She winced. There wasn’t nearly as much humor in that question as she would’ve liked, but now was no time for coyness. “Yes, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“Hippocrates.”
“Pardon me?”
“Hippocrates said it first, well, not those exact words but for extreme diseases, extreme methods of cure, as to restriction, are most suitable. I can say Erasmus’s version in Latin, if you’d like.”
She laughed. There was the humor she adored. “Hippocrates is good enough.”
“Then I’ll see you tonight at the Dorchester.”
“Thank you, Richard. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“I think I do. Until then.”
VALERIE AND DINAH processed down the left staircase leading from the balcony to the Grosvenor House ballroom dance floor, two of the four girls in their part of the line. At the bottom, they joined up with the four girls from the opposite staircase, the eight of them falling into formation to walk in long rows down the length of the ballroom. Guests seated at tables on either side looked on: Richard sat with Aunt Anne, Dorothy, and her husband, Stephen, at a table near the front.
Valerie glanced at Richard when she passed, thankful he was here. All afternoon she’d feared the hospital might hold him up and force her to sit out the dances. He threw her a muted wave that she returned, not caring if she broke the line of solemn debutantes preparing to greet a cake as if it were victorious Lord Nelson. They looked ridiculous enough already with these keepsake Schiaparelli hearts hanging around their necks.
Halfway across the ballroom, she and Dinah shifted sideways with the rest of their line, the girls crisscrossing until all three hundred debutantes stood in two columns with an aisle up the center. The procession was seamless, and they watched in their columns as the select group of debutantes, Katherine included, pulled the massive cake on its trolley to the front of the ballroom.
“What a gas,” Dinah whispered from beside Valerie. “All of us standing here waiting for a cake.”
“We look like a horde of vestal virgins,” Valerie whispered, staring straight ahead as Lady de Walden shot them a sharp look from where she stood overseeing everything like a battle-hardened general.
The Elizabeth Arden makeup artists had been heavy-handed with the rouge and Valerie could see Katherine’s overdone red cheeks from here. Valerie and Dinah pulled faces at her, trying to make her laugh, but she held it together, executing her duties as the cake’s maid of honor with admirable aplomb.
One of the four chefs standing ready to cut the cake handed Princess Helena Victoria a large knife. The direct descendant of Queen Charlotte was playing the role of the dance’s namesake tonight, her tiara so heavy it looked as if it were pushing her head into her neck. The Princess raised the knife with both hands and plunged it into the cake.
“Oh, the horror,” Dinah choked through giggles as they and the rest of the three hundred debutantes went down for the curtsey.
“Murdered by a member of the royal family.” Valerie snorted, wobbling and threatening to tip over as they rose. “It’s too much.”
The debutantes took four steps back in one massive group, a sweeping movement of white dresses. One by one the lines came forward to receive plates of cake sliced by the chefs who descended on the confection to carve it up like a prized kill.
Valerie and Dinah were up next when Lady de Walden huffed over to them. Her laurel-wreath tiara with the massive yellow sapphire in the center made her look more like Caesar than a baron’s wife. “I saw you both snickering and laughing. There’s a reason neither of you were chosen to be maids of honor. You wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for your families. Now straighten up. We’ll have no more of this tomfoolery.”
She marched off in a twinkle of diamonds and her sequined dark blue evening gown. Valerie and Dinah stared wide-eyed at one another before collapsing together in muffled snorts of laughter.
“This is all too much.”
“Did you see her face? It was redder than your lipstick.”
“Careful, we’re up.”
They pulled themselves together long enough to collect plates of sliced cake. The debutantes served the hundreds of guests seated at tables along the edges of the ballroom, under the balconies, and high up in the gallery overlooking the room. Chandeliers shaped like upside-down mushrooms illuminated everything, while the band tucked into the corner played softly.
