At Your Request (Apart from the Crowd 0.5)

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about Mr. Flowerdew, nor about Temperance, for that matter,” Permilia began. “I’ve heard the rumors that she’s a poor relation, taken in by her cousin after her parents died a few years back. I’ve also heard that the Flowerdew family was fortunate in that they were vouched for by a very respected New York Knickerbocker matron who saw them accepted into New York society two years ago without much fuss.”

She pursed her lips. “It’s been clear to me for some time now that the Flowerdews place little value on Temperance. Her sole purpose in attending society events seems to revolve around her being at the ready if Wayne Flowerdew’s daughter—the very fashionable, yet quite nasty, Miss Clementine Flowerdew—needs assistance with anything. Why, I’ve seen her called away from the wallflower section numerous times over the past two years in order to sew a button back on Clementine’s gown, search out glue to reattach a heel that had come off Clementine’s dainty shoe, and once . . . I watched Temperance hold a parasol over Clementine’s head in order to keep the sun away from her cousin’s pale complexion as they strolled around Central Park.”

Gertrude gave a shake of her head. “And here I thought I had a difficult time of it being a paid companion to Mrs. Davenport, who isn’t always pleasant, but at least there’s only one of her, and—”

Whatever else Gertrude had been about to say got lost when there was a loud shriek and then a thud. A second later, one of the pillars that had been brought in to lend the gymnasium an ancient-Roman feel, and one that could be seen from their hiding place since it reached almost to the ceiling, began to teeter.

Not hesitating, Permilia moved into motion and burst through the foliage she’d been hiding behind. Her gaze took in the sight of Temperance lying on the floor, obviously a victim of an overly long hem, before she switched her attention to the pillar Temperance had apparently bounced against. To her horror, that pillar no longer simply teetered but began to topple, sending the plants on top of it cascading to the ground.

Dashing forward, she put her shoulder against it, praying that would be enough to set it to rights again.

To her dismay, the pillar turned out to be far heavier than she’d anticipated. As her feet began to slip out from underneath her, she called a warning to the guests closest to her, right before she completely lost her balance and slid to the floor. Lifting an arm to cover her face, she squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for the pain that was certainly soon to come.





Chapter

Three




Pausing in the midst of a conversation he was enjoying with some delightful young ladies, all of whom had obtained their lady-in-waiting costumes from his store, Rutherford & Company, Mr. Asher Rutherford blinked as what could only be described as a catastrophe-in-the-making began to unfold right before his eyes.

A decorative pillar was teetering in a most concerning manner, the teetering sending some of the potted plants adorning the top of it tumbling to the ground.

As the first plant hit the marble floor, guests scattered every which way, but amidst all the scattering, a lady dressed in a shimmering gown of white suddenly darted out from behind a clump of ferns. To his disbelief, she charged right up to the pillar that was now tilting, not teetering, and placed a slim shoulder against it, one that certainly wasn’t strong enough to stop the disaster that was about to happen.

When her feet began sliding against the polished floor of the gymnasium, he immediately found the incentive to move, rushing forward and reaching the pillar right as the lady lost her balance. Meeting the falling pillar with a shoulder of his own, but one that was certainly broader than the lady’s, he shoved with all his might, sending the pillar on a different course, one that didn’t have it grinding anyone into the ground. When it hit the floor, it broke into numerous pieces, the sounds of the pieces tinkling across the marble floor overly loud in a room that had grown remarkably quiet.

Silence settled over the gymnasium as a few leaves from the potted plants drifted through the air, until a lady standing near him—one who was sporting a most unusual hairstyle and wearing, curiously enough, what appeared to be chicken feathers attached to a wide swath of her costume—began clapping enthusiastically as she beamed a bright smile his way, her actions having the entire room bursting into applause.

Being a gentleman who’d never been uncomfortable with attention, Asher smiled and presented the room with a bow. As the applause began to fade away, he directed his attention to the rash young lady who’d certainly had good intentions but had behaved in a manner at distinct odds with her innate feminine nature. That young lady was still lying on the ground, her face almost entirely hidden beneath a gloved hand.

Leaning toward her, he took in the sight of well-coifed red hair that was a most unusual shade, given that it was mixed with a good deal of gold, and . . . it was a shade he’d only seen on one lady before.

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