Chapter Three

Porter had accepted his invitation to the Ellsworths’ Christmas house party specifically because it would be enormous. If one were to find someone with whom he could build a life, it seemed best to have a great many options. Yet standing in the drawing room that night in such a crush of people, he began to doubt the intelligence of his decision. He far preferred quiet, intimate gatherings. Still, he could endure a little anxiety if it meant him and Lewis living a less lonely life.

He slipped to where Vance stood chatting amiably. Neither of the Munson siblings were the least bit shy, neither were they dictatorial in matters regarding his participation in Society. When Porter felt overwhelmed and ready to retreat from gatherings he needed to attend, they had buoyed him and helped him navigate the shoals. When he desperately required quiet and solitude, they neither laughed nor argued. What would he have done without them?

“Porter.” Vance slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Might I make known to you Mrs. Cunningham, who lives in the neighborhood, and her niece Miss Cunningham, who resides with them.”

He offered a bow.

“Mrs. Cunningham, Miss Cunningham, this is Mr. Bartrum of Essex.”

Curtseys. Expressions of pleasure. All proceeded as it always did, except that Porter found himself assessing the young Miss Cunningham. She was likely only five years his junior. Her manners were fine without being fussy. That, of course, told him little about her as a person. Would she make a good wife? He felt daft jumping to that question so quickly. That was what came of attending a party with the sole purpose of finding a wife.

In short order, Vance introduced him to a Miss Garland. Not long after that, a Miss Fallon was made known to him. Mrs. Ellsworth herself introduced him to Mrs. Talbot, a young widow who lived in the area.

This party was a crush in large part because so many families of significance lived nearby. The Ellsworths’ guest list combined with their many neighbors and the guests those neighbors had invited made for quite a crowd. It was both perfect and miserable.

The gentlemen took their time with the after-dinner port. Porter might have found it a welcome respite, but Mr. Ellsworth allowed no such quiet before the storm.

“I noticed Mr. Munson and Mr. Bartrum were quick to make the acquaintance of many of our eligible lady guests.” Their host grinned almost gleefully. “Did any strike your fancy?”

“They are ladies not horseflesh,” Porter said, a bit under his breath.

Vance raised an eyebrow, as if challenging Ellsworth to disagree.

After a quick sputter, Ellsworth spoke again. “I hadn’t meant to imply they weren’t quite lovely young ladies. My wife is always telling me to think a bit longer before flapping my gums.”

A few of the other gentlemen laughed, raising their glasses of port. Conversation continued along gossip-focused lines. Ellsworth didn’t seem interested in anything else. Vance did an admirable job of turning the topic away from his and Porter’s potential romantic interest in the guests, something their host returned to again and again.

By the time the group joined the ladies, Porter was desperate for escape. Habit took him to where Chloe stood. She was an easy person to be around. They’d known each other nearly all their lives. She’d never seemed bothered that he was easily discomposed in company. She laughed with him but never at him.

“Mr. Bartrum,” Chloe said. Formalities were necessary in company. “Have you met Miss Garland?”

“I have had that pleasure.” He spoke quietly, but at least the words had emerged whole. They also emerged alone. He could think of nothing else to say.

Where was Mrs. Northrop? Wasn’t she supposed to be sorting all of this so he needn’t be so overwhelmed by it? He would bungle the entire thing if left to his own.

The matchmaker sat a bit aside, watching. It was a different sort of watching than he’d seen before. She seemed to somehow be observing everything all at once. And he suspected she didn’t miss a detail, little or great. There was some comfort in that—she was likely to discover things about the other guests that he might miss—but it was also unnerving. What did she see about him?

“Friends.” Mr. Ellsworth’s booming voice broke through the din of conversations. “My wife has wisely suggested we play games. There are too many of us for a single undertaking, but we thought we might offer a few options, and each person can join in whichever appeals to him or her.”

Murmurs of agreement met his suggestion.

One side of the room, he declared, would be dedicated to a game of Pass the Slipper. That sounded far too rowdy for Porter’s taste. The other end of the room would be undertaking Yes and No. Porter liked that option better. The middle of the room was assigned The Minister’s Cat.

As Porter was already in the middle of the room and didn’t object to the game, he remained where he was. Chloe did as well.

The game began with Mrs. Talbot. “The minister’s cat is an agile cat.”

Mrs. Cunningham took up the challenge next. “The minister’s cat is an agile and brown cat.”

Agile. Brown.

Miss Cunningham was next. “The minister’s cat is an agile, brown—” She stumbled a bit over the rest of the sentence, apparently struggling to think of an adjective beginning with the letter C.

The group smiled and teased, all good-naturedly, and Miss Cunningham accepted her elimination in stride. A good sign, that, being willing to endure a bit of nettling.

