Crown of Beauty

by Cecily K Wolfe

  She stood back a few feet to allow the footman to assist Josie into the carriage first, and watched as her sister-in-law spoke kindly to him, wondering if all the times she herself had taken that hand and looked straight ahead as if the hand was no extension of an actual person had mattered to him. She knew some of the servants’ names and was more familiar with the younger ones, like Harry, but there was, of course, still a distance between them. She didn’t mean to be dismissive, but was often in her head, thinking of something she had just read, or imagining what some of the places she wanted to visit looked like. Her brother had traveled throughout Europe, and something happened to him there that had led to his change in personality, his focus on helping others, and ultimately, his relationship with Josie. Her parents didn’t like to travel, although it was quite the thing, especially with people like the Vanderbilts building a grand boat for such adventures. Hopefully her husband would want to explore with her, perhaps on a traditional honeymoon with an extended trip to foreign lands.

  “Catherine?”

  She was daydreaming again, imagining the London of her current book. Arthur had been there, and she meant to ask him about the sights and sounds of the great city. How different was it from their own New York home? He wasn’t at the cottage very often, and when he was, he seemed to be sequestered with his new wife. She didn’t begrudge their time together, or their happiness, but she wanted to get to know him better. Was it possible for her to have a marriage like the two of them shared, even with an arranged match? She shook herself and reached out to the footman, offering a small, apologetic smile for her slowness. He nodded respectfully, and once she was in the carriage, Josie lifted the edge of a heavy blanket to share with her to ward off the cold.

  “And how was the party last night?”

  Josie leaned a little into Catherine as she asked, and Catherine felt a small jolt of pleasure at the idea that Josie might need her for comfort. No one had really needed her before but Sarah, and it made her feel useful.

  “Oh, the usual. Too much food, gossip, and tearing about.”

  She could hardly believe her own words, but she had found it so easy to speak casually and honestly with Josie. She would never have said such a thing to her mother or any of her mother’s friends. Josie laughed.

  “I wouldn’t know what ‘the usual’ was. It sounds like it could be fun, especially now that there are less people to attend, and perhaps there would be more of an opportunity to get to know each other better.”

  Catherine frowned and shook her head.

  “Oh, I know them well enough. It was just Annie, Harry, and me, trying to keep Sarah from too much trouble.”

  When Josie didn’t respond, Catherine looked down at her, worried that she had said something wrong.

  “I do pray for you, as does Arthur, but at some point Sarah must be more careful. I keep hearing how concerned everyone is about her behavior, and while it’s one thing to enjoy life, there has to be some measure of responsibility for one’s actions.”

  That was the most Catherine had ever heard Josie speak at one time, and she was captivated by Josie’s sincerity and the truth of what she was saying.

  “I don’t mean to tell you - or your sister - what to do, but I don’t want to see her hurt in any way. I see how she is so full of joy just with being alive, with all that surrounds us and the pleasure of being with her friends, but . . . I also know that you are taxed with watching her and making sure that trouble doesn’t find her.”

  Josie shook her head.

  “Looking out for each other . . . I think as a family and friends we are called to do this, and of course, we want to, but that is a lot of responsibility for you to have. She’s quite spirited, and I know that Arthur worries that someone might take advantage of her trust.”

  Catherine thought for a moment, twisting her hands together in her lap, tugging at the pearl buttons on her gloves as she considered Josie’s words. Josie’s hands were under the blanket, and Catherine wondered if she held them to the place under her heart where the child grew, imagining that she probably wouldn’t be able to help doing so herself if and when she was in such a condition, with a mysterious new person inside her, waiting excitedly to meet the baby. It was a strange idea, as she had always seen infants from a distance and considered them, if at all, pale, wriggling creatures who made annoying sounds.

  “What are you thinking, Catherine? You look confused.”

  Josie was smiling at her, amused at Catherine’s daydreaming. It was a bad habit and rude, her mother would admonish her, and she was relieved that Josie didn’t take it as a remark on her company.

  “So much has changed this summer, and it seems like more will happen over the winter as well. There is just a lot to think about.”

  Josie straightened a bit and sighed. Catherine felt stupid. Of course, so much more had happened to Josie over the past few months - marriage and a baby to come, not to mention the shelter she and Arthur had started and maintained, with the change of seasons and stock market difficulties expected to bring more people in need to their doors.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you, and we’re the same age. I still feel like a child in so many ways, and now with all this talk of marriage, and staying here for the winter instead of returning to the city . . .”

  She let her words trail off, her gaze ahead, but as she waited for Josie’s response she felt the smaller girl’s weight against her and looked down, realizing that Josie had fallen asleep, and so quickly. She fought the urge to rest her head atop Josie’s as the carriage rattled through the streets, and Catherine found that she didn’t miss the usual parade that kept Bellevue full and busy each morning, carriages packed together so their inhabitants could view each other. It was quieter now, and she found that she enjoyed this Newport much more, even as she knew that the freezing temperatures and dark days of winter were ahead.

