Chapter 5

Five

Camilla got up from the settee and made her way to the French doors, her gaze traveling over the back lawn and lingering on the river she'd recently been submerged in, needing a moment to contemplate what Owen had just disclosed about his sister.

She'd never met a lady who'd broken anyone's nose, and that Luella had managed to accomplish that, well—it suggested she was far more than "a bit of a handful."

Squaring her shoulders, she turned and caught Owen's eye. "Forgive me, Mr. Chesterfield, but given what you've just told me transpired between your sister and Stanley Murchendorfer, I'm afraid I don't possess the qualifications needed to rectify the whole breaking-a-gentleman's-nose situation."

Owen rose to his feet. "Luella doesn't make a habit of inflicting bodily harm, Miss Pierpont. I fear she was simply overcome with temper after Stanley mocked her, which I'm sure you'll agree was ungentlemanly decorum on his part. In all honesty, Walter Townsend's recommendation alone regarding your incredible success with Adelaide Duveen is enough to assure me you're fully qualified to carry out what I acknowledge is going to be a daunting undertaking."

"Daunting might be an understatement."

"A fair point, but from what Walter disclosed, Adelaide had been facing social ostracization until you stepped in and turned her into one of the most sought-after ladies of the New York Season. Not only did you manage that impressive feat, you were also responsible for matching her up with Gideon Abbott, one of the most eligible bachelors in New York last year."

Camilla refused a sigh as she moved to retake her seat. "While I might have dabbled in a touch of matchmaking between Adelaide and Gideon, I hope you're not about to suggest that I not only take Luella in hand, but also smooth matters over between her and this Stanley character. If Walter neglected to mention this, I'm officially retired from the matchmaking business."

"You're not completely retired," Mr. Timken contradicted as he walked into the room.

Camilla frowned. "Of course I am."

"Then explain why I have it on good authority that you've been considering taking on Charles Wetzel and Leopold Pendleton to sponsor, at least unofficially."

"What good authority told you that?"

"A proper butler never reveals his sources."

She settled back on the chair. "A proper butler also never contradicts his employer in front of a guest."

Mr. Timken sent her a wink. "Touché."

She bit back a smile. "May I assume there was a reason you abandoned your normally strict adherence to what you always refer to as the rules of butler brotherhood?"

"I might have been hoping that by reminding you that you're not actually retired, you might consider Mr. Chesterfield's proposal."

"Because?"

"Disclosing that reason would once again leave me abandoning my normal adherence to the butler brotherhood."

"But since you've come this far, you might as well disclose away."

Mr. Timken inclined his head. "Very well. I'd like you to consider taking on Luella Chesterfield because you've been suffering from ennui often of late. Assisting that young lady would fill up your days, and given that Mr. Chesterfield admitted she's a handful, your ennui would no longer be a problem."

"A somewhat valid point," Camilla admitted.

"It's an excellent point, and you know it."

"There you go again, abandoning your butler brotherhood rules of proper behavior."

"But only because I have your very best interests at heart."

Since there was no arguing with that as Mr. Timken had made a point of looking after her from almost the moment she'd been born, Camilla settled for sending him a smile, which he responded to with a wink before she returned her attention to Owen. "If we may return to your sister, I asked if you wanted me to smooth matters over with Luella and Stanley."

"That's the last thing I want, as does Luella, since she's decided she's never going to contemplate marriage again. With that said, though, she's also decided to prove Stanley wrong and turn herself into a refined young lady." Owen leaned forward. "Given your success with Adelaide, I'm convinced you're the one person who can help her achieve that goal."

"My success with Adelaide was completely different," Camilla argued. "For one, she's from a Knickerbocker family, whose position within the Four Hundred is firmly cemented."

"Not firmly enough if society was going to ostracize her."

Drawing in a deep breath in the hopes of dispelling the irritation that was once again plaguing her, she arched a brow his way. "Do you make it a habit to contradict everything everyone says, or is that simply something you reserve for me?"

"I wasn't contradicting you. Merely pointing out the obvious."

It was difficult to keep her jaw from clenching. "Be that as it may, I think you're missing the point."

"And I think you're missing that Adelaide was in the same situation Luella now finds herself in and that you were able to step in and fix everything."

"Adelaide didn't break anyone's nose."

"True, but she was responsible, according to Walter, for pressed duck going airborne during a dinner party, which I don't imagine many ladies—or any ladies—have ever managed to accomplish. Since you were still capable, even with pressed duck raining down on members of the upper crust, to get Adelaide reestablished within the Four Hundred, it stands to reason that you're more than capable of doing the same with Luella."

