Chapter 7

Seven

"I find it rather telling, Mr. Chesterfield, that during the many hours we've spent together in your Pullman car—those hours increasing after we encountered mechanical problems—you've been unable to provide me with much information regarding your sister that will actually assist me with forming a strategy to help her turn refined, which suggests you might not know your sister very well at all."

Owen pulled his attention away from the scenery passing outside the window and settled it on Camilla, who was currently in the process of tapping her pencil against the notepad she'd been perusing, a faint hint of what seemed to be exasperation in her eyes.

The exasperation left him smiling, which was odd since he usually didn't find exasperating women in general to be amusing.

"Luella and I share a close relationship, and I've told you a lot about her," he argued.

"Telling me that Luella enjoys fishing is hardly helpful since I doubt the prominent ladies of Wheeling spend their time engaged in fishing expeditions instead of sitting down to tea."

"Luella enjoys tea and something to prove I know her well is this—dandelion tea is her favorite."

A small crease formed between Camilla's brows as she scribbled something into her notepad. "I've never heard of dandelion tea."

"Never?"

"I'm afraid not."

"It's a staple in West Virginia, but it might be one of those acquired-taste things I hear bandied about, such as when associates of mine encourage me to eat caviar, which I haven't found to my liking, nor do I think continuing to eat it will change my mind about that. It's rather ... fishy."

"Considering caviar is fish eggs, it's supposed to be fishy, but caviar aside, tell me this, does your sister put cream or milk in her dandelion tea?"

"Why would anyone do that, or, better yet, why do you want to know?"

"Many ladies add cream or milk to their tea to make it more substantial, and I need to know because if Luella adds one of those to her tea, I have to make certain she knows the proper way to stir it."

Owen frowned. "There's a proper way to stir?"

"When sitting down with other ladies to a proper tea, certainly."

"And when you're by yourself?"

"It's been my experience that if proper manners are adhered to at all times, they become second nature. That's why ladies should be accustomed to only using a teaspoon when stirring milk, cream, or sugar into their tea, then stir twice, and only twice, before tapping the spoon gently once against the rim of the cup before placing it on the saucer, and never on the table."

"It's a good thing Luella takes her dandelion tea plain then, because I don't think she'd be agreeable to learning that type of nonsense."

The exasperation in Camilla's eyes turned to downright annoyance. "Learning proper table manners is never nonsense because little things like stirring tea properly is something others take note of. If Luella doesn't bother to learn some basic rules when it comes to sitting down to tea, she won't achieve her goal of becoming refined."

"But what happens if you haven't given your tea a good enough stir and everything isn't blended well together?"

"Then you simply have to suffer through a cup of tea that isn't to your liking."

"What's the point of having tea, then?"

"Sitting down to tea with ladies is never about drinking tea. It's all about the art of how you drink it."

"Huh." Owen gave his jaw a rub. "Seems a little ridiculous that so much time needs to be devoted to stirring tea, but as Luella drinks her dandelion tea plain, we won't have to worry about her balking at a stirring lesson."

"But will she balk over dance instructions, time spent assessing her proficiency with musical instruments, and styling her to look the part of a lady of refinement?"

"I already told you that I don't think Luella's proficient with any musical instruments because I distinctly remember, when Mother insisted she take piano lessons, that her lessons didn't last long because Luella's playing always sent Goldie, the dog that reminds me of you, howling."

"It might be for the best if you would refrain from telling me that I apparently resemble your dog."

"Goldie's no longer with us, bless her heart, but I didn't say you resembled her. I just said your hair is the same color her fur was, and to be clear, she had quite the glorious coat of fur."

Camilla began tapping her pencil against her notepad again. "Why do I get the distinct impression, given your smile, that you think you just complimented me?"

"Because I did, and before you explain why I didn't, I would think a lady would find it flattering anytime a gentleman directed the word glorious her way."

"Unless it's paired with the word fur , and not the kind you wear," Camilla said before she returned to her notepad, wrote something down on it, then lifted her head. "I've made a note that it's not an option to ever suggest Luella sit down in front of an audience to play the piano since we certainly don't want to set any dogs to howling. With musical instruments probably out of the picture, can you think of any talents she possesses that I could use to our advantage?"

"She's really good with a pistol."

"And I'll be sure to keep that in mind if we happen to get invitations to a shooting party delivered to us once we get to Wheeling, although I'm not going to hold my breath waiting for one of those." She squared her shoulders. "What about needlepoint?"

"What about it?"

He wasn't certain, but he thought Camilla might have released a bit of a snort before she settled a somewhat narrowed eye on him. "Have you ever seen any embroidered pillows lying about your house?"

"My mother has them all over our house on Wheeling Island."

"And was your sister responsible for embroidering them?"

"I'm going to say ... probably not?"

"Wonderful," Camilla muttered before she bent over her notepad again and wrote something else down. "Moving on to dancing."

He smiled. "I know for a fact Luella's had dancing instructors over the years, although ... she's never been to a ball, but she does enjoy doing reels at family gatherings, and I believe she also enjoys square dancing."

"What about waltzing?"

Owen thought about that for a moment before he smiled. "I think she might know how to waltz because after the ballroom was completed a few months back in our country house, she said something about it being a wonderful space to waltz across."

"You have a ballroom at your country house?"

"Mother wanted to build a home where she could entertain on a grand scale."

