She Walks in Beauty (2 page)

Aunt had spent much of her life mourning the loss of her husband, a man whose ghostly presence was best represented by the unrelieved black of deep mourning Aunt had chosen to clothe herself in for as long as I could remember. Her eyes deflected to her lap for a moment. “Affliction is the only thing one should expect from life.” She closed her eyes, sighed again. Then opened her eyes. “And speaking of expectations, I expect that you’re educating your Lizzie in the social obligations of her debut. Next year.”

Mrs. Barnes inclined her head. “As I am sure you are cultivating the finer attributes of your young niece.”

Being talked about while present created the odd circumstance of trying to pretend one was absent. I tried not to move, not to breathe. For her part, Lizzie looked as if she were trying to do the same.

In the meantime, Aunt nodded. “Of course. Certainly. There is so much to be taught and so much to be learned that it’s a wonder none of these girls wait until the age of twenty to come out.”

“Indeed. They say age begets great … wisdom.” Mrs. Barnes’s tone, however, gave every indication that she did not agree with
them
. “Would you care for some refreshment?”

“No. No, thank you.”

“Not even some tea?”

“No. It’s not necessary—”

Mrs. Barnes leaned back slightly and looked over her shoulder. At the movement, the butler appeared at her side. “We will take some tea.”

The butler bowed and left the room, but he returned quite quickly. There was silence for several moments while the tea was passed around. As I sipped from my teacup, I pondered my coming debut with something akin to horror. I hoped Miss Miller’s plan worked. If I went to Vassar next fall, it would preclude any possibility of a debut. But what if she failed? What did I want with dancing and flirting and polite conversation? And how could I ever hope to persuade Father to let me attend university?

I saw Lizzie suppress a smile when I bobbled my cup.

She was the only one who knew just how much I dreaded our coming debut. Just as I was the only one who knew how much she longed for it. Were it not for her devotion and support, were it not for the fact that we would be facing it together, I would as soon perish as present myself to the world at large. I did not have hope enough to believe that I could avoid it forever, not even with dear Miss Miller’s words still ringing in my ears, but at least I would not have to worry about it this season. There would be time enough for all of that next fall.

Mrs. Barnes and Aunt talked on and on about our joint debut.

About how long it would take to have our gowns made, which dances in particular we ought to know. And just how many girls would be coming out with us. I would rather have been up in Lizzie’s room pasting mementos into her scrapbook or listening to her rhapsodize over the latest
Harper’s Bazar
. Or better, in my own room with just Byron to keep me company.

Lizzie made faces at me, which I ignored, while I tried to tempt her cat out from under the sofa by wiggling the toe of my walking boot. It had been known to pounce at the winking buttons once or twice before.

A clock struck the half hour with a merry tinkling.

Aunt put her cup and saucer down on the parlor table and turned to me. “Come, Clara.”

She meant it literally. I gave her my hand and aided her to her feet.

As she made her way out of the room, accompanied by Lizzie’s mother, I felt a plucking at my sleeve.

As I turned back toward the parlor, Lizzie caught my arm with her own and leaned close. “We must meet in the shrub bushes two Thursdays from now. At half past three.”

I nodded. We used to meet there all the time when Mama was still living. She would send a tray out to us with thimbles of tea for our dolls.

Aunt had already reached the front step and was clearly waiting for me. I hastened from Lizzie and said my good-byes to Mrs. Barnes. The coachman helped us into the carriage and then climbed into his seat. Aunt folded her hands on her lap, smiling with a twisting of her lips. “That was quite satisfactory. Except, of course, the tea she forced on us. Who serves tea during an at-home?”

I nibbled at the inside of my bottom lip. The conversation had disturbed me. I did not wish to talk of debuts any more than I wished to think of them. I would think of Vassar instead. Of Vassar and its great halls of learning; of all the marvelous books filled with knowledge that awaited me next fall. Surely Miss Miller could persuade the college of my aptitude for study. Surely she could persuade Father to let me go.

But then Aunt grabbed one of my hands and clasped it between her own, drawing it up toward her chest. “I have made the decision that you will debut this season instead of next.”

2

THIS
SEASON? I pulled my hand from her clutches, though I could not seem to tear my gaze from her face. I’m quite certain my eyes registered all of the horror that I felt. “But I’m not ready! I have … I have
dozens
of things left to learn. And you must know that I’m no good at any of them. And besides—I can’t debut without Lizzie!”

“You can and you must.”

“But you told her mother, you practically
promised
her mother that I would come out with Lizzie
next
year. We’ve already planned it.” And I had been counting on it … if I wasn’t to be allowed to go to Vassar.

Aunt slipped a hand into her reticule. It came out with a square of newspaper caught up between her fingers. She extended the scrap to me. “Read this.”

T
HE
N
EW
Y
ORK
J
OURNAL
—S
OCIETY
O
CTOBER 1, 1891

It has just been discovered that Franklin De Vries, heir to the De Vries fortune, and his brother, Harold, will soon be returning from their Grand Tour. Having embarked upon their journey last year, the pair has scandalized England, terrorized France, and appalled Germany. As well as having bought up half of the treasures of Europe, they have also depleted many of its cellars. It is not yet known what awaits those terrified Italians who will soon receive them in Rome. We fear the Continent will never be the same. Travel well, young Knickerbockers! A sparkling social season awaits your arrival!

