Chapter 10 #2
“If we can get them to elope, then her mother won’t have any reason to travel to Europe and Annabelle will be one less person to compete with.”
Encourage Annabelle and Alec to fall in love again? The thought made me ill. I chose not to comment, hoping she’d forget she had asked me. I couldn’t play matchmaker between them.
“Keep all your competition close.” She continued her last-minute instructions as she handed me my fan and dance card. “But not too close. Learn their strengths and weaknesses—but never reveal yours. Do you understand?”
I nodded. This wasn’t just about winning the best husband, it was about thwarting the plans of my competitors, and keeping allies like George close—but not too close.
What I really wanted was a real friend.
“Good.” She stood back and looked at me one more time. “I believe you’re ready, Clara.”
Despite the hours of socializing I’d already done, there was a heightened level of nerves that hummed inside me.
Hundreds of people had accepted Aunt Maude’s invitation to my debutante ball tonight, and all of them would be watching me.
Almost no one questioned the story we’d told about my origins, but many were still skeptical. Any little misstep could mean disaster.
“I’ll go down first,” Aunt Maude said as she moved toward the door. “Our guests will start arriving any moment, but I want you to make a spectacular entrance on the stairs. Come down in thirty minutes.”
I nodded, knowing every strategy, every detail, every nuance of this evening was part of a larger master plan.
A plan that felt more and more dishonest with each passing day.
Thirty minutes later, I left my bedroom and entered the upper gallery.
It was half past ten and the wall sconces burned bright.
Conversation mingled with laughter from below and the string quartet played a soft melody.
The dance would begin at eleven, dinner would be served at one, followed by more dancing.
It would prove to be a long and arduous night, but I’d attended enough balls to know what to expect.
I didn’t hate them, but I would prefer a quiet parlor with a handful of guests.
My dress was heavy and difficult to move in, but it was sleeveless, which made it cooler for the warm ballroom.
I stood for a moment, taking a deep breath as my gaze slid across the gallery to Alec’s bedroom door. Every time I walked out of my room, my eyes searched for him, though I knew he was in Newport.
Tonight, my heart galloped, wondering if this time I would see him emerge.
I waited—a minute. Two minutes. Five.
Perhaps he was already downstairs.
With a light step, I walked to the top of the stairs and saw all the guests assembled below in the large hall. I scanned each face, looking for Alec, but found unfamiliar gazes turning toward me.
Strangers intermingled with a few people I’d met or come to know the past two months.
George stood at the foot of the stairs and glanced up at me with a smile.
I forced myself to not feel disappointed and returned his smile.
Everyone turned to watch me walk down the stairs.
The lights were bright, and the scent of fresh-cut flowers made me want to sneeze.
Floral garland was attached to the railing, making it impossible to use as I tried to maneuver in the massive gown.
My heeled shoes were a little taller than I was used to and while I should have been focusing on my steps, my gaze continued to scan the crowd.
It felt like it took an hour to descend those stairs, but I was eventually at the bottom, and I was joined by Aunt Maude and George.
“You look stunning tonight, Miss Hill,” George said as he bowed over my hand. “A dream in gold.”
“Thank you,” I said as I allowed him to kiss my gloved hand.
“Will you allow me the honor of the first dance?” he asked. “I’ve been waiting here since I arrived, hoping to be the first to speak to you.”
Where was Alec? Why wasn’t he waiting at the bottom of the steps for me?
I had wanted to save the first dance for him, but it would be rude to tell George to wait for my answer.
Instead, I looked at Aunt Maude, who gave me a slight nod.
George was a nob, and he would do quite nicely for her purposes.
“I would like that,” I told him, though my heart longed for someone else to ask me.
He grinned and wrote his name at the top of my dance card.
Aunt Maude pulled me away from him to introduce me to the rest of my guests. My mind whirled with names and faces as I tried to focus.
My dance card filled quickly, and with each penciled name, my disappointment mounted. If Alec didn’t appear soon, I would have no dances left for him.
“Where is Alec?” I finally asked Aunt Maude when I had a moment to breathe.
Aunt Maude’s features hardened. “He was unable to make it tonight.”
“Why?” I shook my head. “He must know how important this evening is to all of us.”
“Put a smile on your face and pretend all is well, Clara. We will talk about it later.”
More pretending. More secrets.
At exactly eleven, George appeared at my elbow and offered me his arm.
He escorted me onto the dance floor while the rest of the guests assembled along the edges of the ballroom. All the walls had been opened to allow the three rooms to become one. And though I was familiar with the house, it felt like I was in another world.
What would Aunt Orla and Uncle Charlie and my cousins think if they saw me now? What would Imogen say? I wished she could be with me, knowing how much she appreciated fine and beautiful things.
