Crown of Beauty

by Cecily K Wolfe

  “Arthur insists that this boy is not for you, and I don’t understand what the fuss is about. If this is the same boy who has no family and no home, who showed up at the shelter with nothing to speak to his identity, I would have to agree. But there’s something more to your brother’s rather intense refusal to permit you to spend time with him.”

  Her mother was, of course, extremely interested in Will and his flowers, which were incredibly beautiful and, as Annie and Becky had pointed out before her mother rushed into her bedroom, not something a boy without money could afford. Still, Catherine had no explanation, other than that Mr. Van Alden was possibly paying Will a wage, from which he could have purchased the flowers. They sat in a vase on her dressing table now, their clean, fresh fragrance filling the room.

  “Catherine Isabella. I’ve raised you to know better than to swoon over a boy because he says pretty things and is pleasant to look at.”

  Pleasant to look at? Her mother hadn’t met Will, but when she did, she would definitely amend her word choice.

  “Arthur doesn’t seem to mind the problem of the boy’s family, or lack thereof, and obviously this is no surprise. Now, before you give me one of your disapproving looks, let me say that I have no trouble with Josie. Let us just leave it at that. Accepting her, however, does not mean I think such a marriage is right for you or your sister. These arrangements are different for ladies than they are for gentlemen.”

  Her mother was standing over her and the two of them were watching each other in Catherine’s mirror, making it impossible for Catherine to hide her expression as her mother admonished her.

  “Don’t frown like that, young lady. Arthur is able to provide for Josie, again, quite obviously, and that must be our primary concern for you and Sarah. Young ladies cannot fend for themselves, and that is a fact of life. This boy who has no home, no money, no claim to any sort of family background - how can he take care of you? Where will you live? You have new gowns from Worth whenever you desire, but do you imagine that he can keep food on the table for you and your children?”

  Catherine felt her cheeks flush and resisted the urge to press the palms of her hands to them. There was no hiding anything from her mother.

  “Mother, please. They’re only flowers. It isn’t as if he has proposed.”

  She watched her mother’s eyes narrow.

  “White roses. Flowers have a language of their own, and white roses speak volumes. If the Van Aldens have a party with him as part of their reason, when they almost never entertain, then he must have some merit. Some merit, however, is not enough for my daughters. I never thought I would have to tell you this, but I forbid you to spend time alone with him.”

  Catherine immediately turned in her chair and looked up at the older woman.

  “What? But Mother . . .”

  Her mother took a deep breath and Catherine saw how upset she was. She had been yelled at plenty of times during her life, but it was when her mother held back, her anger controlled and quiet, that Catherine knew she was the most infuriated.

  “The fact that you protest like this leads me to believe that there is a problem already. I wasn’t sure, but now I know. If we all weren’t going, if it were one of the events for younger people that you and Sarah have been attending all year, I would keep you both home. There will be a lot of guests, and I may not be able to keep you within my sight the entire evening, so I will have to trust you. Can I do that?”

  Catherine looked down at the floor. There was so much she wanted to explain, but she wasn’t sure how she could. Her mother had a point when she spoke of what little they knew of Will, but she didn’t know him. She didn’t know how it felt to have him stand so close to her, or when he smiled at her. When he kissed her only last night. The childhood memory of overhearing her father calling her mother Jenny came to her mind, and she thought that maybe her mother did know, and while this might not be the right time, there could be a time when she could talk to her about her feelings for Will.

  “Yes, Mother. You can.”

  Annie cooed and sighed over the roses way too much as she helped Catherine dress, but Catherine couldn’t bring herself to tell her to stop. No one had ever sent her flowers before, and while she had tried to downplay their arrival to her mother, she knew in her heart that they meant something. Will wouldn’t spend money, which would have been more precious to him than it was to her, or chosen the flowers he did without good reason. The best reason, she thought, smiling at her reflection.

  “Do you love him, Miss Catherine? I would have to love a boy who sent such lovely flowers to me.”

  Catherine laughed and Annie stopped smoothing the folds of her gown to look at her. Did she laugh so little, Catherine wondered, that it was something that surprised her own maid?

  “And if he made me laugh like that, all the better!”

  Annie covered her mouth after she spoke, as if she couldn’t believe what had slipped from it, then both girls laughed together. Annie returned to fussing over the pink satin, which was a rather shockingly bright hue, and Catherine decided that a personal question might not be inappropriate, considering the circumstances.

  “Do you have a young man of your own, Annie?”

  Annie fell forward onto her hands and gasped.

  “Oh, Miss Catherine, the very idea!”

  Catherine shrugged as Annie stood up.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you fall. Why shouldn’t you have a suitor? You’re pretty, and young, and well, you do have a rather entertaining personality.”

  Annie shook her head but smiled as she did.

  “No time for that, and honestly, I haven’t seen anyone who has caught my fancy. I suppose if I did, I would find time, wouldn’t I?”

  Catherine smiled back, and as Annie adjusted the lace fichu around her shoulders, they both heard Sarah and Becky’s approach in the hall.

