by Renee Yancy
***
The next day a constant parade of wagons and delivery vehicles came and went to the basement level of the mansion, conveying crates of chickens, sides of beef, and load after load of scarlet poinsettias and fir garlands to festoon every balcony and balustrade. White candles burned in windows and poinsettias banked walls and staircase steps. Tall Christmas trees abounded in every room on the main floor, covered in glittering ornaments and silver ribbon. It was stunning and magnificent, as her mother intended it should be.
Lindy rose early and dressed for a walk, pleasantly surprised to find Emma already up, waving at her from up the beach.
“Good morning. You’re up early, Emma.”
Emma smiled. “Have to get my walk in.” She wrinkled her nose. “Before all the fuss and feathers start.”
Lindy burst out laughing. “You are so refreshing.” She linked her arm with Emma’s as they strolled down the beach. “This is as good a time as any to tell me about the changes in your life.”
Emma shrugged. “There isn’t all that much to tell. My father died and left me penniless. I had planned to stay in Brockport and teach, but the law required that I go to the guardian appointed for me years before. Uncle Henry.”
“And how are you getting along with him?”
“Very well. I’ve become quite fond of him.
“He is a dear man. Some of my best childhood memories come from spending summers at Wasahana with him.” That had been a glorious time. She had been allowed to run free and climb trees, fossil hunt at the river, and make mud pies in the garden.
“Until the will was read, I believed my father had no siblings.”
“That must have been a startling discovery.”
“It was. And I was quite resistant at first. As I said yesterday, Uncle Henry had all sorts of plans for me. Introducing me to society, et cetera. I put a stop to that, however.”
“How?”
Emma shrugged. “I simply told him I wanted no part of it. And after a while, he stopped pushing the idea. Now I teach a small school of poor farmer’s children in a building donated by a neighbor.” She stopped and turned to face Emma, her hazel eyes piercing. “Why did you sigh like that?”
Lindy frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I did.”
“Shall we sit a while?” Emma gestured to a pile of rocks nearby. They took a seat on a flat piece of jutting rock, partially protected from the sea breeze. “You’re engaged to the duke, so I’m guessing that means moving to England after the marriage.”
Lindy nodded.
“I’ve read about some American girls marrying into the aristocracy of England. France too.” Emma leaned down and rooted through a pile of clamshells. “Lady Randolph Churchill was the first, I believe.”
“Yes. Jennie Jerome was her American name.” And one of the first to bring a huge dowry to her English husband.
Emma held up a whelk shell.
“That’s a nice one,” Lindy said. “Perfect.”
Emma tucked the shell into her coat pocket. “Are you looking forward to moving to England?”
“Not particularly.”
“How did you meet the duke?”
“Oh, my mother arranged everything.” Lindy laughed bitterly. “I had no say in the matter.”
“Oh dear.” Emma frowned. “I’m so sorry... I didn’t realize. And here I am, asking you all these questions.” She hesitated. “Is this the difficulty with your mother you referred to yesterday?”
“Part of it.” Lindy picked up a handful of sand and let it sift through her fingers. “She wants a title in the family. So, she sold me to the duke.”
Emma gasped.
“I know that’s a horrible thing to say, but it’s true.” Lindy tried to smile. “Forgive me, I’m not trying to shock you. But I’m seldom able to express what I really think about things.” Except with Jack. I could always tell him what I really thought. Pain lanced through her chest at the thought.
“Was there someone else?”
“Why do you ask?”
“The look on your face as you said you couldn’t normally express your feelings.”
“There was. But it’s over and done with now.” Lindy straightened. “Enough about me. Tell me about yourself and coming to Uncle Henry at Wasahana.”
“Miss Lindenmayer.”
They both turned at the tart, clipped voice. Adele stood on the sand a few feet away, her coat collar pulled close around her neck. “Your mother is looking for you. She requires your presence in her bedroom.” She shivered and cast a look about the deserted beach, then frowned when Lindy made no move to get up. “Immediately.”