“Well done, Valerie,” Aunt Anne complimented when Valerie laid a plate of cake in front of her, the delicate tiara set in her hair catching the light. The large number of duchesses in attendance had warranted the wearing of tiaras and the spectacle didn’t disappoint, all the family jewels dusted off for tonight adding to the sparkle.
Valerie smiled her thank-you, then handed plates to Dorothy and Stephen before serving Richard. He watched her, lips pressed tight together. He managed a thankful nod, working as hard as Valerie to hold back his laughter.
“What did Lady de Walden say to you and Miss Brand?” Dorothy demanded, garnering a surprised look from her husband.
“She complimented us on a job well done,” she lied, refusing to be lectured like a wayward schoolgirl in front of Richard.
With one last look to Richard, who was thoroughly enjoying this, Valerie returned with Dinah, Christian, and Eunice to continue serving cake.
“I’m glad that’s over,” Dinah said as she and Valerie fell back into line. “I’m going to chisel off this horrid lipstick as soon as I can.”
“I can’t wait to take off this ridiculous heart.” Valerie adjusted the red ribbon that was pulling at her neck from the weight of the small bottle of perfume tucked inside. She’d give the expensive souvenir to Marian as a thank-you for her hard work.
Serving the cake continued until the guest of honor had been reduced to nothing but crumbs and dirty knives. The chefs carted the carcass away and the bandleader raised his baton to end the ambient music and begin the first dance.
“I suppose it’s time to play my part,” Richard said when Valerie returned to the table, finally able to take off the hideous necklace and leave it with Aunt Anne.
“You’ve acted the role of Prince Charming by simply showing up. You don’t know how grateful I am.” Especially when he took her in his arms for the dance.
“My sister went through it a few years ago. I have an inkling of the importance, but I had no idea it was quite like this.”
“You should rent your services every year, place a discreet advertisement in the Tatler and see what invitations arrive in your post box.”
“I think this is an experience best savored once.”
“I’ll say.” She wasn’t likely to be invited to play Queen Charlotte and cut the cake. “Once is definitely enough, but I’m glad I did it.”
“This might also be the last time it takes place, at least for some time.”
“Not if Lady de Walden has anything to say about it. She’d assassinate Herr Hitler if it meant Germany didn’t interfere with her prized event.”
“We should be so lucky, but I doubt we will be.”
The sea of white dresses and black coats shifted and turned around them, an elegant monochromatic mass of debutantes and gentlemen who might not return if Uncle Neville and peace failed. “Tout passe, tout lasse, tout casse.”
“Nothing lasts, everything breaks, everything fades.”
She gripped his hand tighter, hanging on to him as he turned them in time to the music. “Are we wrong to fiddle while Rome burns?”
“No. We have to live life as it is at present, no matter what we think might or might not happen in the future.”
“Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die,” they said in unison, raising themselves out of the threatening despair. Difficult to believe that all those quotes Father had drilled into her were coming in handy to impress a gentleman, but they were. People said chaps didn’t like clever women, but Richard clearl
y enjoyed her.
A couple nearby bumped into them and so did another, hampering the smooth motion of his lead. There were too many people, too much heat and wool and silk. “It’s a dreadful crush.”
“Will your aunt mind if we step out for some fresh air?”
“She won’t, but my cousin will, so let’s be quick about it so she doesn’t notice. She can be such a prudish busybody.”
“My grandmother is like that.” He took her hand and led her through the throng of debutantes and escorts. “My sister calls her a great Victorian nag.”
“Then your grandmother and my cousin would get on splendidly.”
Valerie held on tight to him, glancing through the melee to catch sight of Dorothy. Aunt Anne was deep in conversation with one of her old friends, her simple tiara elegantly wispy beside their thicker ones. Dorothy eyed the dancers with the same frantic look of the nurses in St. James’s Park watching their young charges. If she knew Valerie intended to walk out with a young man, she’d make a scene. If she asked any of Their Excellencies about her, they’d lie for her. With the sheer number of people milling about, it’d be easy to say she’d been here the entire time.
