In Good Company (21 page)

Dorothy fluttered innocent lashes her way before she looked over Millie’s shoulder and smiled. “Would you look at that—impeccable timing, if I do say so myself.”

Turning her head, Millie discovered the children and Fletcher walking across the terrace.

“I just bid Everett and Caroline a fond farewell for the day,” Fletcher said as he came to a stop in front of Dorothy. He looked down and smiled at Thaddeus, who was holding his hand and looking rather grumpy. “Caroline, I hate to admit, annoyed Thaddeus no small amount by telling him—”

“That I have to get out of my frocks,” Thaddeus interrupted as he let go of Fletcher’s hand and stomped his way over to Millie. “She said you were going to make me do that, even if I don’t want to.”

“I’m not going to
make
you do anything, darling,” Millie said. “If you want to continue wearing those frocks your sister made for you, so be it.”

“Elizabeth tried really hard to make me pants,” Thaddeus said. “But when she couldn’t figure out how to sew them up properly, she made me dresses, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings by not wearing them.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Millie said.

“May I offer the perfect solution to the pants-versus-frocks dilemma?”

Turning, Millie discovered Mr. Macon standing on the terrace, his arms filled with quite a bit of brown material.

“I’m sure you’ll be pleased to learn, Miss Longfellow, that I’ve replaced these lovely drapes that were hanging in your room with some cheery yellow ones. And, since I now have in my hands yards and yards of material, and we certainly don’t want it to go to waste, may I suggest that someone—as in you, Miss Longfellow—teach Miss Elizabeth how to make . . . pants?”

Eyeing the material in Mr. Macon’s hands, Millie grinned. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Mr. Macon, and it will be the perfect solution to not only the children’s dilemma regarding clothing, but mine as well.”

10

A
s Mr. Ward McAllister droned on and on about the many different ways one could fold a linen napkin, Everett stretched his legs out on the checkered blanket Caroline had brought for them to eat their picnic lunch on. Try as he might to focus, he found his thoughts drifting away from the project at hand.

Regrettably, the main thought his mind wanted to dwell on was that something was dreadfully wrong with him.

He normally enjoyed spending the summer in the company of his good friends, but this year, something was different. Something had changed.

Friends he’d known for years were no longer very entertaining, and Caroline . . . Well, she was becoming more difficult by the day.

That she’d told everyone he’d been indisposed the night before annoyed him no small amount. He’d spent half his time at the picnic fending off questions regarding his indisposed condition, even though he was fairly certain everyone knew he hadn’t attended the ball the night before because he and Caroline had
not been in accord. His friends, people he’d always believed were the very best company, had now taken to badgering him endlessly about the matter.

Quite frankly, even though he was less than interested in learning how to fold a proper napkin, he’d been relieved when Ward had gathered everyone together for this particular lesson.

“And, if everyone will now pick up the napkins that are square, not rectangular, we’ll move on to a delightful knot I learned about just last week,” Ward said.

Caroline thrust a square piece of linen into his hand, leaving Everett with no choice but to accept it. Trying his best to follow Ward’s instructions, he looked around and discovered that the rest of Ward’s guests seemed to be having a marvelous time of it. They were laughing and chatting away as they tried to fold their napkins, a task that Everett, unfortunately, was finding very dull indeed.

If he were honest with himself, the most fun he’d had in a very long time had been when he’d recently spent time with the children and . . . with Millie.

It wasn’t as if they’d done anything extraordinary, although the fountain incident had certainly been one of the most unusual and amusing ways he’d ever spent an afternoon. What he’d enjoyed most of all, though, had been getting to know the children once again, which was why he kept considering the unusual idea that it had actually been a fortunate day when he’d run into, or rather run over, Miss Millie Longfellow.

She had, in a remarkably short period of time, gotten the children in hand, begun to help him form a relationship with those children, and had somehow been able to win his mother over in the span of less than—

“You’re not knotting your napkin.”

Pushing all thoughts of Millie straight out of his mind, especially since he had the sneaking suspicion she really shouldn’t be there in the first place, Everett found Caroline frowning back at him. Handing her his square of linen, he smiled.

“I’m afraid I just don’t have a talent for matters of a domestic nature, my dear.” He nodded to her napkin. “But since you apparently do, we should consider ourselves fortunate that we’ll never have our guests sit down to a table with improperly folded napkins on it.”

Looking somewhat appeased, Caroline began folding the napkin he’d given her. “Speaking of guests, I was recently given the name of a wonderful social secretary here in Newport whom I’ve already taken the liberty of contacting. That woman sent me a note just this morning telling me that she can fit creating and addressing our invitations into her schedule. And because I promised to pay her extra, she’ll be done with them by tomorrow morning—which means we can have them hand delivered to all of the people on our guest list by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Forgive me, Caroline, but I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I thought we’d agreed to host our ball toward the end of August, which would mean we certainly shouldn’t need to get our invitations out so soon.”

“I knew you weren’t listening when we were gathered on Dudley’s blanket and I was talking about the wonderful news Mr. McAllister had imparted to me.”

“I wasn’t with you on Dudley’s blanket.”

Caroline blinked. “Oh, well, then I apologize for snapping at you, but do try to do something about that frown on your face. I think Mr. McAllister is done with his lesson, so . . . I’ll let him tell you the good news.” She held out her hand, and after Everett helped her to her feet, he immediately found himself being
steered around other picnic guests as Caroline marched them toward Mr. McAllister, who was now leaning against a tree.