“Thank you, Adele.” Lindy stood. “You may tell my mother I will be there shortly.” After Adele stalked away, Lindy turned to Emma. “I hope we can continue our conversation later today, perhaps after lunch?”
“That would be delightful. I will see you then.”
***
Six guests tonight, to make the desired number of twelve for a perfect small dinner party. Her mother had kept her busy the rest of the day with small tasks and arranging flowers for the dinner table, so there had been no further opportunity to see Emma.
Her mother used the Grand Salon as a reception room, and here Lindy waited now with her parents, the duke, and Uncle Henry for the guests to arrive. Emma hadn’t come down yet.
Dinner would be served at eight-thirty, and it was eight o’clock now. But etiquette dictated the hosts be ready and available early, for the rare occurrence of an early guest.
Papa and Uncle Henry stood near the fireplace, their heads close together, talking about the stock market.
Lindy walked away from her mother’s spirited discussion with the duke over the merits of Yorkshire pudding. Snow fell softly outside the tall leaded windows of the salon, and she leaned against the wall, partially hidden inside the heavy silk portieres. Already the steps and balustrades had a thick powdering, and the lanterns on the posts at the end of the drive had drifts of white over their tops, softening their mellow light.
So peaceful. If only she could stay here forever in this little nook.
A gentle hand touched her shoulder. “Are you well, sweetheart?” Papa gazed into her face. When she didn’t answer, he took her hand and tried to smile. “I’m sorry about all this, Lindy. But you know your mother...” His voice drifted off, and his lips worked soundlessly, as if he would say more.
Yes, I know my mother. Vera Lindenmayer always gets what she wants and woe to the man or beast that dare stand in her way.
Her father’s chin trembled, and Lindy gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I will be all right, Papa.”
“I tried, Lindy. I tried to talk to her about Jack. He’s a fine boy, and he’d make a fine husband.”
Lindy’s throat thickened. “Don’t—don’t let’s speak about him now, Papa. I couldn’t bear it.”
He nodded. “But I wanted you to know.”
She bowed her head. But she wanted to scream. Why? Why couldn’t you put your foot down for once and tell her no? What’s the worst that could happen?
He answered her unspoken thought. “She said she’d divorce me.”
Lindy snorted. “Perhaps that would have been better for all of us.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.
Her father winced. “You don’t mean that.”
Lindy sighed. She had no wish to hurt her father. He was as much in thrall to Vera as she was. “Forgive me, Papa.”
He put his arm around her, and she leaned against him. “Will you come to see me in England?”
He kissed her cheek. “Of course, sweetheart. As often as I can.”
Mama’s voice rang out sharply. “Our guests are arriving, Otto.”
“The Empress calls,” he whispered into her ear.
Emma had come down and now stood next to Uncle Henry for the formal receiving of the dinner guests. Wearing a gown of coral silk, the bodice encrusted with pearls and gold beading, she gave Lindy a warm smile
. “Where have you been all day? I looked for you so we could continue our conversation.”
“My mother kept me busy with arrangements for tonight.”
Emma frowned and leaned in close. “I think she’s trying to keep me away from you,” she said in a low voice. “I saw her after breakfast and asked where you were. She managed to not answer me.”
“Hmm. I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“And we must leave unexpectedly. Something at the estate requires Uncle Henry’s immediate attention.”
“Oh no.”
“We’re taking the early train in the morning.”
Madeleine stepped up, on the arm of a strikingly handsome blond man, and pounced on Lindy. “Darling! May I offer my felicitations on your engagement?” She drew the blond man’s arm closer through her own. “And please let me introduce my dear friend and escort, Nicholas Stuyvesant.” Maddie positively glowed as she gazed at Mr. Stuyvesant, who seemed equally charmed. Lindy sent Maddie a questioning look, and her friend responded with a tiny smile and a slight shrug of her elegant shoulders. Perhaps another engagement would be announced soon. Hopefully, a happier one.
