Crown of Beauty

by Cecily K Wolfe

  Will opened his mouth, then shut it again.

  “There’s no reason he can’t do both, is there? After all, I’m not dead yet!”

  His uncle laughed and Will blinked. He couldn’t be imagining this. He just couldn’t.

  “As far as the Davenport girl goes . . . in that, I wish you luck. Her brother is a fine judge of character, and he must have known that you were not entirely truthful.”

  “It was old Davenport who figured it out, wasn’t it, after the young one thought he recognized you? Well, that’s all done now, and no harm done.”

  No harm done? His uncle was so brash in his mood swings, from his tearful welcome upon seeing Will the day of Van Alden’s party to his willingness to forgive and forget, as well as to laugh at Will’s fears, when it was incredibly serious and important to Will. How could it be so easy for Uncle Will to look past his lies, and to trust him now and in the future, especially if he would split his time between working with Van Alden and helping with the family business back in the City? His uncle had to face the backlash of Will’s very public drunken displays, and if he thought there was no harm done when it came to Will’s relationship with the Davenports, he was sorely mistaken.

  “I appreciate the chance at a fresh start, with both of you, and I will do my best not to let you down.”

  They smiled at him, but as Will saw his uncle’s mouth start to move, he held up a hand and nodded.

  “Please, let me explain about Arthur and Catherine.”

  He swallowed hard, hoping he could find the right words to express his feelings for those who had helped him most, when he was a nameless, penniless stranger with nothing to offer either of them.

  “Arthur gave me the benefit of every doubt, from the moment I showed up at First Steps. Catherine was there that night, and I knew the moment that I saw her that she would become someone important to me. I’ve disappointed them gravely, and it hurts to know this. I have to make this right with both of them before moving on. Arthur’s respect means so much to me, and Catherine . . .”

  “A Travers-Davenport alliance would be a fine thing, William. A fine thing, indeed.”

  His uncle’s encouraging words were supported by Van Alden’s nod. If only Catherine thought the same. If only he hadn’t lied to her from the beginning. When the invitation to the Davenport New Year’s Eve ball arrived, he would accept it with hope, with the intention of throwing himself, literally if necessary, at Catherine’s feet, determined to beg for forgiveness as he offered her the truth, daring to wish for more if, as he prayed, the Lord willed it so.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Against her better judgment, Catherine had kept the white rose that Annie had tucked into her hair at the Van Alden party in a drawer of her dressing table. She didn’t look at it often, but today, as she thought of how the time had at first crept by then began to return to a busy pace with the planning of their own ball, she touched it gently, wondering if he had seen it that night in the brief time they had been together.

  “She has to let me wear it tonight; she couldn’t be so awful as to deny me yet again!”

  Sarah and that purple dress. Catherine wished she had such a problem rather than the one that kept her thoughts so occupied over the past few weeks.

  “Catherine, can’t you say something? Maybe she’ll listen to you.”

  As if their mother had ever done such a thing.

  “It will be there for future parties, and it isn’t as if you have nothing else to choose from.”

  Her sister groaned theatrically and stomped from the room.

  “You do look a bit better today, if I may say so, Miss Catherine.”

  Becky peeked in quickly as if she was looking for Sarah, and commented quickly, vanishing before Catherine could respond. Catherine smiled.

  “She has her work cut out for her, that one. Oh, I don’t mean to speak badly of Miss Sarah, but she’s keeping us both busy.”

  Catherine’s smile faded and she turned in her chair to face Annie, who was folding stockings behind her as they had been discussing the merits of one gown over the other for the event that evening.

  “I thought she hadn’t been out lately.”

  Annie shook her head.

  “She’s restless, and Becky says she means to see some of her friends. New friends, if you can call them that. Not young ladies like yourselves, at least we don’t think.”

  “I’ll have to keep watch over her tonight, which I should do anyway. Our parents will be very busy with so many guests, and I don’t feel like socializing any more than I have to.”

  Grace had sent her a note through Arthur only the day before, when the shelter had been busy and Catherine had sent some cookies in that she and Rachel had made that morning. She missed working with Grace, but she knew that it was best she stayed home and away from any chance of seeing Will. Perhaps she would be able to visit once she was married, if her husband didn’t object to charity work on her part. She would have to make it clear that the shelter was important to her, and helping her brother with his efforts was an integral part of her happiness. Surely, if the Vanderbilt boy was the man her parents thought he was, he would accept this and allow her to spend her time as she wished.

  “I’ll be close by, as always, in case you need me. For whatever reason.”

  Catherine reached out and took Annie’s hand, squeezing it lightly as Annie stared, blinking in surprise.

  “Thank you, Annie. I appreciate it.”

  “But I won’t ever get to wear the purple! If I can’t wear it to my own party . . .”

  Sarah’s voice carried through the slightly open door, and Catherine heard the sharp click of her mother’s footsteps approaching.

  “Really, all this fuss over a gown. I never would have dreamed of talking back to my mother when I was a young lady.”

  Her mother breezed in, glancing quickly at Annie, who bobbed a short curtsy and backed away, returning to the pile of stockings on Catherine’s bed.