As they approached Ward, Caroline began smiling a very lovely smile, even as Everett found it somewhat difficult to suppress a laugh when he realized Ward had taken to posing. One of the gentleman’s hands was placed just so in the pocket of his waistcoat, while the other was positioned on his hip, and there was a small trace of a smile on the older man’s face, a smile that held more than a hint of superiority.

“That was an interesting lesson on napkin folding, Ward,” Everett said, earning a regal nodding of the head from Ward in return. “Where do you learn these things?”

Ward pushed away from the tree. “Books are obviously a wonderful source, but, to be perfectly honest, I spend a great deal of time stalking servants at different houses. They’re founts of information—although . . . not everyone has the stomach to converse with domestics.”

A twinge of irritation snuck under Everett’s skin, but before he could respond, Caroline let out a small laugh.

“I know I certainly don’t have the stomach you obviously do, Mr. McAllister. But . . .” She sent another lovely smile Ward’s way. “I have yet to tell Everett the good news and thought that, just perhaps, you’d enjoy telling him.”

Ward released a chuckle and sent Everett an approving sort of nod. “You’ve done well for yourself there, dear boy, earning Miss Dixon’s great esteem. But . . . as for what she’s referring to, well, I’m sure you’ll be delighted to learn that there’s an opening in the social schedule just two weeks from now.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Kane had to cancel their ball due to a death in the family,” Caroline added in a rather breathy sort of voice, one that suggested she was having a difficult time containing her excitement. “And because of that, society will be looking for
a replacement event, and that means they will not even expect the customary three-week notice.”

“That’s unfortunate about the Kane family suffering a death,” was the first thing Everett could think of to say.

Caroline wrinkled her nose. “Well . . . yes, I suppose that was unfortunate for the Kane family, but it’s
fortunate
for us, since Mr. McAllister, who created the guest list for the Kane ball, has now given that special list to . . . me.”

She turned back to Mr. McAllister. “I simply cannot thank you enough for parting with that list, Mr. McAllister. I’m convinced the ball Everett and I intend to hold will be considered one of the smashing successes of the summer season by all two hundred of the people we’re now going to invite.”

“Do you think two hundred people will fit in the ballroom at Seaview, Caroline?” Everett asked.

“Everyone knows that in order for a ball to be considered successful, it needs to be a true crush, so two hundred guests will be absolutely perfect. We might need to squeeze in the orchestra a bit, but I’m sure those musicians are used to working in crowded conditions.”

Ward smiled in Caroline’s direction. “Indeed they are, but speaking of the hired help, do be certain to send a note off immediately to the French chef I recommended, Monsieur Roquet. You’ll need to let him know that you’re a friend of mine, but if he is less than cooperative, you send
me
a note straightaway. These French people can be a bit . . . difficult, but they normally cooperate when faced with my displeasure.” He chuckled. “There are advantages, my dear Miss Dixon, to counting Ward McAllister as one of your friends.”

Caroline smiled a very satisfied smile. “I’ll pen him a letter as soon as I return home, as well as send for Miss Pickenpaugh so she can get Seaview ready with all the decorations and so
forth.” She inclined her head at Mr. McAllister. “We’ll leave you to speak with your other guests, since I know you don’t want to neglect them.” She sent Everett an expectant look.

Clearly his throat, Everett thanked Ward as profusely as he was able, even though the man’s interference was going to cause Everett no small amount of trouble, as well as money, in the end. After speaking all the words of thanks he could possibly muster up, he took hold of Caroline’s arm and led her away, steering her over to a tree that was quite a distance away from their fellow guests, a tree that would afford the two of them a bit of privacy.

“This has just been the most delightful of afternoons,” Caroline said before he could get so much as a single word out of his mouth. “Why, our ball really
will
be considered the ball of the summer season, especially since I hinted to Mr. McAllister that it’ll end with a very
special
 . . . event.”

A surge of panic hit from out of nowhere, stealing the breath straight from him.

Caroline’s idea of a special event could only mean she expected him to propose to her at the end of the ball. While it
was
true that they’d always planned to become engaged at some point . . . he hadn’t been planning on doing that proposing in the next two weeks.

“Do be sure to mention the change of date to your mother,” Caroline continued, apparently unaware of the fact he was in the midst of an anxiety spell. “I wouldn’t want her to be taken by surprise when Miss Pickenpaugh shows up at your house and begins rearranging the furnishings.”

Bending over, Everett forced himself to take a deep breath, and when he decided he was not going to embarrass himself by fainting dead away, he straightened. “You do realize that my mother will expect to help with the planning of this ball, don’t you?”

“Miss Pickenpaugh does not appreciate help, which is why she’s in such high demand. We pay her money, she arranges everything, and that’s how it’s done.” Caroline wagged a finger practically under his nose. “You’ll need to explain that to your mother and make sure she understands that she’s not to interfere. The last thing we want to do is have Miss Pickenpaugh take offense at something because she’ll never agree to organize a ball for us again.”

“I’ll try my best,” Everett finally said.

“Wonderful.” Caroline patted his arm, but her patting stopped when she looked past him and frowned. “It seems to me that Dudley is trying to get our attention . . . but . . . I wonder why all Mr. McAllister’s guests are currently smiling our way?”