At Your Request (Apart from the Crowd 0.5)(22)



“Which speaks volumes about Mr. Wanamaker’s character.” Reaching the bench, Permilia took a seat, Wilhelmina joining her a moment later. Before either one of them could begin getting their skates on over their buttoned boots, though, two young men from Rutherford & Company appeared out of nowhere and began assisting them.

“Perhaps Mr. Rutherford does know a thing or two about what he’s doing after all,” Permilia said as the two young men sent them nods and hurried away to help other ladies with their skates.

Rising from the bench, Wilhelmina took the arm Permilia offered her, and together the two ladies made their way through the snow and onto the ice.

Smiling as ladies and gentlemen glided past them with cheeks rosy from the cold air, Wilhelmina moved into motion, keeping to the very edge of the lake until she found her balance. Increasing her speed as her confidence improved, she linked her arm with Permilia, and with their glides matching, they moved toward the center of the lake. Enjoying the breeze flowing over her, she searched the crowd, slowing to an immediate stop when a curious sight met her eyes.

Sitting on the ice in the very middle of the lake was none other than Edgar, his legs stretched out in front of him while a large gentleman Wilhelmina assumed was the mysterious Mr. Sinclair lounged on the ice next to him.

Shaking her head, she tugged Permilia in Edgar’s direction, frowning when Permilia brought them to a stop a mere second later and unlinked their arms.

“It may be for the best for you to do this on your own,” Permilia said.

“You don’t want to see how this ends?”

Biting her lip, Permilia shook her head. “I don’t have the gift of conversing well with gentlemen I don’t know, and . . . I don’t want to make this situation any more difficult for you than it already is.”

“Last night you had no difficulty conversing with Edgar, whom I know for fact you’d never met before, and . . . you certainly had no difficulty conversing with poor Mr. Rutherford.”

Frowning, Permilia wrinkled her nose. “That is a most excellent point. I suppose I didn’t have much difficulty speaking with your Mr. Wanamaker last night because I was at first tasked with the mission of keeping you out of sight, which must have distracted me from my usual discomfort.”

“What about Mr. Rutherford, then?”

Permilia tilted her head. “I have no idea why I can speak so easily, or rather argue so easily, with him, but . . . now is hardly the moment for us to ponder that matter. You have a gentleman intent on marriage to deal with, so . . . off you go.” With that, Permilia sent Wilhelmina a grin and glided away.

Squaring her shoulders after Permilia disappeared into the crowd, Wilhelmina began skating in Edgar’s direction. Coming to a stop a few feet away from him, she smiled when he looked up. That smile, unfortunately, turned to a wince a mere second later, when he tried to get to his feet and immediately took to flailing about. Before she could do more than blink, he was sprawled facedown on the ice.

Skating up next to him, she bent over. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine—well, except for my bruised pride,” he said, rolling over before he struggled to a sitting position. “One would think that since I’m testing skates with two blades, I’d have an easier time of staying upright. But . . . I’m afraid that has not been the case.” He caught her eye again and smiled. “But enough about that. I’m delighted you showed up at the park today, although I was planning on seeking you out at your house if you didn’t arrive here soon.” He nodded to the gentleman who’d risen to his feet and was now smiling Wilhelmina’s way as well. “I’d like you to meet a new friend of mine, Mr. Harrison Sinclair. Mr. Sinclair, this is my very good friend, Miss Wilhelmina Radcliff.”

Taking her gloved hand in his, Mr. Sinclair raised it to his lips in a practiced move and kissed it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Radcliff.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Sinclair.”

“Mr. Sinclair has just disclosed some information that I believe you’re going to find quite interesting, Wilhelmina.” Edgar struggled to get to his feet, not hesitating for even a second when Mr. Sinclair offered him a hand and pulled him upright. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” Mr. Sinclair returned before he nodded to Wilhelmina. “And, because I can see the curiosity in your eyes, allow me to disclose that the information Edgar just mentioned pertains to your father and the financial setback he suffered.”

Wilhelmina frowned. “I’m not certain losing the majority of the family fortune on a risky investment can actually be considered a financial setback, Mr. Sinclair. Complete and utter disaster springs to mind, but setback . . . I don’t think that term sufficiently describes what happened.”

Mr. Sinclair inclined his head. “That’s a fair point, Miss Radcliff, and do know that I’m sorry for the trials your family has obviously suffered. I understand the reason for the loss of your family fortune was due to an entire fleet of ships going down as they were crossing the Atlantic Ocean.”

“That is exactly what happened, Mr. Sinclair. A circumstance that Mr. Melville, my father’s partner in this particular venture, claimed was a most unusual happenstance, one that is rarely, if ever, seen.”

“I would have to agree with this Mr. Melville on that, because entire fleets rarely go down.” Mr. Sinclair shook his head. “A ship might capsize due to a wave, or take on water that has it sinking, but it’s a rare occurrence for all the ships in a fleet to sink. One ship usually manages to float its way back into port at some point in time, even if it has sustained heavy damages.”

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