  When the carriage came to a stop and Catherine heard the horses shuffling and making restless noises, settling down as the coachman directed, she heard her brother’s voice beyond the closed door. He might not have expected Josie, but he certainly paid attention to the arrival of the carriage, as he did each visitor to First Steps. Josie stirred at the sound of her husband’s voice, and Catherine watched a sleepy smile etch itself on the girl’s flushed face. She still didn’t look well, and Arthur would not be pleased to see her out and about.

  The footman pulled the door open, but Arthur stood by, peering in, and offered a hand and a cursory smile to his sister. Once Catherine was standing beside him, she watched as his attention focused completely on his wife, his hand keeping hers as she stepped down, and Catherine looked away, sure that the look that passed between them was private. She wondered if she and her future husband would ever care for each other in such a way. It wasn’t necessary, she knew, and was probably the exception rather than the rule. She couldn’t imagine Sarah with a man who couldn’t keep up with her, a man who didn’t exact her attention and affection, without it stifling her personality, and worried more for her than for herself. Catherine knew that no matter what happened, she could find time with a book, although she had been curious about the comfort her brother and Josie seemed to find in God, just as they threw themselves into a tiring, time-consuming endeavor that focused on helping others while embarking on their own personal adventure with marriage and a new family.

  “Thank you for coming out with Josie.”

  Arthur was at her side now, his hand on her elbow, his other arm holding Josie close against him. Josie had kept a smile on her face, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and Catherine, worried for her, did as Josie had asked and spoke an awkward little prayer in her head, simply asking that God take care of her and the baby. Arthur tugged gently at her arm, and Catherine blinked at him, still in thought.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. It was, it is, no trouble to come visit. You know we don’t have many social calls to make anymore, and besides, I like getting to know my n
ew sister better.”

  Josie’s smile became a little shy, but at this, her eyes lit up. Arthur smiled broadly and Catherine was surprised at how pleased she was with herself for earning his approval. She wasn’t a little girl, and yet she felt as if she had missed out by not having the opportunity to spend more time with him as they were growing up. They were close enough in age, she considered, that they might have had more playtime together, but unlike other families of their acquaintance, they had been separated for education and social opportunities very young, and Arthur had always kept to himself. She wondered if he had ever smiled at her as he was doing right now, and she found herself wanting to see that smile more in the future.

  “Would you like a tour of First Steps? I don’t want Josie to tire herself, but I think we can show you what we’ve been working on the past few months. Are you interested?”

  Catherine nodded, just as she wasn’t quite sure how interested she was in homeless or poor people, or what condition they might be in. She certainly felt sorry for them, but her parents donated money for their support, and she didn’t really feel as if she needed to know any of them personally. She wasn’t the sort of person her brother and Josie were, comfortable with conversing with them or even touching them. What a snob I am, she sighed as she thought of the men, women, and families served by the shelter, fed, clothed, housed, even for a brief time, and she knew that she would not only be uncomfortable around them, she would feel guilty for being rich. She didn’t want to deal with that guilt, and besides, it wasn’t a fault to be born into privilege. There was nothing she could do about it, and why would she want to? Perhaps she could offer her time in ways she could help from home, perhaps sewing, or knitting. Yes, she thought, and stood up a bit straighter as she resolved to contribute in some way, I can do that at the very least.

  The very least.

  She followed Arthur and Josie, her brother’s arm still around the younger girl, her satisfaction with herself waning as she realized that the very least was not enough.

  Chapter Five

  Catherine wasn’t sure if she was more ashamed of taking her lifestyle for granted or for feeling the need to have a good wash after walking through the shelter and meeting some of the residents, some there for a few hours and others, sleeping on cots in a room that looked like a small hospital ward until a more permanent situation was found for them. Most of them were men, perhaps between her age and her father’s, and wore clean but worn clothes, so there weren’t actually dirty. Arthur had explained that there were facilities for those who came to use, even if they stopped in just to wash, and if they were staying, they were required to clean themselves and change into clothing provided for them. Donations had been collected since her brother and Josie had started to plan for the shelter that summer, and Catherine recalled how odd it had seemed when Arthur expressed his pleasure in the amount of clothing dropped off at the servant’s entrance for use at the shelter, as well as monetary offerings and pledges to provide food and hygiene items. She hadn’t really seen why it was such an exciting prospect, all these leftover things that would probably be thrown out if not given away, but now she understood the value of what her neighbors, people like her family who had so much more than they could ever need and everything that they wanted besides, saw as unnecessary when it was needed so much by those who had nothing.

  “I’ll see you later this afternoon.”

