The American Heiress

by Daisy Goodwin

  Mrs Cash had wanted to order Cora’s state robes as well, but when she wrote to the Double Duchess about this, Her Grace had replied that ‘robes were never bought, but inherited’. Mrs Cash, who suspected that robes inherited at Lulworth would be as musty and damp-smelling as everything else there, had tried to protest but Mrs Wyndham had taken her aside and told her that damp and mustiness were much prized among the aristocracy as they showed that the title was of an old creation. Only new titles had freshly made robes. Mrs Cash had allowed herself to be overruled but she still could not understand why the British liked things to be shabby. It had taken weeks before she could persuade Wareham to install a proper bathroom for Cora at Lulworth. He had seemed to think there was nothing wrong with a duchess having to wash herself in a copper hip bath in front of the fire. Bertha had heard the whole story as Mrs Cash had unburdened herself to Cora. Cora had laughed at her mother for her American passion for progress but underneath Bertha knew that her mistress was secretly relieved. Cora loved the romance of Lulworth, but Bertha had seen her shiver as she went down for dinner in a low-cut evening dress and her look when she had found ice on the inside of the mullioned window of her bedroom.

  Here in Cora’s bedroom it was pleasantly warm. The Cash house had had the latest steam heating system installed when it was built. Even the servants’ bedrooms were heated. Bertha thought of the draughty attic she had slept in at Lulworth and wondered not for the first time whether her destiny really lay in England, but then she thought of Jim and that night in the stables at Sutton Veney. He had written to her once at Lulworth. It had not been much of a letter, but it was the first letter of a sentimental nature that Bertha had ever received and she carried it with her everywhere tucked round the black pearl.

  Cora was reading aloud again. She was fascinated by all the stories about her wedding in the newspapers. In public it was very bad form to admit that you had read any of the scandal rags but in private Cora devoured them.

  ‘Town Topics has pages about the wedding. It says my departure for Europe broke hearts all over New York and that my marriage will deprive New York society of one of its brightest-stars. “What a pity that one of the greatest heiresses that we have ever produced should take her talents and her fortune abroad to the benefit of some dilapidated English castle, instead of bestowing her beauty and wealth on one of her fellow countrymen. Town Topics has heard that Newport last summer had fully expected Miss Cash to announce a more patriotic match. We can only assume that the ever ambitious Mrs Cash is responsible for her daughter’s change of direction. Mrs Cash has long sought to become the pre-eminent hostess of her day, and having a duchess for a daughter can only bring that day closer.” They couldn’t be more wrong, of course, Mother had nothing to do with my marriage. Why don’t people realise that I have a mind of my own?’

  Again Bertha said nothing. Cora tossed the paper on the floor. Bertha was counting kid gloves, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, there should be fifty pairs. Cora’s gloves never lasted longer than an evening. Skin-tight and so thin that the fingernails were visible through the translucent leather, they took an age to get on and off and Cora would quiver with impatience as Bertha tried to roll them off without damaging them. Most evenings Cora would push her away and rip the gloves off with her teeth. Bertha was used to it but it always pained her, as used kid gloves of this quality fetched 25c a pair at the dress exchange where Bertha went to sell Cora’s cast-offs. Mrs Cash always demanded receipts for the dresses, but the gloves were beneath her notice. Bertha wondered whether there was a trade in kid gloves in London.

  The door opened and Mrs Cash came in carrying a large blue leather box in both hands. Cora did not get up. Since the engagement, Bertha had noticed that Cora was far less in awe of her mother. But Mrs Cash did not appear to notice.

  ‘I am delighted you are back, Cora. I have something to show you.’

  She sat down on the sofa next to Cora and touched the clasp of the blue leather box. It sprang open with a heavy click and from the other side of the room Bertha could see thousands of points of light dance across the ceiling as a ray of light hit the contents.

  Mrs Cash took the tiara out of the box and placed it on Cora’s head. It was a diadem of stars that twinkled against the rich brown of Cora’s hair.

  ‘Thank God you didn’t get your father’s hair, dear. Diamonds are wasted on blondes.’

  Cora walked over to the mirror to see what she looked like, and faced with her reflection she couldn’t help smiling.

  ‘Oh, it’s beautiful, Mother. Where did you get it?’