A guest Porter had not yet met took his turn. “The minister’s cat is an agile, brown, courageous cat.”

Agile. Brown. Courageous. He could remember those, nothing too odd or difficult.

It was Chloe’s turn. “The minister’s cat is an agile, brown, courageous, dead cat.”

The group sputtered. Porter laughed. Chloe was endlessly amusing.

“How can the cat be agile and dead?” Mrs. Talbot asked.

“Clearly he wasn’t as agile as rumor would have us believe.” Chloe spoke as if perfectly serious. “Or his courage was actually foolhardiness.”

More laughter met the bit of wit. Chloe lit up every room she was in. Why was she unmarried? Mrs. Northrop could likely find her a match, but Chloe had insisted earlier that day she had no interest in one. That was a shame.

Next to Porter, Vance took his turn. “The minister’s cat is an agile, brown, courageous, dead”—Vance rolled his eyes at his sister’s contribution—“elegant cat.”

Porter took a breath and began. “The minister’s cat is an agile, brown, courageous, dead, elegant, foolhardy cat.”

More laughter erupted, most especially from Chloe.

“You cheated,” she said with a broad grin. “I said that word not thirty seconds ago.”

“And I thank you for it,” he said.

The group accepted his ill-gotten word, and the game continued. Porter felt more at ease the longer they sat there going around the circle. He needn’t talk often, and what he said was predetermined. He was not nearly so drained by the gathering as he had been.

Those in the middle of the drawing room came to know one another. Porter took note of Mrs. Talbot, the widow, and her quickness. She was sharp of mind and didn’t struggle at all with the challenge of the game or the necessity to speak. That was likely a good thing. Rebecca had been the same way, and that strength in her had helped him shed some of his hermit-like tendencies. It had also, though, led to a great deal of frustration between them. They were simply so different in that respect.

Miss Cunningham proved quiet and sweet natured. She might be pleased with a life of comparative solitude. She might not grow irritated with him when he felt himself unequal to the task of going about Society.

Mrs. Northrop had joined the game of Yes and No. Porter hoped she was learning something about the guests on that end of the room. Her success in this field was well-known; he would trust that.

Chloe offered another hilariously ridiculous adjective, and the gentleman beside her laughed quite heartily. Another gentleman in the group complimented her effusively. Another smiled rather warmly.

She had a way of drawing people to her. He had always appreciated that about her. He felt less appreciation for her admirers in that moment, however. Perhaps because they were being so obvious in their attentions. He didn’t care to see her the object of speculation or whisper. Some in Society could be viciously unkind, choosing to willfully misrepresent a lady’s being gregarious as being overly forward. He didn’t want that to happen to her.

“What do you know of Misters Twickenham and Barber?” he asked Vance.

“Not very much,” Vance said. “Both are gentlemen. Twickenham attended Cambridge. I believe Barber’s estate sits very near the Scottish border. Neither belongs to White’s.”

“Neither is particularly subtle about his interest in Chloe.”

Vance laughed under his breath. “Noticed that, did you?”

“I believe the entire room noticed.”

Vance shrugged. “If Mrs. Northrop noticed, Chloe’ll truly be in the suds. No matter her protests, she’ll likely find herself matched and married by year’s end.”

“Mrs. Northrop won’t force Chloe into a match against her will,” Porter insisted.

“You’re certain of that?”

He would make certain of that.

* * *

Adelaide would have to remember the Ellsworths when needing to assist a client with expanding his or her circle of acquaintances quickly. This house party was the largest she had ever been to. It was also a great deal of fun.

Since she was to be seen as nothing more than a participant, she chose to join in the games. She never forgot, however, the reason she was actually there. Several of the unattached ladies present had potential to be a good match for Mr. Bartrum. A lady who would urge him to be a bit more social would be good. Yet, Adelaide was in complete agreement with Chloe: Mr. Bartrum also needed a lady who did not resent his quiet nature. He had shown himself to be quick-witted in the game he had joined. A gentleman in possession of a sharp mind would be terribly discontented with a wife who was a complete featherhead.

He needed someone who would love and care about his son and help him manage the child, whom Adelaide had heard from both Munson siblings was rather a handful. But he also needed someone who would love and care about him. He could not give his child the happy, warm home he clearly wanted if he and his bride shared no tender regard.

Adelaide had no doubt she could find such a paragon. Doing so before the house party was over might be more daunting.

Yet, watching Porter interact with Chloe, a potentially obvious bit of the unformed puzzle began to form in her mind. She knew Chloe’s heart harbored a deep affection for her lifelong friend. Porter’s feelings in that direction were not as simple to ascertain, but he was far more at ease with Chloe than anyone else. He smiled more. Laughed. He even spoke without stumbling over his words.

Adelaide did not yet know if there was love there. But one thing she was certain of: there was potential.