  “Do you think Mother let her wear the purple this time? Honestly, I don’t even know why she let her buy the gown in the first place, not if she won’t ever let her wear it.”

  Annie nodded in agreement.

  “If I may say so, I am surprised she allowed you this one, but oh my goodness, Miss Catherine, you look like one of your dolls. No one will look so perfect as you tonight.”

  The lace trim at the end of her long sleeves matched her fichu, and the black satin at her waist was a sharp contrast to the bright pink of the gown. She wondered if Will would find her attire appealing, or if he would think it too showy. She hoped he wouldn’t care what she wore, only that she was there, and that they were together.

  She leaned over the vase full of roses and touched the soft petals, remembering the sweetness of the kiss they had shared. Would he be able to talk to her even if they weren’t completely alone, or would her promise to her mother keep him from telling her more about himself?

  There was nothing she could do but pray, pray for patience, guidance, and above all, faith in Will and the possibilities the future held for them both.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  While her father and Arthur continued to shoot each other dark looks and her mother stared at her as if she expected her to perform some sort of trick, Catherine refused to let any of their behavior stamp down the thrill of anticipation that swept through her during the short carriage ride that brought them through the darkness of the early evening, which was not all that dark with the Van Alden estate lit up like the recent World’s Fair in Chicago. Sarah was pressed up against her, pouting because their mother had refused her the purple gown yet again, and she was wearing a soft lavender that contrasted with her dark hair beautifully. Nothing Catherine said mitigated Sarah’s disappointment over the dress, and Catherine wondered if she might be allowed to wear it at their own New Year’s Eve ball. She hadn’t thought that far ahead for herself, as she spent so little time considering what she would wear to which event, since she usually couldn’t wait to get home and read, or, if she was able, find a way out of attending in the firs
t place.

  She thought of the new book Arthur had given her that afternoon, her concern for his visit to her room immediately dispelled when he handed her the volume wrapped in brown paper, as if he hadn’t touched it since leaving the book store. No one had told her what exactly had transpired between her brother and father when they argued over the flowers, if it was in fact an argument over Will’s roses at all. Or Will. Just Will. She wondered when Arthur had purchased the book, and was even more curious as to why he had bought it. She had finished the travel volume, and was sorry to do so, but that had been some weeks ago and she had shared her joy over the lush descriptions with Arthur during their many rides home from the shelter together. Suddenly he had something new, fiction this time, which was not her usual reading material, nor what he would normally suggest. His smile had been polite and his presentation of the book the same, but she wanted to ask why this book, and why was he unhappy?

  The book was on her bed now, left behind but still in her thoughts. Mother wouldn’t approve of fiction, so Arthur was risking her ire. He had faced her down before and for much worse transgressions, including his relationship with Josie. Well, she would take some time to look at it when they were home later, even if she was too tired to read much of it. She suspected that there were reasons her brother had chosen this particular story, and she wanted to figure out what those reasons were.

  “I’m not a child, Mother. Besides, Consuelo and Charlotte have both worn purple this year and . . .”

  Their mother cut her sister off.

  “That will be enough, Sarah. I expect you and Catherine to stay close to the ballroom and as near to me as possible. I understand that it may become difficult while dancing, but under no circumstances are you to leave the room alone.”

  Sarah looked at Catherine and frowned with great exaggeration. Catherine bit her lip to hold back a laugh, but sucked in a breath when she noticed Arthur’s stare.

  “Do you understand, girls?”

  Catherine kept her gaze on Arthur’s as she nodded slowly. She had already made her mother a promise, and Sarah had made one to her. There was something uncomfortable about all these forced promises, and the tension between them all that spoke of the odds that they might be broken.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Catherine answered but Sarah folded her arms over her chest and looked away. Their mother pinched her just above her elbow, quickly, before Sarah realized what was happening, just as she had done when they were children and wouldn’t pay attention.

  “Yes, yes!”

  Sarah whined and yanked her arm away. Catherine knew that the pinch wasn’t meant to hurt, and it didn’t much, but she also understood Sarah’s weariness at being treated like a little girl. Was it wrong for her to wish the drive shorter than it already was, so she could get to Will’s side all the more quickly, even when she knew her sister needed her and her brother was upset?

  She smiled at Sarah and was surprised when her sister returned it with a lukewarm one of her own. Once they arrived, Sarah would find her friends, and cake, of course, so Catherine’s concern was really unnecessary. Arthur, who would most likely focus on talking to potential donors about First Steps, would also keep an eye on Sarah as well as Catherine, and already looked as if he wished to be anywhere else. No, not anywhere. Home with Josie. Soon that home would be back at their house, but until then, wherever Josie lived was where Arthur belonged. Was that what love meant, to find your home in the company of another, to know that they were the one who made you a better person, just as Arthur claimed Josie did for him?