In turn, Lindy greeted Mr. and Mrs. Hermann Oelrichs, old friends of the family. Tessie, a famed New York hostess in her own right, impressive in a regal gown of dark green silk and a dog collar of diamonds and emeralds around her plump throat. White osprey feathers and an emerald clip fastened her chignon at the back, the feathers undulating in the warmth of the candelabras that stood in every alcove.
Percy appeared at the salon door. “Dinner is served.”
Papa offered his arm to Emma, as one of the guests of honor. The rest of the party paired off as arranged by Mama. Mr. Oelrichs escorted Maddie, Uncle Henry and Mrs. Goulet, Lindy with Mr. Stuyvesant, Mr. Goulet with Mrs. Oelrichs, and lastly, Mama escorted by the duke. When they entered the dining room, each gentleman would seat the lady to his right.
A white damask linen cloth covered the rectangular dining room table. Candlelight glinted off the Baccarat crystal wineglasses, the gold-rimmed Spode china, and the sterling silver place settings, and reflected off the crystal chandelier.
Lindy was at the short end of the table, with Nick Stuyvesant to her left, and Emma next to him. Name cards with Mama’s copperplate handwriting designated each guest’s place.
As the gentlemen pulled out the chairs for the ladies, Emma glanced at Papa, holding her chair out, and turned to Nick. “Would you mind awfully if we switched?” She gave him a disarming smile and swapped her name card for his. “I haven’t seen Lindy all day.” She quickly slipped past Nick and sat down in his place next to Lindy at the end of the table, leaving Papa holding her chair.
Mrs. Oelrichs’s and Mrs. Goulet’s smiles froze on their faces. Nick’s face flushed as pink as the roses in the silver epergne on the table. He cast a quick look around, clearly uncertain of what to do. Mama stared pointedly at Emma. Uncle Henry’s lips twitched.
Oh my, she’s really gone and done it.
Was Emma aware that the hostess set the seating at a formal dinner party? And that the seating always alternated man, woman, man, woman? Had her cousin meant to create a serious faux pas and enrage her hostess, who, as Lindy well knew, was seething inside—if the shut, cold look on her mother’s face was anything to go by? But it would be an even worse breach of etiquette to say something about it.
There was only one thing to be done. Lindy took her seat, and after a moment’s hesitation, the rest of the group followed.
As everyone took their napkins to spread on their laps, Emma leaned over. “I know I’m in hot water now, but I don’t know when I’ll see you again. And I did want to continue our talk.”
“Have you had any formal dinner parties at Wasahana?”
“A few.” She wrinkled her nose. “And I confess I found them so utterly dull and boring that I asked Uncle not to have any more of them.” She laughed. “And I actually think he was relieved because he secretly thinks the same. But of course, he would never admit it.”
“You are too much, Emma.” She lowered her voice. “We probably won’t be able to speak much now, either.”
“Why is that?”
“Because at formal dinner parties like this, the hostess ‘turns the table.’”
“I’d forgotten about that.” Emma’s smile faded.
“But I have an idea.” Should I do it? Her mother would certainly suspect something. But why not? What could Mama do to me now? “When the ladies go to the drawing room, after a short interval, you could excuse yourself. Leaving early in the morning is a good reason. And a short while later, I will beg leave myself.” She leaned in closer. “Our bedrooms have a connecting door. We can stay up as long as we want, and no one will be the wiser.”
“Capital idea, cousin.” Emma’s eyes sparked. “Touché.”
Cherrystone clams comprised the first of seven courses, followed by consommé, beef filet with cream of artichokes, oyster patties and celery, turkey with chestnuts and potato croquettes, and lettuce salad. And then, a flaming plum pudding in honor of the duke’s English heritage, to end the meal, with ices, bonbons, and almonds.
Emma gave Lindy a conspiratorial wink as the men stood and pulled out the ladies’ chairs. And after the women had gathered in the drawing room and had a sip or two of their sherry, Emma approached Mama.
“I can’t thank you enough for such a wonderful evening, Mrs. Lindenmayer.” She gave Mama a brilliant smile. “But I’m simply a bear if I don’t get enough sleep, and we are leaving so early in the morning to return to Hyde Park. I hope you will forgive me if I retire early?”
