At Your Request (Apart from the Crowd 0.5)(2)


The lady flashed a grin Wilhelmina’s way. “Shocking, isn’t it, that I’d have the audacity to speak to you?” Tucking her dance card up the sleeve of a very fashionable dark velvet gown, the lady rose to her feet and dropped into the empty seat beside Wilhelmina a moment later. Without a by-your-leave, she then thrust a gloved hand Wilhelmina’s way. “I’m Miss Permilia Griswold.”

Having never been presented with another lady’s hand before, Wilhelmina hesitated for the briefest of moments before she took the offered hand, discovering as she did so that Miss Griswold possessed a remarkably firm grip. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Griswold, and as you already seem to know, I’m Miss Wilhelmina Radcliff. Although . . .”

Withdrawing her hand, Wilhelmina frowned. “If you’ve been out in society for what seems like ages—as you just mentioned—why haven’t we been formally introduced before?”

Miss Griswold waved that aside with a flick of a gloved wrist. “I don’t believe there needs to be much wondering about that, Miss Radcliff. I’ve never taken within society—not once since I made my debut at the ripe-old age of nineteen, which was . . . goodness . . . six years ago now.”

“You’ve been out for six years?”

“Indeed I have—a situation that my stepmother, the former Ida Webster, contemplates on an almost daily basis.” Miss Griswold leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Ida has now come to the conclusion that I’ve deliberately set society against me in an attempt to annoy her.”

Wilhelmina’s nose took to wrinkling. “And . . . have you?”

Tapping a finger against her chin, Miss Griswold seemed to consider the question quite thoroughly before she shrugged. “Hard to say. But getting back to the reason you and I have never been formally introduced. . . . I believe it has something to do with me being a wallflower for such an extended period of time. During that time, you, Miss Radcliff, were twirling around the dance floor, one of society’s darlings—at least until your . . .” Miss Griswold’s voice trailed to nothing as she suddenly began looking quite as if she’d rather be sitting anywhere except next to Wilhelmina at this particular moment.

Swallowing a laugh at the look of absolute horror on Miss Griswold’s face, Wilhelmina reached over and patted Miss Griswold’s arm, an action that surprised not only Miss Griswold, but Wilhelmina as well.

“There’s no need to feel remorse for speaking nothing less than the truth, Miss Griswold. I am perfectly aware that I was once a darling of society and am now . . . well, not. Curious as this may sound, I find it rather refreshing that you have no qualms about bringing up my unfortunate fall from the top rungs of the society ladder.” Wilhelmina gave a sad shake of her head. “My old friends never acknowledge that I once ruled the ballrooms, acting for all intents and purposes as if my descent from that lofty place might be contagious.”

Miss Griswold took to patting Wilhelmina’s arm. “I’m sure that must be hard for you, being slighted in such a despicable manner. Although, from the whispers I’ve heard, your fall from grace had more to do with Mr. Holland implying there was something lacking in your personality than the fact your father lost the family fortune.” She let out a small huff. “In my humble opinion, it was hardly fair of society to accept Mr. Holland’s explanation so readily—especially since he certainly wasn’t behaving in a manner one would expect from a true society gentleman.”

“Unfortunately, he was behaving exactly how a gentleman behaves when one needs to marry an heiress, yet discovers that the heiress he had his eye on is no longer flush with funds,” Wilhelmina began. “While his behavior was beyond reprehensible, I assumed society would quickly conclude why he was behaving in such a reprehensible manner, and would subsequently readjust their thinking toward me.”

“Society isn’t known to be reasonable about these matters,” Miss Griswold said. “And society ladies are always incredibly keen to see a rival lady suffer a fall from grace. That right there is probably why no one paid much mind to the idea Mr. Holland is a fortune hunter who clearly lacks any sense of honor.”

Wilhelmina’s enjoyment in the evening suddenly took to improving. “How refreshing to speak with a lady with such a straightforward manner. But enough about my dreary situation. Weren’t you inquiring about the identity of someone?”

“I was indeed.” Miss Griswold raised a gloved hand and gestured toward some guests gathered around a refreshment table. “I’m curious about the identity of that gentleman over there. The one standing by Miss Kasson.”

Wilhelmina leaned to the left and peered through the crowd. “Oh, that’s Mr. Asher Rutherford, owner of the new department store that recently opened off of Broadway.”

“Not Mr. Rutherford. I know who he is. I was speaking about the gentleman right next to him, the one with the charming smile.”

Rising to her feet in order to get a better view, Wilhelmina craned her neck and then lost the ability to breathe when she got her first good glimpse of the gentleman Miss Griswold was inquiring about.

Looking incredibly dashing as he bent his head toward the oh-so-fashionable Miss Kasson was none other than Mr. Edgar Wanamaker—her best friend from childhood, and . . . the very first gentleman to ever offer her a proposal of marriage.

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