Duchess by Design: The Gilded Age Girls Club

by Maya Rodale

  “But people, good people, are counting on him to marry an heiress,” Adeline explained. “He is indebted. There is some problem with the roof.”

  “People are counting on him to provide, yes,” Miss Burnett said. “But there are other ways than marriage. Your duke is—or was, until very, very recently—extremely old-fashioned. One might invest in businesses or start one’s own. One might economize. My point is that he has options, whether he chooses to see them or not.”

  “Besides, you might soon have a fortune of your own, Adeline,” Miss Lumley pointed out. “If your shop continues its current trajectory of success. Dare to consider that you might save him.”

  The thought had never even crossed Adeline’s mind. For, as Dr. Babcock said, who had gone before her to set the precedent and open her eyes to the opportunities? What seamstress had ever saved a duke before? Not one she knew.

  “But I’m just some girl from the tenements . . .”

  “You are not just some girl from the tenements,” Miss Burnett said sharply. “You are a woman with admirable ambition who dares to follow her dreams and supports her fellow womankind while doing so. You might be a woman from the tenements, Adeline, but you are not just some girl.”

  Handkerchiefs. Pockets were excellent for keeping handkerchiefs on hand, which was proving to be very necessary lately.

  One by one, the ladies of the club punctured Adeline’s reasons for refusing the duke and exposed them as the excuses that they were.

  “What are you afraid of, Adeline?” It was Miss Lumley who gently asked the question that got to the heart of the matter.

  “I am afraid of losing my independence. I am afraid of disappointing everyone who is counting on me. I am afraid of giving up my dreams.”

  It occurred to Adeline as she spoke, that she and the duke were not in very different positions at all. But he had sought and found a way that allowed them to be together without requiring him to sacrifice what mattered to him. It just may have looked a little different from how he had imagined it.

  But Adeline was still struggling with the weight of her past, the things she had seen her mother endure, the things she was determined to avoid at all costs.

  “It’s like Miss Goldman said at that speech,” Adeline said. “Marriage and love are incompatible. She said marriage makes a woman a parasite and absolutely dependent. I have seen my mother—”

  “Miss Goldman says that is true when a woman marries only for financial support, as the world so often compels women to do,” Miss Burnett answered. “But a woman like you, with means of her own, has the liberty to marry for love. So the only question to consider is this: Do you love the duke?”

  That was the question.

  Did she love him? Yes, of course. Completely, wholly. That was never in question.

  Could she believe that a man like him loved a girl like her—just some girl from the tenements? Whether mere seamstress or esteemed dressmaker, she had seen the way he looked at her with love and lust shining in his eyes. She knew the way he spoke to her, the way he touched her. Yes, he loved the girl she was and the woman she was becoming.

  Now that she thought about it, the question was not if she loved him, but if she was willing to take the greatest risk of her life on love. Would she let her fears hold her back from a lifetime of happiness?

  Was she a coward?

  She had never thought of herself as a coward.

  She was just a girl from the tenements who had gotten herself here, taking tea with the finest, most powerful ladies she’d ever known. All because she had courage, seized opportunities, and took the risk every time. So why on earth would she not reach out for this dream—of a life full of love—with both hands?

  Just as Adeline was ready to leap to her feet and dash out the door—she had to find him! Stop him from leaving!—the clock struck four o’clock.

  Four aching blows to her heart.

  It had been widely reported that his ship would be leaving at four o’clock.

  Today. Tuesday.

  “It doesn’t matter now. It is too late. His ship is departing now,” Adeline said numbly. Glumly. Dumbly. Gone.

  She pictured him standing on deck, the wind tousling his hair as he watched the Manhattan skyline get smaller and smaller until the ship sailed well out of view and true love sailed out of her life forever, because of the one time she had doubted herself and questioned love.

  “Pity that. I would have enjoyed a romantic scene.”

  “Oh yes,” another woman gushed. “Where he strides in, sweeps her off her feet . . .”

  “And a good, groveling speech. Anything can be forgiven with a good grovel,” Miss Neville said.

  “I thought this was a business club,” Adeline said, perplexed at all this talk of love and romance. “A placement agency, of sorts.”

  “It is, of course. But why should a woman have to choose between love and professional success?” Miss Lumley said. “Between marriage and work. Business and pleasure. Why can a woman not have both?”

  “Have we not told you our motto?” Miss Burnett asked, smiling. “Love, liberty and happily ever after.”

  Meanwhile . . .

  Kingston dashed out of the hotel. There was no time to lose. He sprinted down Fifth Avenue, not caring at all about the scene he was inevitably causing as he twisted and turned around slow-moving pedestrians and leapt out of the way of oncoming carriages.

  His heart was pounding hard in his chest. It was not merely because of the exertions.

  It was something a man’s heart did when he was about to take the risk of a lifetime. Again.

  Kingston burst through the shop doors.

  “Where is she?” he asked, out of breath. A few well-dressed women stared at him and began whispering. A shop girl he did not recognize came forward and meekly asked how she might assist him.

