to know, but thank you for giving me a position to keep me from returning to criminal endeavors."

"You're welcome."

"I suppose now, with all that out in the open, and since I may not be in your employ long, which makes me feel as if I don't need to completely adhere to companion rules, I would like to..." Lottie stopped speaking and frowned. "Why does it appear as if you're trying to hold back a grin?"

"Because I wasn't aware you were deliberately attempting to adhere to any rules."

"Of course I was, but if you'll recall, I was only recently immersed in a world filled with criminals. Rules weren't exactly something I needed to worry about, which meant I had to put a great deal of effort into learning all the rules a proper companion was supposed to observe. However..." Lottie's eyes twinkled. "We're getting completely off the subject, so what I wanted to say was this—I'd like to lend you some advice."

"Advice?"

"Matchmaking advice, to be exact." Lottie stepped closer. "In my opinion, you need to stop concerning yourself with forging all these matches for everyone and concentrate on something that will benefit you for a change—that being arranging a match for yourself."

"Have you forgotten that I've made a vow never to marry?"

Lottie waved that aside. "Vows like that are meant to be broken. Besides, you're not destined for spinsterhood, not with Owen in the picture now."

"Do not say you've been listening to Beulah and have decided she's right about Owen being my match."

"I didn't need to listen to Beulah to realize that."

"But you should listen to me when I tell you Owen and I are not well-suited."

"Why not?" Lottie asked.

"Because, unlike you and Edward, Owen and I have nothing in common."

"Being a matchmaker, I'm sure you're more than familiar with the idea that opposites attract. Besides that, you speak your mind to him."

"That doesn't mean I want to marry him."

"You should at least consider my point, because you don't speak your mind to other gentlemen," Lottie argued. "I was with you almost constantly during our spring in the Hudson, as well as during our time in Paris. Yes, you spoke with many gentlemen, all of whom plied you with flattery, but none of whom sparked the slightest interest on your part. Owen, on the other hand, interests you."

Camilla opened her mouth with a rebuttal on the tip of her tongue, then closed it again because ... Lottie wasn't exactly off the mark.

Owen did interest her.

There were myriad reasons for why she found him interesting, one of the most prominent ones being the fact that he didn't flatter her. Even more interesting was that she knew he didn't flatter her, not because he wasn't adept with pretty words, but because he wasn't trying to impress her, a novel experience if there ever was one and frankly one she couldn't deny was appealing.

The only problem with finding him appealing, though, was that he'd not shown a single sign that he found her appealing in return.

She was accustomed to having gentlemen going to extreme measures to win her favor, and yet Owen hadn't done anything to suggest he wanted any favor from her. Quite frankly, he seemed almost oblivious to the fact she was even a member of the feminine set, and ...

"Oh, this is going to be interesting," Lottie suddenly proclaimed, yanking Camilla from her thoughts.

"What should be interesting?" she asked, glancing around.

Lottie nodded to two young ladies who were standing in the middle of the department, their gazes locked on Camilla—until they exchanged a bit of a look between them, lifted their chins in tandem, and began marching determinedly Camilla's way.