By the time they went back to the city after Labor Day, their wedding was only four weeks away. It was set for Saturday, October 5, and all of San Francisco was talking about it as the wedding of the century. Louise was constantly busy now, and Eleanor helped her where she could. They were working on the seating of nearly eight hundred guests. There was going to be a full orchestra and a singer for the dancing. Flowers were being shipped in from all over the state for the garlands and table arrangements. They were going to hang chandeliers in the massive tent, which was unheard of. The huge dance floor was being made. The guests had responded as soon as they’d received the coveted invitations.
The exquisite Jeanne Lanvin gown was hanging in the locked guest room, where it had been since they returned from France. Only Eleanor and her mother had the key to it. They didn’t want anyone to see it before her wedding day, or for one of the servants to take a photograph of it and sell it to the newspapers. They trusted Wilson but none of the others to resist that kind of temptation if the social columnists offered to pay them for it. There was speculation all over town, among fashionable women, about what the dress would look like. Those who knew that she and Louise had gone to Paris for it were guessing it was by Worth or Poiret. They were sure she had gone modern, and might even have gotten a sleek gown by Chanel. No one knew the designer of the dress or what it looked like. And even Alex was curious about it now, but knew better than to ask questions. Wilson, when questioned by her co-workers in the staff dining hall, told them honestly that she had never seen it.
Eleanor and her mother had opened the crate themselves late one night, and took the dress out of its huge box. Two full-grown people could easily have hidden in the box, and it was stuffed with reams of tissue paper. Louise had cried when she’d seen the dress again, and Eleanor felt breathless as she looked at it. She still couldn’t believe how beautiful it was, and that she would be wearing the exquisite wedding dress when she married Alex.
“Mama, can you imagine me in it?” she said, looking like a child at Christmas.
“Yes, I can, my darling. I can imagine it perfectly.” Eleanor had looked exquisite in it at the final fitting in Paris. “It won’t be long now.” The wedding was only a week away, and the time seemed to be flying.
“It seems a terrible shame to wear such an amazing dress only once,” Eleanor said in wonder as she touched it reverently.
“That’s always true with a wedding dress.” Louise smiled at her. “I think every bride feels that way. I hope your daughters will wear it years from now, or maybe even a granddaughter.”
“I hope so,” Eleanor agreed with her. And hopefully not in too many years, if she and Alex began having children quickly, which was their dream.
They left the dress in the locked room, and went back downstairs to their own rooms, each of them thinking about Eleanor’s wedding day. Much to her annoyance, Eleanor got a cold that week, and on Monday night she felt ill, and had to cancel dinner with Alex. She wasn’t seriously ill, but she wanted to nip it in the bud before the wedding. She left a message with his secretary that afternoon saying that she had to cancel dinner, because she felt ill. She was shocked when he appeared at the house less than an hour later, looking panicked and deathly pale. Houghton told Eleanor Alex was downstairs in the drawing room, and she went down in her dressing gown to see him. He appeared to be on the verge of tears.
“What’s wrong? Have you called a doctor?” She was shocked by his extreme reaction, and how ravaged he looked. He had walked straight out of a meeting when he got the message, and driven directly to the Deveraux home on Nob Hill.
“No, of course not. I’m fine. Wilson has been making me lemon tea with honey in it. I just don’t want to get sicker before the wedding, so I thought I should stay home tonight.” They’d been planning to have dinner with friends and go dancing. There had already been several dinner parties for them, and hostesses all over the city were dying to entertain them. As she looked at Alex, she realized what had happened. Her canceling the evening with him six days before the wedding was all too reminiscent of his past fiancée, Amelia, dying of Spanish flu five days before their wedding. Eleanor held her arms out to him and he flew into them and held her so tightly she could hardly breathe.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said in a choked voice. “I couldn’t bear it, Eleanor. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” she said gently and pulled away to smile at him. “I’m fine, it’s just a little cold, but I don’t want to have a red nose at our wedding.”
“Oh my God, I thought…” He couldn’t even say the words.
“Nothing bad is going to happen, Alex. I’m fine. I promise.”
“Please, please take care of yourself. I think you should call a doctor,” he said miserably as Louise walked into the room and was surprised to see Eleanor in her dressing gown with Alex. She could see how distressed he was, and had heard him tell Eleanor to call a doctor.
“Did someone get hurt?” She seemed surprised, and Eleanor looked fine to her, although Alex looked dreadful and as though he was about to cry.
“Eleanor’s sick,” he said, obviously in anguish. And Louise understood even more quickly than Eleanor had. The ghosts of the past had come back to haunt him, and he was terrified.
“Are you?” her mother asked her matter-of-factly.
“I think I have a cold, Mama. I just wanted to be careful I don’t get sicker, so I thought I’d stay in tonight.”
“Excellent idea.” Louise nodded her approval. “We can’t have you sneezing and coughing in that dress or with a red nose.”
“That’s what I said to Alex.” Eleanor smiled at him, and in the face of both women looking unconcerned, he started to relax.
“You’re sure it’s nothing?” he asked her again.
