Newport Summer (8 page)

She hastily reworded her thoughts. The evening would
be exciting not simply because Gannon was there but because of the challenge the evening posed on his behalf.
She must keep their relationship in perspective and not
lose sight of their mutual goals. Although they needed
each other, that didn’t necessarily make them bosom
beaus. Gannon was still potentially dangerous to her.
She’d do best to remember that she’d concocted this plan
to keep her friends close and her enemies closer. Unfortunately for Gannon, he fit into both categories.

Gannon was already there when the St. Clairs arrived.
It appeared he was just minutes ahead of them, greeting
Caroline with his excellent manners and presenting her
with a small, exquisitely wrapped box, which she accepted as her due before gesturing to Violet. “Violet darling, we must give Camberly a party-something English
to remind him of home,” she said. “Mr. McAllister can draw up the lists and the plans and consult the schedule for sometime in a couple of weeks. I think a picnic
shouldn’t be too hard to manage”

“A fabulous idea,” Violet concurred, admirably hiding the elation Audrey knew must bubble beneath the
surface of her cool demeanor.

“Audrey, be a dear and introduce Camberly around,”
Caroline suggested in her imperious tone.

Audrey didn’t miss the calculation. Caroline and her
mother had already decided the earl was to be hers. It
sent a tremor of fear through her to know how quickly
her fate had been decided and managed by the two
of them. She wasn’t the first girl to have her future so
adroitly arranged, but she had a plan. It stiffened her resolve to know that only her plan stood between Vienna
and a marriage in which her personal feelings were of
no consideration.

“May I say that you look lovely this evening?” Gannon asked as she moved them across the opulent drawing room to a cluster of guests.

“You may. Remember, you must pretend to court me.
Showing a little liking would not be amiss. What was in
the present you gave Mrs. Astor?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Jealous, are you?”

“No. Merely curious.”

Gannon leaned close to her ear. “It’s a Limoges trifle
box. Something practical to keep a diamond brooch in.”

“Very good. You’ve done your homework,” Audrey complimented. Anyone who knew Caroline Astor knew
she adored her diamonds; they were her signature jewel,
just as black was her signature evening gown.

Audrey made the introductions and then stepped back
from the conversation to let Gannon take over. By the
time dinner was announced, Gannon had quickly won
the confidence of the little group. Over the extensive dinner, Audrey watched silently as Gannon proved himself
worthy of inclusion among the elite assembled.

“How do you find America?” Caroline Astor queried
from her place at the head of the table, her husband absent as usual, spending his week in New York stoking
the family fortunes.

“I find it a most excellent place,” Gannon said to the
table at large, since Mrs. Astor’s question had silenced
the rest of the conversations. “I am intrigued by all the
business and industry, particularly the railroads. I think
there is much to learn here.”

“Hear, hear!” Wilson St. Clair applauded from his
end of the table. “A man who appreciates vision is always welcome”

There was a chorus of “hear, hear” to follow Wilson’s
pronouncement. Audrey smiled at Gannon from across
the table. The bait had been set. She would bet that after
dinner, over port and cigars, Gannon would be introduced
to his first business opportunities. The plan was in motion.

Gannon gave the St. Clair butler his card at precisely
five minutes before five o’clock the next day. He’d been invited, ostensibly, to take tea with the St. Clairs. It
would be the first time he’d have an opportunity to talk
over the evening with Audrey.

If it had been up to him, he would have rushed over
first thing in the morning, but he knew it simply wasn’t
comme it faut. One would no more call before one
o’clock in Newport than he would in London. Unfortunately, Stella had him off at a yachting luncheon that
afternoon, and he was unable to call earlier. Sensing his
disappointment but attributing it to the fledgling stages
of romance, Stella had smiled charmingly and said,
“Keep her dangling, Camberly. Don’t appear too eager.”

“I have business with her father,” he’d responded, but
Stella was unconvinced. For that matter, he was too. It
was true that he had business with Audrey’s father,
thanks to an intriguing discussion over port and cigars at
Caroline Astor’s. But that wasn’t the reason for his impatience. He found he was filled with an inexplicable
desire to celebrate with Audrey, to share with her all that
had taken place after she and the other women had left
the table.

