“And this Mr. Melville—he suffered a great loss as well?”
“We haven’t see Mr. Melville since he dashed out of our old house on Park Avenue—leaving Father writhing about on the ground, no less.”
Edgar’s dark brows drew together. “You said your old house on Park Avenue. May I assume you were forced to move out of it due to lack of funds?”
“We were forced to sell all but one of our homes, including the cottage on Long Island.” She summoned up a smile when she realized Edgar had taken to looking downright horrified. “However, we were able to retain that little house my mother’s aunt left her years ago, the one that’s located on the less-than-fashionable side of Gramercy Park, so it’s not as if we were cast out into the streets.”
Lifting her gloved hand, Edgar placed a kiss on it. “Why didn’t you simply marry well in order to avoid having to sell all of your father’s property? From what I’ve been told, you spent quite a few seasons fending off one proposal after another.”
Ignoring the shivers that had started inching up her arm the moment his lips touched her gloved hand, Wilhelmina tilted her head. “Keeping an eye on me over the years, were you?”
Edgar smiled. “My mother, while remarkably stingy with news of you, did see fit to write to me about your many conquests.” He shook his head. “In all honesty, I think she passed those tidbits along as a way of discouraging me from continual wallowing over the years in regard to you and your rejection.”
“I’m surprised your mother didn’t write to tell you about my fall from grace,” Wilhelmina muttered, earning another smile from Edgar in the process.
“Given the extent of your fall, and the fact that you’ve apparently taken up a position that has you working as a social secretary, or so Miss Kasson told me, I’m surprised as well. Although . . .” Edgar tilted his head. “Now that I think about it, it’s not really so surprising that Mother never mentioned how dire your situation had turned.”
“It’s not?”
“Not when I take into account how upset she’s been with you over the years for not becoming her daughter-in-law—a relationship I believe she’d been looking forward to embracing. Because of that, I can certainly see her withholding information that might have sent me racing off to your rescue.”
Unexpected tears took that moment to cloud Wilhelmina’s vision. Dashing a hand over her eyes, she plopped down on the nearby bench and released a bit of a watery-sounding snort. “I wouldn’t have expected you to race to my rescue, Edgar, especially not given the abhorrent manner in which I’d treated you.”
As he sat beside her, Edgar captured a tear she’d missed with his finger. “We may have parted on less than amicable terms, Wilhelmina, but you were my dearest friend throughout my childhood, and a bit beyond. Because of that, you should have known that I was a person you could always count on.”
Wilhelmina struggled to hold additional tears at bay. “Did your mother ever mention anything to you about a gentleman by the name of Mr. Holland?”
“Of course she did, although she didn’t go into any particulars except to tell me he was one of your many admirers. But even if this Mr. Holland was a gentleman you cared deeply about, I would have still offered you my assistance if you had need of it.”
A single tear leaked out of her eye, one she hid by dipping her head and pretending an interest in a somewhat ordinary yellow flower. “I never cared deeply about Mr. Holland, Edgar. He was very diligent as he went about the whole business of courting me, but a part of me knew that something simply wasn’t right with him. He was always too well-dressed, too charming, and paid too much attention to me.”
“You took issue with him because he paid too much attention to you?”
“I did because it was a deliberate attention, although I didn’t realize that at the time. But then, when he ended his courtship of me because he needed to marry a woman of fortune, well . . . everything became crystal clear. In all honesty, I was somewhat relieved to have him out of my life, but then he went and started the most dreadful rumors about me, implying there was something wrong with me. That right there is what set society against me and saw me banished to the wallflower section.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Edgar began before he suddenly took to cracking his knuckles. “But tell me, where is Mr. Holland now?”
With her spirits lifting the moment she heard him crack his knuckles, Wilhelmina pulled her attention away from the yellow flower and smiled. “It’s very sweet of you to adopt such a protective attitude on my behalf, Edgar. But sad as I am to tell you this, I’m afraid Mr. Holland is no longer in the city. He’s sailing about the world on a yacht his new wife bought for him, a wife who had quite the impressive fortune, and a fortune she was apparently all too willing to share with Mr. Holland if he agreed to marry her.”