“Old friends of Charley’s father’s from the Royal Yacht Squadron,” I said, hoping Charley appreciated the blackening of my soul for her sake.
“Pish and tosh,” Ginny replied. “How many more gentlemen do you have squirreled up your sleeve? So awash in them that it wasn’t even worth your time to bother to ask that handsome Mr. Dorsey to stop by and renew your acquaintance from the voyage here?”
Ginny’s gentle taunts wrought a new line to Matthias’s brow.
“He was also a passenger on the RMS Mauretania?” Matthias asked. “How closely acquainted were—”
“Evidently not nearly as close as he would have liked, although nothing like this horror of a Mrs. Stuyvesant who seems to scare the living daylights out of Charley. Poor Charley had to feign that she remembered him. Is that why she called him
