At Your Request (Apart from the Crowd 0.5)(11)
“May I assume you decided that you would have grown bored with me as well?” The indignation bubbling up inside her was making it a little difficult to think.
He winced. “That didn’t come out nearly the way I intended, and I fear I may very well be making a muddle of this.”
“Too right you are.”
He sent her one of his most charming of smiles, the one he’d always brought out whenever he’d done something to annoy her in the past. The sight of it had her stomach feeling as if an entire flock of butterflies had begun fluttering through it, a feeling she didn’t appreciate in the least—especially considering how annoyed she was with the gentleman at the moment.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he continued, although Wilhelmina wasn’t exactly certain what they’d gotten out of the way, “I’d like to offer you a sincere apology for the distress I caused you all those years ago.”
She waved his apology aside. “You’ve already apologized, Edgar. And again, I was more at fault than you that night.”
“I ruined what should have been one of your most memorable nights.”
“You didn’t ruin anything.”
“You weren’t upset that I called you a brat and told you that you’d be sorry for years and years to come that I’d never again be in your life?”
“Well, when you remind of those particular memories, yes, I was upset with you, but . . .” She smiled. “After you stormed away from my father’s house, there were quite a few gentlemen who seemed very keen to try and cheer me up.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re still a bit of a brat, aren’t you.”
Getting up from the bench, she sent him a grin before she began wandering down one of the aisles, not surprised when he joined her. Stopping beside an unusual purple flower, she leaned forward to give it a sniff. “While I freely admit that I once fit the description of a brat to perfection, I’m afraid I have far too many responsibilities these days to indulge myself with that particular attitude.”
Edgar reached out and traced a finger down the curve of her cheek, his touch lodging the breath in her throat. “I’ve heard from my mother that your father does not seem to be well these days. In fact, according to her, he’s not seen out and about in the city at all.”
Resisting the urge to sigh when he stopped touching her cheek, Wilhelmina took hold of the arm Edgar offered her and started down the path. “He never leaves the house,” she admitted. “And what I’m about to tell you is not well-known information. You see, when Father learned he’d lost the majority of his fortune in a shipping deal gone bad two years ago, he became embroiled in an argument with Mr. Jonathon Melville, the man he’d trusted to see the deal through. While Father was engaged in that heated argument, he, unfortunately, suffered an apoplectic fit. He lost his ability to speak for three months, and while he has made some improvements recovering his speech and mobility, he’s turned morose over losing his fortune, and quite honestly, I believe he’s given up all interest in living.”
Edgar pulled her to a stop. “Your father lost everything?”
Wilhelmina nodded. “I’m afraid he did, or almost everything. He’d overextended himself you see, or so the bankers have told me, to cover the shipping investment. When the entire fleet of ships went down while crossing the ocean, most of my father’s money went down with them.”
“The entire fleet went down?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“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.”