Valerie kept her head low until they slipped out the Park Lane entrance, climbing the stairs up to the Marble Foyer before stepping out under the Great Room entrance and onto Park Lane.
The pavement was crowded with revelers and she and Richard joined the steady stream of people in evening attire crossing the street to Hyde Park. Most congregated around the large fountain surrounded by a low iron rail, remaining respectably in sight of the street and hotel. A few wandered deeper down the paths in search of shadowy privacy. Valerie waited to see which way Richard led her, disappointed when he let go of her hand but thrilled when he guided them into a ramble down the gravel walk.
“Did your mother enjoy the Season when she brought out your sister?”
“She enjoyed seeing her old friends, but she and my sister were exhausted. She said she hadn’t been that tired since taking care of us as children.”
“Your mother raised her own children? That’s like saying leprechauns are real.”
“They are, and she did. She was an only child who spent more years in boarding schools in England than she did with her parents, who were in India. She always said she’d raise her own children, although I think there were days she wanted to hire a nanny, especially when my brothers and I slid down the entrance hall banister, my sister right behind us.”
So it was possible to learn from the past, and not everyone in society was a rotter. “Your parents are happy, then?”
“They are.”
“Next you’ll tell me they’re faithful to one another.”
“To the day.”
“Rare specimens indeed.”
“I’m all too aware of that and glad for them. They’ve found a fulfillment most of their class can’t or won’t, the same way I have with my work.” Across the road, Grosvenor House glowed, and laughter and voices carried around them. Overhead, the stars were visible above the trees, the branches lush with leaves after the bareness of winter. “It took me a long time to come to terms with having to make my own way. If you can believe it, Elm and I were rather wild at Oxford.”
“I don’t believe it.” He was so responsible and levelheaded.
“We were hellions and almost sent down once for our antics. It straightened me out. I couldn’t afford to fail. I didn’t have the family pile to fall back on.” He leaned against the tree beside her, his profile lit by the moon as he stared up at the sky, hands behind him to protect his tuxedo from the bark. “I used to envy Elm. He’s the heir, his future set, or so I thought. One holiday with his family made me realize he didn’t have it any easier than I did, none of us do.”
She toed a pebble in the grass. “Uncle Neville said something similar once, how people pretend to be fine while hiding the awful things they’re facing. I didn’t believe him until I saw it this Season.”
“It’s not society but everyone. There are days when I have to deliver terrible news to patients as gently as I can. They return to their lives with that awful diagnosis hanging over their heads. I want to do more for them than dispense pills or empathy, but often I can’t.”
She took his hand, clasping it tight, never having thought of what it might be like for him at the hospital. “That can’t be easy.”
“It never is.” He turned his hand in hers to hold it tighter. “But I’m glad it’s me they hear it from instead of the more hardened doctors. Everyone deserves compassion no matter what their rank or situation. Offering that to people is worth more to me than all the titles and manors in England.”
“I’m sure they appreciate it.” She could remember every kindness shown to her over the years, from the boulangerie owner who used to slip her day-old bread to the librarian who’d set aside the new novels for her. “At least you’re doing something noble. We can’t all say that.”
“You will in time.”
“You seem so certain of me.”
“I’ve seen enough people face bad news to know who can manage things and who can’t. You simply have to get the stardust of all this out of your eyes, like I did, and you will. You’re clever, like your uncle.” He brushed a curl by her cheek back behind her ear. His skin was warm against hers and the faint light from the hotel glinted in his eyes. She waited for him to touch his mouth to hers, eager to be in his strong arms. There was a calm surety about Richard, a sense that no matter what happened everything would be all right. He was a voice of reason in a sometimes crazy society.