“Positive. I’ll be fine by tomorrow or the day after if I stay home tonight. I promise.” He sat down in a chair looking as though he’d been run over by a bus. Charles came home from the office at that moment, saw the three of them in the drawing room, and wondered why Eleanor wasn’t dressed. She explained it to him, and he looked at Alex sympathetically.
“Come into the library, and I’ll give you a brandy,” he said to him, winking at his wife, and Alex followed him meekly.
“She canceled dinner and said she was ill. I thought…”
“I can imagine,” Charles said, cutting him off from the unhappy memory and handing him a snifter of brandy, which Alex downed in a few swallows and thanked him.
“Sorry, it seemed like a nightmarish déjà vu for a moment.” He looked serious.
“I’m sure it did. We all get a bit high strung before a wedding. I had a bit too much to drink at my bachelor party, passed out, and hit my head on the bar on the way down. I still had a headache the day of the wedding.” He smiled at him. “What about you? Any mischief planned for your bachelor party?” He vaguely remembered that it was on Wednesday, although he had declined. He felt too old for evenings of that nature.
“I hope not.” Alex smiled at him, feeling better after the brandy, and a little foolish for panicking. He could see that Eleanor wasn’t direly ill, and was just being cautious with a sniffle, which was sensible of her. “My brothers are in charge of my bachelor party, which was not a good idea. Knowing them, I may be calling you to bail me out of jail, or something equally unpleasant.”
“Count on me.” Charles laughed. “Just call me. I won’t say anything to the ladies if you’ve been arrested.”
As it turned out, Alex wasn’t far off the mark. His two younger brothers had invited more of their own friends than Alex’s, and had hired a dozen prostitutes to entertain twenty young men who’d been drinking heavily for several hours before the girls got there. As soon as Alex saw the girls walk in, he slipped away quietly through a side door, and when he spoke to his brothers the next day, they didn�
��t even realize he hadn’t been there for the “fun.” It had apparently gone on until morning, while Alex was peacefully at home in bed.
“Marvelous evening, wasn’t it?” Harry, his younger brother, said, severely hungover when he called Alex the next day.
“Absolutely wonderful,” Alex confirmed.
“I knew you’d enjoy that.”
“Right.” At least none of them had gotten arrested for disorderly conduct or hiring prostitutes, both of which had happened before, and Alex had had to bail them out of jail. “See you at the wedding, and don’t bring any of the girls with you.”
“Of course not. But we can drop in to see them anytime. I got them at a house on Market Street. They’re good girls.”
“I’m sure they are. I’m going to be married now, though,” not that he had consorted with prostitutes as a bachelor either, but his brothers did, frequently. More than anything, the boys were bored and looking for amusement in any form.
“You need to have more fun, Alex,” Harry said. “At least you had a good time last night.”
“I certainly did.” He had been home in bed and sound asleep by ten o’clock. He was glad he hadn’t stayed.
He had dinner with Eleanor and her parents on Nob Hill that night, and Charles whispered that he hadn’t called to get bailed out of jail, and smiled at Alex.
“I left just as the fun started. I know my brothers,” he said with a wry grin. “I just hope they behave at the wedding.”
“No one will notice if they don’t, in a mob of eight hundred people.”
“They’re liable to chase each other through the tent on horseback on a dare, or some other unpleasantness or childish prank. They’re a handful. They were so young when my parents died, and I’m afraid I wasn’t stern enough with them, and assumed they’d be sensible. Instead they went wild.” He felt that he should have kept a tighter rein on them, but he hadn’t, and now it was too late.
“They sound relatively harmless.” Alex rolled his eyes and Charles laughed.
They made it an early night, and on Friday, Alex had a peaceful dinner with his closest male friends, none of whom had been invited to the orgy by his brothers. Eleanor stayed home with her parents, to have a quiet night and get ready for her big day.
She lay in her bed, thinking that it was her last night in her childhood room as a single woman. She was excited about getting married, but there was something bittersweet about it too. She would be leaving her parents’ home and going to her husband’s after their honeymoon, and she would never be a young girl again, as she was now. On her wedding day she would discover the pleasures and pains of being a married woman. She was nervous about it, and not entirely sure what to expect. Her mother had explained it to her, but so discreetly that Eleanor was not entirely sure how it all worked and it sounded painful to her. Her mother said she would enjoy it after the first time. But the first time sounded somewhat terrifying, even with a gentle, loving man like Alex. None of her friends were married yet, so she had no one to ask. And she would have asked Wilson, but she had never been married either, so Eleanor assumed she knew as little about it as Eleanor did herself.
They were going to stay at the Fairmont on their wedding night, and take the train to New York the next day, then board the ship to Italy for their honeymoon. So this really was her last night at home, in her bed as a young girl, and the next day, after wearing her incredible wedding dress, she would be expected to act like a wife. She had no idea what that would be like. All she knew was how much she loved him, and hoped that would help make it easier. She lay in bed thinking about it for a long time that night, until she fell asleep at last. When she woke up, with the sun streaming into her room, it was her Wedding Day and her dreams were about to come true when she married Alex. She couldn’t think about the rest of it now. This was her moment, when she was finally going to wear The Dress! And in a few hours, she was going to be a bride.