  “Leave us for now, Annie. I will let you know when you are needed.”

  Annie didn’t look at Catherine as she walked quickly away and out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

  “I’m going to let her wear it. She’ll draw even more attention from the boys than she usually does, but hopefully it will be the right attention.”

  Catherine watched her mother step over to her bed and sit down on it, mindlessly touching the silky stockings Annie had left scattered about.

  “I know you both aren’t children any longer, but I don’t wish for you to get hurt. Clearly I haven’t been able to protect you successfully, but perhaps I will be able to do better by her. I always thought she needed more guidance than you did, as you’ve always been more attuned to propriety and accepting of what your father and I thought was best for you.”

  “Mother, I . . .”

  “Please let me speak, Catherine. I don’t apologize. Well, rarely, to speak the truth. I am trying to do that now. I have counted on you to guide Sarah, while you really needed your own time to yourself, to spend on your own interests, which, from what I hear, tends towards baking.”

  Catherine was relieved to see her mother smile. It was true; her parents and Sarah were pleased and impressed when she had helped with the cookies that cold day not so long ago.

  “Whatever Rachel may have told you, I hope you will be discreet. Gossip is not kind, and if I worry over it, it is for good reason.”

  Wait, Catherine thought. Her mother thought she would tell someone about Rachel’s past?

  “I would never. Mother, how could you even think that of me?”

  Her mother smiled and nodded as if she was satisfied.

  “Just the response I hoped to see. And now, as difficult as you may find it, I wish to speak of William Travers, who will, undoubtedly, be here tonight.”

  Catherine turned away from her mother and found her gaze caught on the one of the porcelain dolls resting on a shelf on the wall. If she could only be
an empty and cold as that doll, just for one evening.

  “Catherine. The way your mind wanders . . . you certainly don’t get that from my side of the family.”

  “I’m sorry. I am listening, but I don’t know what you want me to do. I don’t plan on seeking him out. Honestly, I can’t imagine facing him at all, with everyone knowing what has happened between us.”

  “What is it that everyone knows, Catherine? From what I hear, you were working at the shelter and he was one of many clients with whom you interacted. If anyone says otherwise, they will have to deal with me directly.”

  Will must not have said anything, and she could see why he would not have wanted to, but everyone saw them at the Van Alden party, hadn’t they? Of course there was the kiss, but perhaps Jeannette had not spoken of it.

  “Nothing happens under this roof of which I am not unaware, Catherine,” her mother said, as if reading her thoughts. “And the flush in your cheeks only verifies my suspicions.”

  “Mother!”

  “Still,” her mother continued as if Catherine hadn’t spoken. “He will be here, and if what your father says continues to be true, he will wish to speak with you. I don’t know if this is a good idea or not, but I have heard that he has been busy with his family’s business as well as Van Alden, and working with your brother. Mrs. Van Alden says that he is determined to prove that he had changed from the boy who spent his summer in his cups, and I think his time in Newport can attest to that. However, Mrs. Van Alden says that he speaks of you often, and that he spends what little free time he has reading her Bible, perhaps looking for guidance.”

  “I . . .”

  “I am not finished. Look at me.”

  Catherine could still feel the heat on her face, but her mother’s words, spoken so matter of factly, made her insides churn with unease. Her mother was watching her carefully, and she schooled her expression into one of attention.

  “You know now that I believe in second chances, but also offered with care. I do not know this young man, but I do know Mrs. Van Alden and respect her judgment. I also value that of your brother, in spite of our disagreements, and he has been most adamant about the subject. As I said earlier, you and Sarah are no longer children, and I believe you should have a say in your future to a reasonable extent. I will be honest and say that without his fortune, or at least what remaining portion there is of it, I would not be speaking like this. I would not see you throw yourself into a life of poverty for the idea of love.”

  “The idea of love? Mother, I know I love him, that isn’t even a consideration. At least, I love the Will I thought he was. I feel as if someone died, but that Will never even existed. I don’t know if I can trust William Travers like I trusted Will.”

  Sarah’s impatient voice, followed immediately by Becky’s comforting one, was audible once again in the hall not far from Catherine’s room.

  “I will go tell her she can wear the purple, and stop all this racket. You, my dear, may wish to think on this boy you think was never real. Perhaps a part of him was.”

  Her mother touched her cheek briefly before leaving the room, Sarah’s voice louder as her mother opened the door, then more distant after she closed it. She knew the moment her mother told Sarah that she could keep the dress on, because Sarah screeched wildly. Her mother’s steps remained firm and even on the stairs afterwards, however, as if she had not just made her youngest child happy with the power of a word.

  Annie’s return was either preternaturally quiet or Catherine was caught up in the meaning of all her mother had just said, but it was most likely the latter.

  “Are you well, Miss Catherine?”

  The girl’s face was concerned, her gaze wondering as she met Catherine’s eyes in the mirror. Catherine nodded.

  “I’ll wear the gold silk, Annie, and however it pleases you to do my hair.”