I wished my mother and father could see me now, too. I wanted them to know I was worth something—perhaps not to them, but to Aunt Maude and George Vanderbilt.
There was a time I had hoped I meant something to Alec, too, but his absence from my life hinted otherwise.
As the musicians began a waltz, I lifted the train of my gown and allowed George to spin me around the dance floor. He was a magnificent dancer, so confident and handsome, and he seemed to only have eyes for me. I smiled up at him, trying to remember that I was happy.
The evening progressed from one dance to the next, but they all started to blend. When we stopped for supper, George escorted me into the dining room. He sat to my right, a place of honor, and I knew that by morning the gossips would speculate that we were engaged.
Would he ask me to marry him? Now that I’d had a proper debutante ball, I was considered ready for the marriage mart. Surely George knew why Aunt Maude was taking me to Europe. He couldn’t be completely na?ve.
After the meal, there was more dancing. My feet and back ached, but I kept a smile on my face, knowing how much money and time Aunt Maude had given toward this ball.
The flowers alone had cost her five thousand dollars, a sum of money that would take over a decade for Uncle Charlie and his family to make.
To know that they would be cast into the garbage tomorrow felt like a sin.
Newspaper reporters were writing scathing articles about the excess and waste of parties like this one when the average New York family was living off less than four hundred dollars a year.
And they weren’t wrong. For party favors, Aunt Maude has chosen gold cigarette cases for the men and diamond necklaces for the women.
The food, the champagne, the party favors, flowers, invitations, musicians, and extra staff had cost over fifty thousand dollars.
And all for what? To impress each other? It was a foolish way to live and the more I experienced it, the more I disliked it.
But it wasn’t my money, so I said nothing.
Just before five in the morning, the musicians announced the final dance of the ball. I wanted nothing more than to climb into my bed and sleep for days, but I soldiered on and saw that George had written his name for the last dance, as well as the first.
He found me near the punch table and offered his arm to me.
“I hope you don’t mind that I took the last dance without asking,” he said as we began to waltz.
“Of course not.”
His smile was warm and affectionate. “I’ve loved getting to know you these past two months, Clara.”
“And I you.” I was so tired of talking, but it was almost over.
“I imagine you’ll have several callers in the morning.”
There had been many young men who had asked if they could call, and I had said yes to all of them. Aunt Maude wanted it to appear as if I was the belle of the season.
“I suppose I will,” I said.
“I hope—” He paused.
I finally gave him my full attention. If things had been different, I could have fallen in love with George. He was kind and generous and would be easy to love.
“I hope,” he continued, “that you’ll not give any of them encouragement to pursue you.”
I studied him, waiting.
“I had rather hoped you’d reserve that for me,” he continued.
For weeks, I had practiced my response to him, but it seemed to stick in my throat.
“Don’t speak now,” he said. “I would rather wait and hear a yes, than get my answer now and hear a no.”
I smiled at him, thankful he was preceptive enough to understand where I stood. “You are very dear to me.”
Those appeared to be the right words because his hand pressed a little tighter to my back and his gaze filled with pleasure.
When the final dance concluded, the guests took their leave, and I was finally free.
Twenty minutes later, I stood with Aunt Maude in the ballroom for a moment, listening to the silence.
“The staff will come in soon and begin the cleanup,” Aunt Maude said with a sigh. “You’ll want to get a few hours of sleep before your callers arrive.”
I groaned at the thought.
Aunt Maude looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “Remember you’re respectable now, Clara, and respectable people don’t moan.”
Duly chastised, I smiled.
She left the parlor, and I stood for another moment taking in the empty ballroom, wondering how I had been so fortunate as to have this opportunity. Because no matter how difficult or unpleasant, it was a far better life than the one I’d been leading.
“I’m sorry, Keira.”
I spun at the sound of the familiar voice and found Alec standing in the doorway, still wearing his outer coat and hat, a small traveling bag in hand. The early morning light was just starting to glow on the horizon outside the windows, but the wall sconces were still shining.
Alec stared at me for a moment, taking in the sight of me, and then slowly lowered his bag. He took off his coat and set it on the back of a chair, putting his hat on top.
“Why weren’t you here?” I asked.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “If I could have been here, I would have.”
I frowned. “I don’t understand.”
He stood in front of me, admiration shining in his eyes. “You look beautiful.”
I’d been complimented all evening, but his was the only one that truly mattered.
“Thank you.”
“I know I’m too late—but could I have the final dance?”
“There is no music.”
“We don’t need music.”
I hadn’t seen him in so long, there was an awkwardness between us, but I didn’t want it to last, so I lifted the train of my gown and stepped closer to him.
He took me into his arms, pausing for just a moment as his gaze caressed my face, my hair, my gown, and then we slowly began to waltz around the empty room.
And he was right. We didn’t need music.