"Pressed duck that unexpectedly takes flight isn't the same as inflicting bodily harm on a man."

"Perhaps not, but I have to imagine if that flying duck smacked someone in the face, it inflicted a bit of damage as well."

It was rather telling when a distinct urge to throttle the man hit from out of nowhere, an urge she firmly shoved aside. "It's not the same scenario at all. Adelaide didn't purposely make the duck fly, whereas Luella deliberately punched Stanley in the nose. However, since we're clearly not going to agree with this, nor agree over the fact I know I'm unqualified to assist your sister, allow me to lend you some useful advice. Your best option to help your sister acquire an air of polish would be to enroll her in a ladies' finishing school because teaching young ladies how to become refined is what they do."

Owen shook his head. "I already sent her off to the Wellington Academy for Young Ladies, but unfortunately, Wellington didn't agree with Luella."

"Because...?" Camilla forced herself to ask.

"She was asked to leave three days after she arrived."

"She got expelled?"

"The headmistress never used that particular word."

"But...?" Camilla pressed when Owen didn't elaborate further.

"I'm not sure there's anything else to say since clearly Luella and finishing school didn't suit."

Camilla pressed a finger to her temple where an ache was beginning to form. "She didn't break someone else's nose, did she?"

"Of course not. As I mentioned, she doesn't go around assaulting people because she's not a violent person. She merely suffers from a rather tumultuous temper at times, something I'm sure you understand."

Camilla lifted her chin. "I have never assaulted anyone."

"Not even in your imagination?"

Unfortunately, that question had her coming up short because she'd just considered throttling the man, which could certainly be considered a form of assault.

Deciding there was no gracious way to address that particular inclination, Camilla settled for changing the subject instead. "If Luella didn't break someone's nose at Wellington Academy, why was she asked to leave?"

"I prefer to look at it as an amicable parting of the ways."

She arched a brow Owen's way.

"That's a very effective use of that brow, Miss Pierpont," he began after he swallowed a piece of cheese from the plate Mr. Timken had just handed him. "But since it's evident you're not going to move the conversation forward until I give you a few additional details, I'll simply say this—Luella was asked to leave because she rose magnificently to the defense of another student, earning the displeasure of the headmistress in the process."

"Exactly what manner of rising did she do?"

He hesitated for a second before he blew out a breath. "She may have challenged another student to a duel."

Camilla's mouth went a little slack, but before she could summon up a single response to a statement she certainly hadn't been expecting, Owen sat forward.

"From what Luella said about ‘the incident' as she refers to it, Miss Jane Something-or-Other was all but terrorizing poor Miss Bertha Hamilton, apparently so much so that Bertha was unable to eat—a circumstance Jane declared to the entire student body was a blessing in disguise because Bertha was apparently, at least in Jane's opinion, overly plump. My sister then decided that Miss Jane needed to experience some terror of her own, so she challenged her to a duel."

"Of course she did," Camilla muttered.

"To give Luella credit," Owen continued, as if Camilla hadn't taken to muttering, an odd circumstance for her to begin with, "she didn't suggest they use pistols for the duel, but rapiers, because Luella is an expert markswoman and she's quite capable of shooting a pistol out of an opponent's hand. She's less proficient with rapiers, although she does have some impressive skill with them, which is why she offered to duel with her left hand instead of her right, and before you ask, yes, she's right-handed."

"Should I assume you taught her how to use rapiers?"

"My grandmother did."

"What an interesting, ah, grandmother you must have" was all Camilla could think to say to that.

"That's one way to describe her, but to return to the duel..."

"Do not say Luella and Jane went through with it or, worse yet, that Luella maimed this Jane in the process."

"Luella wouldn't have seen the duel through, even if she'd been given the chance," Owen argued. "She simply wanted Jane to experience what it feels like to be placed in a humiliating situation."

"Was the decision made to stop the duel before these young ladies had the opportunity to meet on some desolate field?"

"Jane evidently went directly to the headmistress after Luella issued her challenge, and the headmistress showed up the next morning on the field where the duel was supposed to take place instead of Jane. Needless to say, Luella was sent packing within the hour."

"Of course she was since challenging someone to a duel isn't exactly the conventional attitude finishing schools are trying to impart to their students."