The toll of Big Ben carried across London and over the traffic and parties, sounding twelve times before falling silent. Richard lowered his hand and straightened, regret as potent as the gentlemanly restraint filling his eyes. He was right not to kiss her, no matter how much she longed for it. There were still rules and she didn’t rush to break them, eager to maintain his good opinion. “It’s time to get you back. I don’t want your aunt or cousin barring me from your coming-out dance.”
“Neither do I.”
He offered her his arm and they walked together through the park, past the other guests, returning to the light, noise, and music of the Grosvenor House Great Room. They arrived in time to join the Lambeth Walk, strutting around the room, arms swinging, before they turned to one another to slap their knees and hands in tune with everyone else, then returning to the circular promenade. The entire dance floor shifted around together, matrons and husbands joining in the long parade of dancers that circled up one staircase, along the balcony, and down the other. Valerie and Richard laughed, carried by the energy and cheer filling the room. It was as it had always been, and it would remain this way for as long as Valerie, Richard, and society could hold on to it.
Chapter Sixteen
Her Majesty’s Representative
Lord Hamilton
invites applications for
the Royal Enclosure at the Royal Ascot
Tuesday 13th to Saturday 17th June 1939
The end of May and the beginning of June passed in a whirl of the usual dances, luncheons, and dinners until the Royal Ascot brought a welcome change to the schedule. Valerie and Their Excellencies paraded about the Royal Enclosure in their flower-print dresses with calf-length skirts to keep the hems from dragging through the wet grass. Stylish hats with wide brims were much in vogue, along with the men in their morning suits and gray toppers. The day was clear, with no hint of the rain that had dampened the previous race days, but Valerie’s heels sank into the soft turf whenever she stood in one place for too long. Katherine, ever the mad horsewoman, had braved the bad weather with Jakie, Michael, and her brother David, but the rest of Their Excellencies had waited until the sun came out to attend. With the King and Queen still abroad on their North American tour, the royal pageantry was lacking, but there were plenty of the usual titled and privileged about to make a show of things.
“Valerie, you’re looking lovely as ever.” Elm
swooped in around the other chaps to take her hand, the tails of his morning coat cut sharp, the top hat adding to his height. “Did you receive my note?”
“I did.” It’d arrived the day after the Queen Charlotte’s Birthday Ball full of apologies for missing it but with no request to see her and explain his absence. This was the first time they’d met since the night of the Tango Club. She should be boiling mad at him having chucked her over, but she’d hardly given it much thought. The evening with Richard had kept her in a near-daydream, disappointing her every night when she didn’t see him. He’d been as absent from the recent events as Elm, leaving her quite peeved with both men. If Mr. R. M. Chaplin had even one iota of either chaps’ charisma, she’d toss them both over for him and spare herself the bother.
“I’m dreadfully sorry to have missed it. We’ve been swamped with training the mass of new recruits. Hardly any of us can get away. I had to call in a favor to come here.”
He hadn’t called in any favors for her. “I’m sorry you couldn’t make it. Thankfully, Richard stepped in at the last minute.”
“He can always be counted on, can’t he?”
It wasn’t a rousing compliment, but she didn’t say so. This wasn’t the time to be cross or make a fuss. The etiquette for Ascot was strict, and the wrangling for tickets to the most exclusive event of the Season put everyone on their best behavior. No one wanted to be denied entry next year. It didn’t mean she couldn’t make her irritation clear. “He’s quite reliable, unlike some chaps.”
“I deserve that.”
“You most definitely do.” She good-naturedly poked him in the chest, preferring to have a regular dance partner over a grudge. Men had been rushing to join up and it was possible he hadn’t been able to get away. Or his mother had insisted he cry off after Mavis’s disgusting display. Even then she couldn’t entirely fault him for his filial duty. She’d been far more loyal to Father than he’d ever been to her. She’d had no choice, especially when he’d been nearly all she’d had. “You missed Eunice’s coming-out dance too. Mrs. Kennedy was quite irritated by the heat driving guests outside Prince’s Gate. She went to some trouble to decorate the embassy.”
The Last Debutantes Page 22