  He strolled to the back of the shop, to the workroom.

  “Where is she?” he asked again, to Adeline’s entire staff. “And do not get cheeky and ask which ‘she’ I’m asking about.”

  “We wouldn’t dream of it,” Rachel replied.

  “How can we help you?” Rose asked.

  “Where is Adeline? I need to speak with Adeline.”

  “She just left.”

  “You just missed her.”

  He swore. “Where did she go?”

  They, the lot of them, hesitated. Hesitated!

  “Rose,” he said, turning to the one he knew to be the most inclined in his favor. “You are an avid reader of dime novels and true love conquering all. You wouldn’t deny a dashing hero an opportunity for a dramatic, romantic scene, will you?”

  “Oh you think you’re dashing, do you?” Rachel scoffed.

  “There’s no time to argue the point,” he replied.

  “We could put it to a vote,” volunteered a woman he didn’t recognize.

  “Based on looks alone, or should we request a romantic speech?”

  While the women were debating, a squawk emerged from a corner of the room. Kingston watched as a woman set aside her embroidery work to tend to a newborn baby. Nearby an older woman with old hands and stiff fingers turned to help the new mother.

  He thought she couldn’t possibly do much sewing work with hands like that and yet Adeline employed her anyway. It was then that Kingston took a moment to look around the shop and see, really see: the women all wore a similar uniform of dark gray skirt and crisp white shirtwaist but beyond that were all so different—different colors of their skin, ages, backgrounds. He detected different accents as they debated whether or not to enlighten him as to Adeline’s whereabouts.

  He had no basis of comparison, but Kingston suspected that it was these women—these unlikely to be otherwise employed women—that she was protecting as much as her own dreams.

  “She wants me to marry Miss Van Allen because she has some notion of protecting you all. Not because she is selfish.” He said this aloud for the first time and truly understood it. “She refus
ed me not because she doesn’t love me.”

  “Not just a pretty face, are you?” the old woman said with a grin. “You have the right of it.”

  Kingston began to pace about the bemused women, the tables covered with patterns and expensive fabrics and the mannequins draped in muslin.

  “There must be a way so that we can marry for love without sacrificing our duties to those who rely upon us.”

  “If there is, you should probably discuss it with Adeline first,” Rose said.

  “I would like to. I would very, very much like to.”

  It was Rachel who finally gave him the address.

  25 West Tenth Street

  Adeline was ready to rush to the docks and book passage to England when any thought or action was interrupted by a heavy and incessant pounding at the front door.

  “That doesn’t sound like one of our usual lady callers.”

  “Has anyone misplaced an angry husband?”

  “Open up!” a male voice called out. A British male voice. There were murmurs among the ladies until Adeline said, “I think he might be here for me.”

  “I don’t suppose that is the lovelorn and jilted duke.”

  “Most likely,” Adeline whispered. She couldn’t manage more than that. He was here. Here!

  “I nearby declare that this meeting of the Ladies of Liberty club is adjourned,” Miss Burnett announced. “And the meeting of the Charitable Ladies Auxiliary Club shall commence.”

  With that, all the women wordlessly reached under their sofas, settees, and chairs to withdraw bibles and half-done samplers. Someone even pressed a sampler into Adeline’s hands. It was a stroke of genius—any man who walked in and saw a coven of women stitching and embroidering and bible reading would think nothing of it, would ask no questions, and would take his leave as quickly as possible.

  Except one.

  The butler opened the doors and announced, “The Duke of Kingston would like an audience.”

  The duke strode into the room like every second counted and came to an abrupt stop when he saw the gathering of nearly twenty women seated in a makeshift circle, sipping tea and idly leafing through bibles. It was the very picture of simple, traditional domesticity.

  Yet Adeline’s heart was pounding.

  “Good afternoon, Your Grace,” Miss Burnett said, rising to greet him. His eyes narrowed. “I thought you had a ship to catch.”

  “My plans changed. And I thought you had a meeting.”

  “You are now present for it.” She gestured to the women.

  He nodded his head. He was confused, but still polite. “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?” Miss Burnett asked. He scanned the room and finally, his gaze landed on her. Adeline’s heart continued its heavy pounding in her breast. She was nervous. She was in love. She was curious and optimistic but also utterly terrified. She felt all these things intensely, and all at once.

  “I’m here to see Miss Black,” he said in that low voice of his that sent shivers up her spine.

  “I’m here.” She stood, in a rustle of silk and satin.

  “We didn’t have romantic scene on the list of topics for today’s meeting, did we?” one woman murmured to another.

  “I daresay we’re about to witness one anyway.”

  Adeline watched as his attentions shifted from her to the rest of the women and back to her again. Perhaps he suspected something. He would certainly ask questions later. If they should be so lucky as to have a later. She glanced at Miss Burnett; she smiled and nodded yes. She had their blessing to pursue her love and to live honestly with the duke and perhaps one day she would tell him all about the secret ladies’ society that made all her dreams come true.

  Kingston stood before her, not saying a word, leaving her on tenterhooks.

  “What a small world,” he said finally.