  Annie nodded in return, but she could see that Catherine was unsettled.

  “Is there something else, miss?”

  Catherine bit her lip, then took a deep breath.

  “Could you possibly find a way to get me a single white rose?”

  Will and Arthur had been working side by side uncomfortably, again, and Will knew that Arthur had plenty on his mind along with his mother’s party that evening. Arthur and Josie would be returning to Conte de Fée next month, and that brought all manner of concern, which Will knew he couldn’t possibly understand. Still, Arthur wasn’t openly hostile at the moment, and Will thought that even if this lack was because of all that Arthur was thinking of, he would take a chance at mentioning the upcoming festivities, along with the possibility that he might have a moment to speak with Catherine.

  “My parents still expect her to marry Vanderbilt, I’ll have you know, and they won’t take kindly to you upsetting her again.”

  Will couldn’t have been more surprised if Arthur had slapped him.

  “Oh, well, I only wanted to say that I’d like to tell her that I’m sorry. Nothing more.”

  Arthur looked up from his effort to stack another box of donated supplies onto the several that had been arranged in the corner of the room. The weather and holidays would bring more visitors to First Steps, and Arthur wanted to be prepared, especially as he would be at his parents’ party that night and didn’t want his employees and volunteers, who were willing to spend the New Year’s Eve and morning at the shelter, to be without whatever they might need for themselves or their new clients.

  “My father told me he spoke with you, and after talking with him myself and praying about it, I understand that I may have passed a hard judgment on you. Don’t think this means I approve of what you’ve done, and especially how you’ve hurt Catherine.”

  Will covered his face with his hands, but only for a moment.

  “I need to tell you the truth. The entire truth. Do you want to hear it, or would you rather not concern yourself with me any longer? I would understand if you didn’t.”

  Arthur leaned over the box and looked down for a long time, longer than Will thought it would take him to decide.

  “God will have to grant me an open heart and mind as I listen, for I know I am biased against you after seeing Catherine struggle over the past few weeks. But I will listen. I will always listen to anyone who wishes to speak with me.”

  With relief and trepidation, Will began to talk, and the two young men sat among the boxes in the darkening afternoon as Will confessed everything.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The impossibility of finding Catherine in the rush of people was even more obvious tonight than it was at the Van Alden party, as so many more guests were in attendance at the Davenport event. Was there anyone left to celebrate in the City, Will wondered, or were they all dancing and eating here?

  His talk with Arthur had eased his mind, promising that the relationship between the two of them could be mended, but paramount in his thoughts, as always, was Catherine. While he had wished for time alone at the Van Alden party to share every detail of his life with her, the lies, the truths, the reasons behind it all, it only mattered now that he spoke the most important words to her, even if others were close enough to hear those words.

  I’m sorry.

  I love you.

  It was all he needed to say, but it was everything that was in his heart. He had spoken with his uncle yesterday and had plans to visit his father’s office later that week to help with loose threads as much as he could, but his uncle would remain the primary caretaker of his father’s property, or what was left of it, just as he had been since his father’s death. Will knew so little of these matters, and it didn’t seem right to suddenly attempt to take over when it hadn’t felt like his domain in the first place. His own visits to the City since his uncle had found him had been so few, and his wish, as well as his heart, remained here in Newport.

  “Oh, if it isn’t Mr. Travers! How lovely to see you! Where have you been keeping yourself, sir?”

  A smiling young lady and three of her
equally enthusiastic friends had surrounded him, and one threaded her arm through his, tugging at his elbow.

  “Don’t you want to dance, Mr. Travers?”

  No, he didn’t want to dance, not really, but he wondered if he should in order to blend in. He sighed and let the girl pull him into the flow of movement that immediately swept them along. He hadn’t been a fan of dancing since his mother forced him into lessons, as all boys of his station were expected to learn, and the swell of bodies that pressed against him and his nameless, rather forward partner did not improve his impression of the activity.

  “They say you only have eyes for Catherine Davenport, but you’re never seen together. I am sure I have the same charms, if not more. Don’t you agree?”

  How could he respond to such a statement?

  “Oh, you’re speechless. I must say that it’s so nice to meet a gentleman who doesn’t talk about himself all the time, although there would be a lot for you to talk about, wouldn’t there?”

  His mind went blank when he saw Sarah, resplendent in a deep purple dress that made her look like a classic painting. Other heads swiveled to see her as well, but his stare was for her sister, who surely would follow Sarah, and after a brief moment when Sarah stopped to smile brilliantly at a group of giggling girls, Catherine appeared. She was incomparably regal in a gown of gold silk, the shoulders in folds of darker gold that mimicked the style of her hair. He hadn’t realized that he had stopped dancing until his partner slapped him teasingly on the arm.

  “It’s not very polite to stare like that, especially when you’re supposed to be paying attention to me.”

  He didn’t want to look away from Catherine, who was smiling serenely at no one in particular, staying as close to Sarah as she could in the crush.

  “I am sincerely sorry, but I must take my leave of you.”

  He bowed slightly before turning away.

  “It’s true, then, that you’re in love with her?”