Aunt was shaking her head as I looked up from the article. “Knickerbockers—those brothers are descended from some of the city’s finest Dutch settlers … though younger sons always do seem to get the elder ones in trouble. I am sure it’s for that reason they’re to come back. But it was this very thing for which I have been waiting.” She bared her teeth in a grin, which made her look very much like one of her dogs.

I returned the paper to her.

The carriage came to a stop in front of our house and Aunt stepped out. “The De Vries heir is returning and that changes everything. You must have him.”

“But Mother and Mrs. Barnes were the best of friends! It was her greatest wish that—”

“You be married. And it is your father’s greatest wish that you marry into money—De Vries money. We lost everything to the De Vries family once, he and I, and we’ll not be placed in that position again. They owe us the heir, even if they don’t yet realize it. We’ve been counting on you to restore the Carter family’s honor. And you shall.
If
you listen to me and let me help you.” She turned her back to me and started up the front steps.

Restore the family’s honor? Me? A wave of nausea broke over me. I hadn’t realized … but … but of course I would restore the family’s honor. Such a grave obligation was worth even a debut. But there was still one very important detail that Aunt hadn’t yet seemed to comprehend. I hurried to follow her, tripping on my skirt. “I cannot debut without Lizzie.”

“And I cannot account for your contrariness! Brother and I may have approached high society, but we were never truly granted entry. You, my dear girl, shall have it all.”

“But—”

“Anyone with any sense would be overcome with joy at such news.”

But that was just it. In the grand scheme of New York City’s high society, I truly was nobody. I could not see how any reasonable person would expect me to be able to catch the De Vries heir. And Aunt was speaking as if I had already caught him.

Miss Miller found me in my bedroom as the maid was helping me change gowns. “I have prepared a science experiment for us.”

I did not answer, but sat on a chair to have my shoes unbuttoned.

“Science is one of your favorites.”

I’m afraid that when I looked up at her, it was with misery in my eyes. “Aunt just told me I’m to debut this coming season.”

“Yes. Next year. Which is why science and learning are so important. There is a whole world awaiting your arrival, whether it be at college or the finest ballrooms in the city. You must expand your capacities in every way in order to meet all of its challenges.”

“No.
This
year. I’m to debut this year.”

“This year? But that’s ridiculous! You aren’t ready. And you’ve only just turned seventeen.”

“Which is what I told her.”

The tiniest of creases appeared between Miss Miller’s eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “She’s mistaken. I’ll speak to her. Your debut has always been planned for your eighteenth year.” She paused and gave me a pointed look. “And we’re behind in preparing you. I fear I’ve put aside instruction on social refinements in favor of intellectual accomplishments.”

“Which is why we’ve gotten on so well!”

Miss Miller smiled. “Yes. But you’re going to have to promise to exert extra effort next year when we put aside your books for dancing and conversation classes.”

“I will.”

She raised a brow.

I sighed. “I promise.” Now there would be no getting around it. But I can’t say that I was sorry to have been able to put off those miseries for another year. In truth, Miss Miller had been postponing my social education for quite some time. At my own urging. Lizzie had been taking dance classes and voice lessons for several years now. But why should I have put aside my real studies—mathematics, and Italian, and Latin—for dancing lessons and lectures on proper comportment? They couldn’t be so difficult as geometry to learn. And I still had plenty of time in which to do it … if Miss Miller was indeed correct.

Later, after we had completed the experiment, we returned to my room so I could record it. Afterward, Miss Miller excused herself and called the maid to help me dress for dinner. But as I came down the stairs on my way to the dining room, I saw my governess being shown to the door. By Aunt herself.

Miss Miller was carrying a valise, and she had on traveling clothes. But it didn’t seem as if she wanted to leave. “I must protest!” she cried.

Aunt took her by the arm and pulled her forward toward the door. “Protest all you’d like. The matter has been decided.”

“I may have delayed Clara’s social education a little bit, but—”

“A little bit? You haven’t educated her at all!”

Miss Miller wrested her arm away and set her valise on the floor. “You have to understand—she’s so very bright. To have thrown away these last few years to focus on dancing and etiquette? It would have been a travesty!”

“A travesty? The travesty is that she faces her debut in less than two months and she isn’t even prepared for it!”

“But you must be pleased with the progress she’s made. Mount Holyoke would be delighted to have her. And I took the liberty of writing to Vassar College on Clara’s behalf just last week.”

“Vassar? College? What do you think it is that Clara is destined for, Miss Miller?”

“She could do anything she wants. Great strides are being made in science and … and … medicine—”

Aunt gestured to the doorman to pick up Miss Miller’s valise. “I’m sure that’s all very true, but there’s only one great stride Clara’s father and I expect her to make: the one to the altar.”

“But really, Mrs. Stuart!” Miss Miller put a hand out to clutch at the handle of her bag.

The doorman didn’t seem to know quite what to do.

With a valiant tug, Miss Miller reclaimed her bag and secured the handles between both of her fists. “The days of young girls being rushed into marriage are over.”