CHAPTER NINE #2
“Endicott. As in the steel company?” May asked.
Agnes nodded approvingly. “I’m so glad you know of us. Most women aren’t even aware how steel is used, let alone who produces it.”
To her own surprise, May admitted the truth.
“I read the newspapers in the mornings, before my father wakes up.” And then she folded the pages neatly back in order, so that when Francis finally tripped down the stairs, stale with a hangover, he wouldn’t realize that anyone had been there before him.
May wasn’t sure what would have angered Francis more, the realization that his daughter was intelligent, or that she’d taken something that he considered his property.
“Good for you! I read the newspaper as well, starting with the society pages, of course. I find that I only have the stomach for business and world affairs after I’ve consumed at least one cup of coffee.”
May eyed Agnes’s outfit with new understanding. The Endicotts’ fortune might be new money, but it was surely immense.
“Miss Endicott. Why are you here?”
“My father met the Prince of Wales at a shooting party hosted by the Keppel family—you must know them? He and His Royal Highness hit it off.” Agnes lowered her voice conspiratorially.
“They gambled for great sums of money. Daddy said the prince is such an awful whist player that it took tremendous skill to lose on purpose! But once he did, he was able to hint that we would love an invitation to tonight’s event. ”
Well, that explained why an American commoner was at the investiture party. Since he was technically the host, Uncle Bertie could alter the guest list, something he would never have been able to do at a Buckingham Palace event.
“I meant, why are you in England?”
“Why else do wealthy Americans come abroad these days? I’m here to get the one thing I cannot buy at home—a title. My mother has her heart set on a prince, but I’m not a fool; I know that’s not an option for me.” Agnes spoke flippantly, with a mischievous, teasing smile. “Perhaps for you, though.”
“I don’t…” It was surreal, hearing another woman talk so frankly about May’s secret hopes.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to settle for an impecunious earl, if I’m lucky. Unless you know any dukes with run-down castles looking to renovate?” Agnes went on.
May knew she should walk away from this conversation, back to the familiar circle of society women and their talk of bonnets and marriages and who had offended whom.
She and Agnes had veered into dangerously personal territory.
Yet something about the American was…refreshing.
She had a bright, New World zest for life, so at odds with the sense of defeat that May was used to.
And her frankness made May want to sigh with relief.
“Do you?” Agnes prompted, causing May to blink in confusion.
“Do I what?”
“Do you know of any dukes with run-down castles?”
When May said nothing, Agnes sighed. “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, Your Serene Highness—”
“You are,” May cut in.
Agnes ignored her. “You and I could help each other! I know about your family situation.” She said this without an ounce of judgment.
“You clearly think I’m an ignorant American, but I’m also a quick study.
I’ve read all about the aristocracy—I can spot the Spencer red hair, the Cavendish temper, the Grosvenor family curse.
Yet the moment I arrived in London, I realized that I’m still unprepared. ”
“What makes you say that?” May couldn’t help asking.
“Because it’s no good knowing the players when you can’t understand the rules of the game!” Agnes’s eyes were downcast. “Nothing here is like it was in Chicago, and the stakes are far too high to allow for defeat. I need someone to teach me all the things they don’t write in books.”
May sighed. “You’re at the investiture of the future king. I don’t know if you need any help.”
“Please. I’m not such a fool as to think I’ll get invited to another event like this.
The doors have opened to me for this rare, fleeting moment, and if I don’t make the most of it while I have the chance, the opportunity will be lost!
I can’t be reliant on my father,” Agnes added, the bold command in her voice faltering.
May softened in spite of herself. She knew better than anyone what it felt like, wanting to escape the shadow cast by one’s father.
“It won’t be easy.”
“Because I’m American?”
“Because it’s as you said; you need to learn the rules!
You showed up tonight looking like you’re dressed for a ball in—in—” She struggled to think of somewhere typically American and flashy.
“Newport! Even at a royal event, you don’t need so much gold embroidery.
Or such large jewels. I assume you have wonderful diamonds, too, but I hope you never wear them during daylight hours. And no dark furs until you’re married.”
The other girl glanced self-consciously down at her gown. “I wanted to stand out.”
“You will stand out by reputation. People will talk about your money, even without you literally wearing your fortune on your sleeve.” Without thinking, May had adopted Agnes’s forthright way of speaking. “And you’ll need to keep your opinions to yourself.”
“What opinions?”
“All of them! If you want to marry a future earl, let alone a duke, you’ll need to impress their mothers. No society mama wants her son to marry a modern girl.”
“Then they aren’t so different from American mothers.” Agnes flashed that bright, hopeful smile again. “So you’re going to help?”
“Oh no—I was just giving you some friendly advice.” May couldn’t afford to be seen with an American husband-hunter. If she wanted to marry Eddy, there was no room for mistakes.
Agnes clapped her hands in sudden excitement. “But of course, we haven’t discussed your payment!”
“Payment?” May wasn’t a tradesman for hire, or someone who accepted bribes.
“You must understand that Americans don’t accept anything for free. So, to thank you for your generous advice, I must insist upon buying you a new gown.”
“I couldn’t possibly accept that.”
“Why not? It’s such a small thing. Please,” Agnes pressed. “I don’t like feeling like I owe anyone, or am in their debt. Let me do something to even the scales between us.”
May was well aware that a new gown far exceeded the value of the advice she had just given. And yet…How glorious it would feel to arrive at a party not in a turned-over dress with recycled lace, but in something new.
She felt her convictions wavering. Men didn’t go to war without armor; how could she wage the greatest campaign of her life, a campaign to marry a prince, without being dressed for battle?
“I don’t know how I would explain a new dress to my father,” May muttered, half to herself.
“Didn’t you just lose your grandmother? I’m sorry for your loss, by the way,” Agnes added hastily. “But could you say that the duchess left you a bit of money and you used it to buy the dress?”
May studied the American girl with new thoughtfulness. If Agnes knew how May was related to the late Duchess of Cambridge, then she really had studied the aristocracy. Maybe she could hold her own in a drawing room or two.
“What do you need from me?”
“Not much!” Agnes said swiftly. “Just make a few introductions; give me suggestions about my attire or behavior, as you did just now. And warn me about the people I’m going to meet.”
May’s eyes drifted once more over Agnes’s gown.
Though it was far too ostentatious, with the train and the gold stitching, it was also so new, its fabric rich and expensive-looking.
She thought of her own drab wardrobe, the way everyone at these receptions looked at her with such pity in their eyes.
“Very well, Miss Endicott. I will introduce you around.”
Agnes squealed in delight. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” May told her, already hoping that she wouldn’t regret this decision.