Camilla frowned. "Your mother must have been incredibly concerned over your father's health to have abandoned a house she evidently would have adored but didn't have time to enjoy before it was completed."

"I suppose she was, but I imagine she'll return at some point, although I hope she doesn't return too soon because I've yet to hire anyone to decorate or furnish the house."

Camilla set aside her notepad. "Didn't you say you were going to have me stay at your country house—one that's apparently unfurnished?"

"I did, and the reason behind having you stay there is because the Murchendorfers live directly next to our house on the island. Since Luella has refused to go back there after her encounter with Stanley, there's no choice but to have you stay at the country house."

"Does Luella stay there by herself?"

"She stays at our grandmother's cabin, where I didn't consider having you stay because my grandmother lives there."

"Does she not like to entertain guests?"

"She's more partial to family, and besides that, she might be a little ... difficult."

"So, if I'm understanding you correctly, I'll be staying at the country house with Mr. Timken, Lottie, and Bernadette, and Luella will join me there for lessons?"

Owen shook his head. "That would give Luella far too many opportunities to avoid scheduled lessons, so I'm going to entice her to stay at the country house by telling her I need her to guard you when I, or the men I've already had my manager, Edward Stevens, hire to guard you, aren't available." He smiled. "Luella won't balk at that because she adores situations where weapons might come into play."

"She does sound delightful," Camilla murmured.

"She's actually more delightful than she sounds, but if you're worried about living in an unfurnished home, no need to fret. When I sent that telegram to Edward, I also asked him to pick up a few basics for the house, such as beds and perhaps a few chairs."

"A table probably wouldn't be remiss."

Owen winced. "I didn't think about a table."

"And dishes."

"Dishes might be a good idea as well."

"Eating is something I must insist upon doing every now and again during my stay, and besides that, it'll be imperative that I have Luella sit down with a formal setting and teach her how to negotiate her way through a twelve-course meal."

Owen frowned. "Do you often sit down to twelve-course meals, because you certainly don't possess the type of figure one would expect a woman who eats that much to possess."

"Do you always say whatever pops to mind?"

"Should I take that to mean I've just said something you disapprove of yet again?"

"Gentlemen should never remark on a lady's figure."

"Not even to compliment it, which I just did to yours if you missed that?"

"Telling me you're surprised I'm not larger than I am is not what I would consider a compliment. And yes, I do sit down to twelve-course meals often, although ladies only sample the courses, never eat all of the food that's set before them."

"Duly noted, as was the fact you need a table and some dishes."

"Along with silverware."

"Because eating with your fingers is probably frowned upon?"

Camilla began rubbing her temple. "Do not tell me you make it a habit to eat with your fingers, or that your sister does that as well."

He grinned. "We're not barbarians, Miss Pierpont. In fact, we know the basics when it comes to table etiquette because my mother made certain of that. I just wanted to see how you'd react if I suggested we might not use silverware often."

"Why would you want to see that?"

"Because you keep claiming you're not prickly, and I seem to derive a great deal of satisfaction from proving you are."

"Anyone would get prickly when faced with the idea that silverware is optional."

"I've added silverware to the mental list of the additional necessities you're going to need."

"Wonderful, but know that if I think of additional items your country house needs, I can always take Luella with me to the shops. We could also begin looking at some furnishings for your home because decorating a home is something that all ladies of refinement are expected to know how to do."

"Luella's never lent me the impression she's interested in decorating."

"From what I've been able to gather, she hasn't lent you much information at all over the past few years, but tell me this—you said Luella will be staying with me at the country house, but will you be staying there as well?"

"Since it would be impossible to provide you with that protection I promised if I were on Wheeling Island and you weren't, I will, although I'll have to travel to my factory on a daily basis, but I'll be home before dark." He smiled. "Luella, who again, is an expert with a pistol, will be in charge of keeping you safe, as will those men Edward hired."

"You'll have to tell me how much you're paying those men so I can reimburse you for their wages."

Owen stretched out his legs, earning a growl from El Cid, who'd been napping on his lap. After giving the cat a scratch, Owen shook his head. "I don't think I have to do any such thing."

"Why not?"

He took a second to consider the question before he caught Camilla's eye. "Do you remember how offended you got after I told you that you reminded me of Goldie?"

"That would be difficult to forget, but I thought we'd agreed to never discuss Goldie again."

"We did, and I won't mention her again after this, but it seems relevant because you, Miss Pierpont, have just offended me quite like I offended you."

"I don't recall comparing you to my dog."

Owen shot a glance at Gladys, who was snoozing on the floor beside Camilla. "I would hope not, since Gladys and I don't resemble each other in the least."

Her lips twitched ever so slightly. "I suppose she is rather fluffier than you, but I'm afraid I have no idea where this conversation is going."

"It's going in the offended direction because I'm rather put out that you would even think I'd consider taking money from you to keep you safe."

"I have a lot of money."

"So do I, but even if I didn't, as a man, it would be, as I think you would say, quite beyond the pale for me to take money from a lady. It's just not something a real man should ever do."

For the briefest of seconds, Camilla merely gazed back at him, something interesting flickering through her eyes, until she smiled, and not just any smile, but a genuine one.

All the air seemed to get sucked out of the Pullman car because, while he hadn't neglected to notice that Miss Camilla Pierpont was a beautiful woman, since he was a man, after all, when she smiled like the way she currently was, she was beyond beautiful and was also the most captivating lady he'd ever met, but one who, unfortunately, was far above the reach of a man like him.