Chapter 4
The house was buzzing with activity from the moment Eleanor woke up. One of the maids brought her breakfast on a tray but she couldn’t eat it, she was too excited. She stayed in her room, and tried not to get in the way. Her mother came to check on her several times, and told her everything was going splendidly, without a hitch. They were setting the dinner tables in the main tent by then, the dance floor had been installed, and the microphones for the band. The activity below stairs in the kitchen was massive and a small army of footmen had been sent to Charles’s cavernous wine cellars under Houghton’s supervision. He had enlarged the cellars before Prohibition came in. And they were going to do what they had for Eleanor’s debut ball. Charles had a vast stock of fine wines and spirits, all of which were legal to serve at a private party in their home. They had more than enough for the number of guests and other parties in the years to come. He had selected some of his finest wines for the wedding. As long as Charles had owned the wine and spirits before Prohibition came in, it was legal to serve it. There was also a fleet of hired footmen being instructed in service.
At last, Wilson came to do Eleanor’s hair. She had just done her mother’s. She always did Eleanor’s for special events, like her debut, or her parents’ parties when she was younger and allowed to see the guests, or her graduation from Miss Benson’s. Wilson did it with special care today, in the small chignon they had agreed on, with the waves around her face, and her mother walked into the room, while Wilson was using the curling iron to create the fashionable waves that Madame Lanvin had agreed would be the right style to wear with her veil.
“Oh you look lovely, dear.” Her mother smiled as she looked at her in the mirror. She was carrying a large square box in her hands.
“What’s that?” Eleanor asked her, intrigued. It looked like a jewelry box, only larger.
Louise sat down on a chair next to her. “This belonged to my grandmother, your great-grandmother. I wore it on my wedding day. I mentioned it to Madame Lanvin in Paris and she thought it would be pretty.” She handed the box to Eleanor, who opened it carefully, and an exquisite pearl and diamond tiara lay nestled in the custom-made box. Louise had warned Wilson about it, who had been doing Eleanor’s hair accordingly, and they gently set the tiara on her head. It was perfect, not too tall and not too showy. It was just the right thing for a bride.
“Oh, Mama, it’s so beautiful.” Eleanor had tears in her eyes as she hugged her mother. She was already wearing the underwear that the house of Lanvin had made for her, silk stockings, and the shoes that went with the dress, and a pink satin dressing gown. All three of them stood admiring the tiara, and Eleanor sat down so Wilson could finish her hair. She was keeping it very simple, though still stylish. She didn’t want to distract from the tiara or the veil. She had just put the last pin in it, when one of the maids came to the door with a box, wrapped in white paper with a white satin ribbon tied in a bow, with a note tucked into it. Eleanor looked surprised, opened the card, and turned to her mother. “It’s from Alex.” The card read only, “To my wife, on our wedding day, with all my heart and soul. Alex.” She could feel her heart pounding as she opened it, and she gasped when she saw it. It was a very important diamond necklace, made up of large perfectly matched round stones, and she could tell it must have been his mother’s. It was even bigger than the one her mother had and seldom wore because the stones were so large. It was an amazing piece of jewelry. Her eyes opened wide as she looked at it and then at her mother. “Oh, Mama!”
“That is an extraordinary wedding present from your husband,” Louise confirmed to her with a smile.
“Should I wear it with my dress?”
“Of course. He would be very hurt if you didn’t, and it will look wonderful. It’s just right for the neckline.” It was a dazzling piece of jewelry, and with her great-grandmother’s tiara, it would be even more impressive. Her mother put it on her carefully, and the necklace sparkled on Eleanor’s neck, as Wilson went
to get the dress.
It was so beautifully made that it was easy to get into. There was a concealed zipper, a number of hooks and the buttons down the back, but there was no mystery to it, and it glided onto Eleanor’s shapely young body as smoothly as it had in Paris, and fell just as it was meant to, with the long train behind her. It took both Wilson and her mother to put the veil in place however. It sat just behind the tiara, with a thin film of tulle which came forward over the tiara and Eleanor’s face to her fingertips. She put on gloves which she would remove at the beginning of the ceremony. The final touch was her bouquet of lily of the valley and white orchids. The effect of all of it together was breathtaking, especially with the necklace and the tiara. Louise gasped as she looked at her and tears filled her eyes. She was wearing a deep sapphire blue gown herself that she had had made in Paris by a well-known dressmaker, but not an haute couture designer. Her dress was very elegant too, with a matching coat, and she was wearing sapphires that Charles had given her. The two women standing together looked incredible, and when they emerged from Eleanor’s bedroom, Charles looked up and stared at them as they came down the stairs. He was speechless, he was so moved.
It was just after six o’clock, and the wedding was to begin at six-thirty at the temporary church on the site of Grace Cathedral, on Nob Hill, directly across from the Deveraux mansion. The original church had burned in the 1906 earthquake. The new church had been under construction for two years and was due to be finished in another year.
The Wedding Dress Page 5