To his credit, Gannon did try to explain his desire to
see her again rationally to himself. Impending romance
had nothing to do with it. They were co-conspirators after all. Of course he’d want to share with her how things
were going. The urge to see her had nothing to do with
simply wanting to share her company, to hear her opinions, or to be the recipient of that saucy smile she tossed
his way whenever she teased him.

“This way, sir. The St. Clairs will receive you in the conservatory,” the butler intoned, returning from wherever he’d gone with Gannon’s card.

Gannon followed the fellow through the wide halls of
Briar Cliff, the well appointed “cottage” the St. Clairs
called home for eight weeks each summer, never guessing what a flurry of excitement his visit had conjured
up in the room down the hall.

“Audrey, sit here at the window. The sun will catch
your hair just so,” Violet instructed in a hurried whisper.
“Here, look like you’ve been reading.” She shoved a slim
volume of Longfellow’s poetry into Audrey’s hands. “I
wish you had time to change. Your afternoon gown in
celery green would be perfect in this setting.”

“We’re receiving a caller, not sitting for a portrait.” Audrey grimaced and gave a sighing huff, plopping down on
the window seat as instructed. She rather thought Gannon
would laugh if he could see her mother’s contrivances.
“I doubt English girls go through so much nonsense”
Audrey twitched at her skirt.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course they do. Every girl
has to make a good match. Even so, American girls have
to try harder. We don’t have titles to recommend us, only
ourselves and our deportment. Sit up straight. Act like a
countess. We want Camberly to see your potential.” Violet sank onto the nearby settee in an artful pose, seeming
to concentrate on the needlework in her lap.

The scene of domestic tranquility, Newport style, made Audrey want to shudder. She had to get into the
Viennese conservatory. How was she to escape all this
otherwise? She did not want to become her mother, but
what else was there for her here? How did the other girls
stand it? Audrey knew she wasn’t alone in her situation.
Down the avenue at the Breakers, Alva Vanderbilt was
overtly hanging out for the Duke of Marlborough in
hopes of snatching him up for her daughter, Consuelo.
The duke hadn’t come over yet, but Alva was anticipating him. She’d been tracking the eligible duke’s social
and financial history for years, ready to run him to ground
when the time came. Audrey was tired of the whole game.

The conservatory door opened, and the butler announced Gannon. The Earl of Camberly. She kept forgetting. It was telling that she couldn’t bring herself to
think of him as the earl, a titled English lord. It shouldn’t
have been that hard to do. He certainly looked every inch
the artistocrat.

Today he was attired in a lightweight wool morning
suit of charcoal gray that made his hair appear even
darker than usual, and the subtle striping of his trousers
made his legs look longer. Not that she should have
been noticing such a masculine feature. Audrey promptly
averted her gaze back to the text of her book.

Through her lashes, she saw her mother rise and greet
the earl with amazing calm, considering what had transpired in this very room only moments earlier.

“Mrs. St. Clair, I am delighted to be received.”

“Come and sit. We’ll have tea shortly” Violet St. Clair gestured to a chair near the sofa where she’d been sitting.
“Audrey, come and join us.”

“Miss St. Clair.”

Audrey felt his eyes on her as she set aside her book
and crossed the room to join them. “How kind of you to
call on us,” Audrey said, coaching herself to remember
the role their plan had assigned him as a potential suitor.

“I hope I haven’t interrupted your reading?” Gannon
nodded in the direction of the volume she’d left behind.

“Of course not” Audrey smoothed her skirts and sat down, feeling conspicuous and wondering if her mother
noticed the stilted nature of the conversation. It was much
more awkward than she’d anticipated, playing out two
roles. She had to remember that her mother thought that
she and the earl had only met twice now and both times in
the company of large groups. With the exception of the
stroll at the polo grounds, they had never been alone
beyond their brief breather at the Casino ball to her
mother’s knowledge.

“Did you enjoy the supper party last night?” Audrey
said quickly to cover up the silence.