Lindy bit her lip to keep from smiling. What a consummate actress Emma was.
Mama nodded stiffly. “Of course.” She raised her chin. “We will miss your scintillating conversation and...” she paused and smiled coldly. “Your impeccable manners.”
Mrs. Oelrichs choked on her sherry.
“Good night then, dear ladies.” Emma set her glass down and quit the room.
Mrs. Goulet raised an eyebrow, exchanging a look with Mama. For a moment, no one spoke, and then the inconsequential conversations about nothing of import resumed. Lindy sipped her sherry and waited until fifteen minutes had passed. Then she raised her hand to her forehead and grimaced.
“Are you quite well, my dear?” Mrs. Oelrichs frowned. “You look a trifle pale.”
Thank you! You’ve given me the perfect out. “I... I’m feeling a bit poorly, actually. I think perhaps the cherrystones haven’t agreed with me this evening.”
“Sit down, my dear.” Mrs. Goulet patted the place next to her on the settee.
Lindy pressed a hand to her middle. “I’m not sure I should. Oh dear.” She gripped the top of the nearest chair and bent over.
“What’s this? You’re ill, Evangeline?” Mama came closer, eyes narrowed.
Lindy covered her mouth and faked a burp. “Ohhh.”
Her mother stepped back. “You’d best go to your room immediately.”
One of the most egregious faux-pas a person could commit had to do with bodily functions. “I think that might be best.” Lindy swallowed. “I’m so sorry.”
“No need to apologize, dear.” Mrs. Goulet shook her head. “Clams have the same effect on me. You might consider staying away from them, as I do.”
“Excellent advice. Thank you. Good night.”
Lindy turned and left the drawing room. Emma isn’t the only actress in the family.
Once in her bedroom, Lindy rang for Adele, undressed quickly, and dismissed the maid. She went to the connecting door, knocked softly, and opened it.
Emma jumped off the bed in her nightgown and giggled. “We did it.”
***
For two hours, they talked and shared their stories and experiences.
“I wish you didn’t have to leave so soon.” Lindy smiled sadly. “And I wish that we lived closer.”
“Perhaps you could come for a visit after you’re married?”
/> “That would be lovely.” But I’m sure the duke will want to return to England immediately and put my dowry to work restoring his impoverished estate. “I’m grateful to have had this time with you.”
They embraced and said good night.
As Lindy fell asleep, she realized the next time they would meet would be at her wedding to the duke.
***
After Emma and Uncle Henry left, Lindy took to spending more time out of doors, especially in the evenings. Undetected, she left by a service door and took the sloping path to the sea. Snow lay serene on the lawns and frosted the marble balustrades. She preferred the murmur of the sea on the frozen sand to the overheated warmth of the house, glistening with color. The blue light of the moon shimmering over the sea beckoned like a balm to her sore heart.
Tonight, she had wrapped up well in a heavy fur coat and a wool muffler around her neck. The bells of Trinity Church echoed faintly over the water. She tried to picture Jack at his books in New York, but he seemed so far away. An icy tear squeezed out as the wind rustled the frozen beach plum bushes on the bluff behind her. Far away, a mournful train whistle called and then faded away on the wind. She’d heard of men who stowed away on trains. Hopped into empty cars and rode the rails to distant destinations to make new lives and seek their fortune in California. What must that be like, to board a train with only the clothes on your back and a small sack of possessions?
She sighed. Soon she must go in. Her parents were hosting another dinner party to introduce the duke to more of New York society. The day after Christmas, Mama’s wedding planning would begin. She winced at the thought. Marriage to the duke meant she would be living in England. What would life without her mother be like? At least Lindy would be able to choose her own gowns, even if she hadn’t been permitted to choose her husband.
“Help me, Father,” she whispered. “Don’t allow me to become bitter.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, the wind blew them away.
***
The duke stood next to Lindy as they awaited the arrival of the dinner guests. “You’re looking fetching tonight. Is that a Worth design?”