  “How did you find me here?”

  “It so happens that seamstresses are privy to ladies’ secrets and occasionally prone to gossip.”

  And Adeline simply said, “Rose.” Of course it was Rose, that eternally hopeful romantic, who would have directed him here.

  “It was Rachel, actually,” Kingston said, to the surprise of them both. If Rachel had been the one to direct him here, he must have given a very persuasive speech indeed. And that was another blessing of this match that Adeline had badly wanted. She had never wanted to marry and never wanted to sacrifice her independence. She was terrified to risk it. But she rather thought that she could take the risk with Kingston.

  “What brings you here?”

  He smiled like he smiled at her that first day. A rakish smile, his blue eyes sparkling.

  “I must confess that I find you enchanting.”

  Someone in the room sighed. It wasn’t her. But her breath definitely caught. She tilted her head and gave him a coy smile in return.

  “Of course you do.”

  “I see that New York City girls are different from the ones in London.”

  “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” more than one woman murmured. And more than one woman agreed.

  Adeline knew her next line. Every moment of their first meeting written in her heart and permanently etched in her memory. Daydreaming about it endlessly will do that. She also knew that as soon as she said it, the course of her life would alter forever, in ways she had never imagined and probably could not even fathom. But she had the support of her friends and the love of a good man and she had faced more daunting challenges with less.

  She took a deep breath.

  “Well, I suppose I should ask, what brings you to New York?”

  “I am here to get married,” he told her.

  “Congratulations,” she said. “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order. Does your bride know that you are storming into women’s groups unannounced to make dramatic and romantic scenes to a girl you find enchanting?”

  Kingston took a step toward her. It was time to start closing the distance between them.

  “Oh, it’s too soon for felicitations,” Kingston said.

  “Have you not yet proposed?”

  “Not exactly. Not properly. Not as befitting my future duchess.”

  “I suppose it’s too soon for you to have met the right woman.”

  “I don’t know that I’d say that . . .” Somewhere in the room a woman sighed. Or maybe it was Adeline. It was definitely a swoon-worthy moment. She wanted to leap into his arms and declare her undying love for him forever but she equally wanted to savor every second of this moment. It wasn’t every day that the man she loved strolled into one’s life and made devastatingly romantic speeches and proposals.

  Tuesdays. That’s when. Tuesdays.

  “You might have to stay a little longer to meet someone,” she told him.

  “And what if I have met her already?” He lifted one brow in that dashing way that only dukes in novels seemed to do.

  “There you go with the marriage proposals again,” she said with a little laugh and quiver in her voice. She so meant to be teasing but was also just so happy.

  “This time I mean it, Adeline.” He dropped to one knee before her and clasped her hands with his. “Will you marry me?”

  “This time, I’m saying yes.”

  Epilogue

  The Duke of Kingston and his designing duchess are returning to New York City, where their love affair began, to celebrate the opening of her impressive new dressmaking establishment on Fifth Avenue.

  —The New York World

  Ten years later

  Adeline had discovered that all the best things came in threes. For example, there were all sorts of magical strings of just three words. To start: I love you. Adeline woke up to the duke murmuring these three words to her each day and they were the last three words she heard before drifting off to sleep beside him. She said those three words—I love you—constantly to their three children, two boys and a girl.

  The duke had a different
three-word phrase that he derived immense satisfaction from: Return on Investment. His bet on Mr. Van Allen’s Manhattan real-estate project had proven to be a lucrative one, and his investments in those newfangled telephones and electric companies granted excellent returns as well. They even provided enough for the duke to buy back the duchess’s ring, where it now graced her fourth finger, like all the duchesses of Kingston before her.

  The various houses were sold or converted into new things—a hotel, a museum, a home for unwed mothers. There were moments when Kingston felt anguish over the changes he—and time—had wrought, such as when he stood in the library at Lyon House and looked out the window, as his father had loved to do, but instead of a pristine and unspoiled spread of nature, he saw railway tracks leading toward the station. But that change had provided generous dowries so that his sisters could marry for love, which they did. And so his mother could have all the dresses she wished for. She especially delighted in having a dressmaker for a daughter-in-law.

  Another trio of words Adeline found particularly delicious were these: London. Paris. New York. Especially when they applied to her dressmaking establishments, one in each of the three great cities. It was a feat that she managed thanks to Rose and Rachel and other talented young women she trained to oversee the shops, where teams of misfit seamstresses crafted gorgeous gowns with pockets and beautiful dresses in which women felt they could go forth and conquer the world in pursuit of love, liberty, and happily ever after.

  New York City. Those were another three words that never failed to thrill Adeline and the duke, as much as they enjoyed life in London and the English countryside.

  So, when their ship was sailing into New York Harbor, Adeline was on deck to watch the impressive skyline rise up out of the mist. It was different, bigger, grander every time she saw it.

  “It’s your favorite sight in the world, isn’t it?” Kingston murmured in her ear, closing his arms around her. She leaned back against his still firm, well-muscled chest clad in the finest cashmere wool, expertly tailored.