  Arthur had helped her and Josie both into the carriage as Catherine gathered her thoughts, noticing out of the corner of her eye the small smile the footman wore as he watched Arthur’s careful handling of Josie. All of the servants seemed so pleased for Josie, but not jealous. While Catherine had friends, primarily those since childhood her mother had arranged for her, just as the other girls had play dates and arranged friendships, ostensibly to prevent inappropriate social acquaintances from forming, she knew that if she herself made a marriage match that outshone everyone else’s in their set, there would be envy and nasty gossip to account for her great fortune. As Josie slid onto the bench beside her and they tucked the blanket back over their legs, Catherine was grateful that her parents hadn’t become caught up in the craze to marry their daughters off to titled Englishmen, as so many parents had. While she wanted very much to travel, she couldn’t imagine settling down in a foreign country with no one she knew, with strange customs and expectations. She thought of Consuelo Vanderbilt, who was leaving with her family for travels to exotic places within a month, but, as she had confided to Catherine, she knew her mother was up to matchmaking across the pond, in spite of Consuelo’s desire to attend Oxford to further her education. Catherine wasn’t sure what she would do if she didn’t marry soon, since she couldn’t ask to travel on her own, but she didn’t know if she was ready for all that marriage, especially to a stranger, entailed. She wished she could go back to earlier days when her greatest concern was whether or not her mother would appear at tea time to spend a few minutes with her and Sarah, offering them a chance to win her approval, or when their governess was in a good mood and would allow them to roller skate through the long hallway of the upper floor of their Fifth Avenue home.

  “You look lost in your thoughts,” Josie smiled as she looked up at Catherine, interrupting her trip down memory lane.

  “Roller skating.”

  Her simple and quick reply startled Josie.

  “I’m sorry?”

  Catherine laughed.

  “When we were little, Sarah and I used to roller skate down the hallway in our house in the City. It seems like so long ago sometimes.”

  Josie seemed a bit better than she was earlier, with more color in her cheeks and brightness in her eyes. Catherine wondered if it was just that the sickness came in the morning, as Josie had mentioned, or that spending time with Arthur had done her some good. Probably a bit of both, but Catherine suspected that her brother was the primary cause of the change and felt a surge of pride in him that surprised her. To think that he was married, and about to be a father, and going out of his way to help strangers just as he was beginning this new family - it was as if he had become a different person. If she hadn’t been here to see it all with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed that someone could change so much so quickly, and for the better. Still, she could see the boy in him that used to splash at Sarah and her when their governess had taken them to the beach as children, on those rare occasions when they were allowed to play together, and the mischievous look in his eyes when he had encouraged them all to eat ice cream and waffles just for the fun of it. Meanwhile, he was spending his days with unwashed men who came in off the street, their bellies growling and their hopes dashed by some misfortune.

  “What was it like?”

  Oh, she really had to stop daydreaming. Poor Josie was looking at her, and Catherine wondered what sort of expressions must have crossed her face as she was thinking of so many different things.

  “What was what like? I’m sorry, my mind is wandering so much lately.”

  Josie’s hands moved under the blanket and Catherine could see that she was resting them on the flatness of her belly. Once a woman was visibly with child they usually were not seen so much in public, but Catherine thought that Josie might defy convention and continue her life as she wished, which wouldn’t please Catherine’s mother. What was so terrible about seeing a woman in that condition, she wondered. She couldn’t ask her mother, that was for certain.

  “Roller skating. Is it difficult? Did Arthur play at it as well?”

  “It takes some practice, but Sarah and I skated since we were very small, and there wasn’t anything for us to crash into except the walls, the floor, and more often than not, each other.”

  Josie laughed, and she looked very much like a little girl herself then. Catherine could not have been more pleased to have her for her brother’s wife, in spite of her initial consternation at the idea of their maid, of all people, marrying into the family. It was something else of which she felt ashamed, but she kne
w Josie held nothing against her.

  “But Arthur didn’t skate. Sometimes he was allowed to come to the beach with us when we were here, but I think we were always the annoying little sisters to him. Usually he was with other boys, families chosen by my mother who were fit to be in his company, and I have to admit that I don’t know him all that well. He was gone for what seemed a long time, and when he returned he was troubled, sad. And then he met you.”

  Catherine heard herself go on and wondered why she was talking so much, and about such personal matters. But Josie would want to know about her husband, wouldn’t she? Catherine watched Josie carefully, holding herself back from apologizing for speaking so plainly.

  “He is a better man because of you, and I know we are all thankful for that.”

  “All of you?”

  Josie smiled conspiratorially.

  “I just hope your mother doesn’t figure out that she is to have a grandchild before Arthur can tell her the news himself. He is having trouble finding the right time when he can tell both of your parents.”

  Catherine frowned.

  “Do you think she will be able to tell? I certainly couldn’t. You don’t look any different, just . . . tired.”

  She didn’t want to say anything negative about Josie’s appearance, but Josie didn’t seem offended. Catherine wondered if Josie had a stronger disposition than she did for such a thing, a statement that could be taken as an insult, but even if she did, it still wouldn’t be right not to clarify that she didn’t mean to cause harm.

  “My mother knew right away, and while I think she has the advantage, working with young children and families so much, perhaps many women who have had children notice something of themselves or their own experiences in others. It seems that we are more likely to be ill with a child if our mothers were, and my mother told me some time ago that she had been. I don’t imagine your mother has spoken to you of such things, has she?”