  The carriage that followed them brought Annie, Becky, and Lillian, and Catherine knew that Annie held a single white rose for Catherine to slide into her hair before she walked into the Van Alden home. Her mother would never approve, and they had to find a way to do it without her watching, but she hoped Will would notice, and that he would understand her meaning, just as she understood his by the sending of such an elaborate yet personal gift. Hopefully Lillian hadn’t noticed the flower and taken it. Lillian was devoted to Catherine’s mother, and would interfere if she felt she was doing her mother’s bidding. A chill swept through the carriage as it came to a stop, and Catherine felt herself shudder in spite of the blankets and the warmth of Sarah against her. She slid her hand into her sister’s and squeezed gently, her gesture returned just as quickly, and allowed Arthur to assist her out of the conveyance, smiling in spite of his warning glare.

  Will wanted to scream with impatience. Once the guests began to arrive it didn’t get any better, because he couldn’t focus on greeting them, speaking to them as if he was interested in what they had to say, and smiling as if this whole thing was a pleasure without looking over their shoulders for Catherine. The Van Aldens had wanted him to stand with them, and so he did at first, but his uncle was in all his glory, catching each person not long after they were introduced and singing the praises of God for leading him to his lost nephew, who was the missing Travers heir. Will knew exactly when that last bit of information was imparted, because everyone, without exception, gasped. The first few times he had turned to see what was happening, but after he caught the looks on the guests’ faces, he stopped. This was fodder for every gossip lover’s dreams, and even if it wasn’t meant to cause trouble, talking about everyone else in society was almost impossible if one was to keep conversation moving, or if one wanted to seem knowledgeable. Please, please, God, he prayed silently, closing his eyes briefly. Please let me speak to her before she hears any of this.

  The Davenport carriage didn’t stand out from the others significantly, but he knew it on sight from the many times he had seen it at the shelter. The servants bustled about in front of him at the door, while the Van Aldens spoke, laughing, with guests crowding in from the hall. Will wondered if he could possibly step away and go to the door, to intercept Catherine and her family in such a way as to not draw attention. He could speak to her before she moved on towards his uncle, at least, perhaps draw her away from her parents for just a moment . . . but Arthur would never allow it.

  “You haven’t looked well all day, Will. Would you like a drink, something warm, perhaps?”

  Mrs. Van Alden touched his arm as she spoke, just as he noticed a small gathering of young ladies watching him from the ballroom, giggling behind their hands as they stared openly. If they hadn’t learned that he was the heir to a very old and very important family, regardless of his antics over the past few months and possibly because of them, would they express such interest? Surely not.

  “No, no, I think it’s just that it’s been very busy today.”

  He sighed, his eyes darting behind his hostess, and he felt her hand tighten on his elbow.

  “Are you looking for someone in particular? A young lady, possibly, in spite of your denials?”

  He felt himself stiffen involuntarily, but even as he opened his mouth, he couldn’t speak.

  “Just so. There are so many lovely girls here tonight, but it is my understanding that you have already developed a tenderness for one who has been around since you first arrived in Newport.”

  His eyes closed of their own accord. He was afraid to meet her eyes with his own, and had no idea if she was going to say she approved of his interest or not. If Arthur had mentioned it in order to get her assistance in keeping him away from Catherine, or if she had noticed something on her own . . .

  “You’ve had so much change in your life since the spring, first with your father, and then this journey to us and your memory difficulties, so please be careful. With yourself, and with her.”

  When he finally opened his eyes, she was walking away, and as his gaze shifted to the mass of figures flowing in from the front door, he saw her. The brightness of her gown brought out the pale ivory of her skin, and she looked older than she usually did at the shelter in her simple dresses, her hair pinned back in a practical fashion. She looked polished and shining, like a porcelain doll he couldn’t hope but touch, and Annie must have done so
mething impossibly intricate with her hair, as curls and rolls framed her face delicately.

  “A bit stuffy, that one, but the younger sister’s more friendly-like.”

  A man he had never met, more like a boy in age just as he was, was suddenly at his side, drink in hand. He nodded towards Catherine.

  “But she’s right pretty. No wonder you can’t stop looking. But you’ll have the choice of them, you know. Being a Travers and all.”

  He wrinkled his nose and smiled at Will, but Will could see the envy in his eyes, as well as the start of inebriation.

  A choice was going to be made, it was true, but he wouldn’t be the one making it. Not tonight.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Will could see a white rose just barely peeking out from the complicated design of Catherine’s hair, perhaps visible because he hoped to see something encouraging from her, but as a group of girls, clearly friends of Catherine and Sarah, grabbed at the pair and began wildly gesturing and giggling, their hands alternately covering their mouths then touching the Davenport sisters’ arms, he saw the line of Catherine’s back straighten the slightest bit, a tension that was barely noticeable. Her hands tucked into fists at her sides, and he watched Sarah take the one closest to her in her own gloved hand, squeezing it tight. Sarah leaned into her older sister as if to offer her support, and Will’s heart sank. He knew that his identity, and the community’s new awareness of it, was beyond gossip-worthy, but for these girls to speak of it so quickly, as if it were of such note . . .