"I can't argue with that because I doubt embracing an unconventional attitude is mentioned anywhere in a finishing school's syllabus." Owen caught Camilla's eye. "Nevertheless, in case you're concerned Luella wouldn't be agreeable to adopting a conventional attitude, know that there's a specific ball—Mr. Henry Fulton's ball, to be exact—that she's determined to attend at the beginning of June. She's assured me that if I'll escort her there, and if she's able to figure out how to adopt a polished air, she'll not have another go at Stanley, and ... she'll try her best to behave in a ladylike fashion throughout the entire ball."

Camilla blinked. "Did you just say Luella needs to adopt a polished air by June—of this year?"

"I did."

"That's only a month away."

"True, but from what Walter told me, you're a very accomplished lady, so I'm sure you'd be more than able to whip Luella into shape by then."

"I'm not a miracle worker, and ... did you also say that Stanley's going to be in attendance?"

"I did, but did you miss the part where I said Luella promised to not have another go at him?"

"Given what is obviously a questionable temper, I'm not sure she'd be able to restrain herself if Stanley insults her again."

"But Stanley's mother, Ada Mae, will be there as well, and I know she won't allow Stanley anywhere near Luella because she seems to like her son's face."

As far as conversations went, this was the most unusual one Camilla could ever recall participating in. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before she blew out a breath. "While I truly feel for your sister's plight, Mr. Chesterfield, I'm sorry, but I cannot agree to step in and assist her, nor do I agree with her idea to attend this ball, especially not when the Murchendorfers will be in attendance."

"You're afraid Luella won't be able to contain her temper?"

"I'm more afraid that she'll walk into the ball and find herself immediately ostracized by the prominent families of Wheeling, no matter if she's acquired a refined air or not."

"Because?"

"Well, if I'm not mistaken, Stanley Murchendorfer is probably considered quite the catch in town. Believe me when I say that the ladies who have him in their sights will not be kind to the lady who punched him."

"They might not be openly hostile if you'd walk into the ball beside Luella."

"Which might be true if we were attending a ball in New York, but Wheeling is not New York. No one will have any idea who I am. And before you suggest we simply apprise them of my standing within the Four Hundred, that would be a serious breach of etiquette because it's considered quite beyond the pale to purposely apprise anyone of a particular social status."

"I think everyone would conclude on their own that you're the personification of what a proper lady should be and would certainly curtail any impulses they may want to make toward Luella if she were in your company."

"And while I thank you for that unexpected compliment," Camilla returned, "I'm sorry, Mr. Chesterfield, but no. I cannot in good conscience agree to sponsor Luella because, while I understand you believe having me by her side will shield her from unkind remarks, I'm not convinced that will be enough. I would not want to be responsible for your sister suffering additional slights."

Owen opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, Bernadette came sauntering into the room, her gaze immediately going to and then lingering on Owen, her lips curving into a smile a second later as she dipped into a curtsy.

"Beggin' your pardon for interrupting," Bernadette began, sending a flutter of lashes in Owen's direction before she turned to Mr. Timken. "The sheriff, along with a few of his deputies, have just arrived. I took the liberty of ushering them through the door since you were nowhere to be found. I'm sure you'll be pleased to learn that I told them to make themselves at home in the blue drawing room."

Mr. Timken frowned. "Why didn't you escort them into the receiving room, where we usually take visitors?"

"I'm a lady's maid, Mr. Timken. How would I know where to take visitors?" Bernadette countered before she shrugged. "Besides, these men aren't your everyday visitors. They're men of the law. I've always found it beneficial to go that extra mile where men of the law are concerned. Tends to make them less likely to cart anyone off to jail."

"They're not here to arrest anyone, Bernadette," Mr. Timken said. "They're here to take statements regarding the attempted abduction of Miss Camilla this morning."

"That may be," Bernadette shot back, "but Ember Starlight, an actress I dressed in the theater district, thought the lawmen who came backstage one night were just there to pay their respects to her. Before she had a chance to accept any flattery, though, she found herself hauled off to jail. Granted, she'd been helping herself to the contents of the cashbox when no one was looking, but still. It was quite the nasty surprise for her."

Mr. Timken frowned. "I'm not sure what your point is."

"My point is that just because you think you know why men of the law have come to call, there's always the chance you're mistaken."

"I'll keep that in mind" was all Mr. Timken said as his lips twitched ever so slightly before he turned and quit the room.

As Camilla watched him disappear, the thought sprang to mind that the composed world she normally resided in was nowhere to be found today—a thought that was reinforced when she returned her attention to Bernadette and found that, while she'd been watching Mr. Timken's retreat, her lady's maid had sidled closer to Owen and was plucking a few threads from Owen's tattered sleeve, which, unfortunately, left that sleeve completely parting from the seam and sliding to the floor.