Gannon relaxed into his chair, crossing a leg. “I did.
I’ve enjoyed meeting so many people since my arrival. I
am particularly interested in the American way of business. Last night, several of the gentlemen present were
kind enough to offer me some useful insights.”

Audrey nodded, understanding exactly what Gannon was telling her beneath the overt message. She was
pleased. Now she just needed to get him apart from her
mother, where they could talk over his opportunities.

“Ah, business?” her mother said with distaste. “I can
hardly imagine what thrall business can hold for a gentleman such as yourself.”

“The world is changing, Mrs. St. Clair. I consider myself to be a man of vision. Those who can’t change with
the times are often left behind. I don’t want to count myself among their number. I try to stay abreast of all the
new thinking.” Gannon leaned forward. “In fact, I must
confess that was part of my reason for calling today. I
had hoped to discuss some business with your husband”

Audrey watched her mother’s eyes narrow ever so
slightly, calculating her next move. She wasn’t pleased
with Gannon’s answer. “Then it’s a good thing, Camberly, that seeing Mr. St. Clair was only part of your reason for coming” Violet managed a light laugh that hid
her disappointment. “You’ve missed him. He’s at the
Reading Room this afternoon. What was the other reason for coming?”

Audrey’s gaze slid in Gannon’s direction. Was he up
to matching her mother’s wit? She needn’t have worried. Gannon reached for the square, wrapped package
he’d set down. “I brought this for Miss St. Clair, with
your permission, ma’am. It’s a book that features Camberly Hall. A few years ago, an ambitious squire in the
area made a study of the great houses in our region and put it all into this volume. The drawings of the homes
are quite well done and accurate”

Violet nodded her approval, and Audrey smiled, slipping the string off the package. Gannon had scored a direct hit. Her mother’s disappointment had been firmly
overcome. Audrey leafed through the exquisitely-done
book. “What page is Camberly Hall on, milord?”

Gannon took the opportunity to move beside her and
look over her shoulder, a gesture her mother noted immediately. “Page thirty-eight,” he offered. “That’s drawn
from the garden side. Camberly’s gardens in the spring
are not to be missed, although my favorite time of year is
the fall, when the leaves in the Camberly woods are in
full color.”

There was a wistful note in Gannon’s voice that caused
Audrey to look up at him. “New England falls are beautiful in that way too,” Audrey supplied. But with luck and if
her plan worked, neither she nor Gannon would be there
to see it.

The tea tray arrived, and talk turned to gardens and
landscaping. Her mother guided the conversation, no
doubt eager to glean more information about his estate.
Audrey didn’t mind. While her mother focused on the
material aspects of Gannon’s details, Audrey found herself focusing on the passion he conveyed for the topic. It
gave her an idea for getting Gannon alone.

When tea was finished, Audrey set down her cup. “I
don’t pretend our gardens here can match Camberly’s, but I’d be glad to show you our grounds. Perhaps it
might ease the pain of being away from home a bit.”

“It’s a splendid idea.” Her mother seconded the thought. “Do go, Camberly, and see the gardens. Make
sure Audrey shows you the roses. They’re particularly
lovely this year.”

“All right, talk quickly. Tell me everything,” Audrey
said the moment they stepped onto the bricked path that
wound through the gardens.

“So much for a leisurely stroll,” Gannon commented.
“I thought I was to see the roses and relieve my homesickness.”

“We can do both” Audrey tilted her head sideways to
look at him with mock severity. “Besides, you knew this
was just a ruse to get some time alone to discuss our
progress. I can’t possibly tell my mother I want to discuss business with you.”

“And here I was hoping you might like me, just a little.”
Gannon feigned hurt feelings,

“Stop it. You know I like you. I don’t go to all this effort for just anyone.”

“No, I don’t imagine you do go to the effort just for
people who can help you get something you want” Gannon’s tone turned serious. “How’s our plan progressing
on your end?”

They stopped walking, having reached a stone wall
that marked the end of the St. Clair property, separating it from a heavily used walking path that wound between
the great houses of Newport and the Atlantic.

“You’re doing fabulously. Showing off your home in
that book today was a stroke of genius, equal to Caroline Astor’s brooch box. You’re quite masterful when it
comes to courtship rituals.”