  ‘I had Tiffany copy one belonging to the Empress of Austria. She has chestnut hair like you. You will need a tiara when you are married and I wanted you to have something light and graceful. I saw some really hideous jewels in London, huge gems but such dingy settings. Really, what is the point of dirty diamonds?’

  Cora turned her head to the side. ‘I feel quite the Duchess when I’m wearing this.’ She made a stately curtsy to her reflection. Her mother reached over and tucked in a strand of hair that had escaped from the tiara. Cora looked at her mother, and was astonished to see that her mother’s good eye was wet.

  Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one. There was a pair of gloves too many. A new pair of gloves would fetch at least a dollar and in Bertha’s opinion, taking what was surplus to requirements was not the same as stealing. Bertha looked up to see if the women were watching her, but they were too absorbed in each other. She took the gloves and stuffed them in her pocket. She might want to get married herself one day.

  Chapter 11

  Euston Station

  TWO WEEKS AFTER HIS MOTHER HAD MADE HER way up Fifth Avenue, Teddy Van Der Leyden found himself making the same journey. But after ten days on board ship, the young man was happy to walk in the bright cold morning. He told himself that it was the exercise he wanted but there was another reason for walking – he needed to think. When he had heard of Cora’s engagement he had felt an immediate, unreasonable sense of loss. He was not surprised exactly by the engagement, such a match had only been a matter of time; what he had not expected was how much he would mind. He heard the news from an English acquaintance in Paris who had been buzzing with the serendipity of it all. Wareham is a lucky fellow, the artistically inclined baronet had said, the American girl fell into his lap, literally. Came off her horse hunting and Wareham found her. A week later they were engaged. Couldn’t have come at a better time for him – Lulworth is a terrible old barn and Wareham had to pay all these death duties, first the father then the brother. But they say the girl, Miss Cash, has pots of money, so she should be able to set all that straight. What, you know her? Is she really as rich as they say? Richer? Wish I’d been in that wood when she had that tumble.

  Teddy drank absinthe that night and spent the next day in a queasy fog underpinned by the feeling that something was badly wrong. It was only in the evening that he realised that it was Cora’s engagement that had brought on this feeling of dread. He had sent her to this and now he didn’t like it. He had gone to London to look for her, to talk to her, but she had already left for New York. He knew, even as he bought his ticket for the SS Berengaria, that it was a mistake – that he had made his choice that night in Newport and now Cora had made hers. But still he carried on. If Cora really loved this duke then he could do nothing, but if she was being forced into a dynastic match by her mother, he would rescue her. He must talk to Cora once before she disappeared into a world of stately homes and coronets.

  He had spent a few days in London in a haze of impatience. Once he knew that the Cashes had gone back to New York, he wanted nothing but to get back to America himself. He had made his way to Euston Station to board the train for Liverpool automatically; he just wanted to be at his destination. But there was one scene that had pierced his numbness: a couple on the platform at Euston, a man and a woman looking at each other with such intensity that Teddy felt almost scorched by it. The woman, he thought, was beau
tiful, he could see the gorgeous curve of her cheek beneath the deep brim of her hat. The man was tall and dark and Teddy sensed there was tension in the square of his shoulders and the set of his jaw. The couple stood there motionless, an island of stillness in the frantic bustle and clamour of the boat-train traffic. They were not speaking, all communication was in their gaze. And then Teddy saw the woman take the man’s hand with a small, almost feral gesture and pull it into the fur muff she was carrying. She looked up at him with challenge in her eyes. The man leant forward stiffly, he whispered something in the woman’s ear. He withdrew his hand from the muff and stood tall, although his eyes never once left her face. She turned and walked down the platform, the man looking after her. Teddy wondered if she would look back at him but she kept on walking. There was a scream from the locomotive and the man started and began to move towards the train. Teddy continued to watch the woman and was rewarded by a glimpse of her veiled face looking back at last. But the man had disappeared on to the train. Teddy wanted to tell her that the man had waited as long as he could, that there had been no loss of faith.

  The scene had stayed with him as he boarded the Berengaria. The way the woman had placed the man’s hand in her muff suggested intimacy but not, Teddy thought, marriage. Married couples would embrace openly; that gesture spoke of concealment. She had wanted something from him, but had he given it? Teddy could not be sure.

  The crossing had been rough and Teddy had spent most of it in his cabin as the ship lurched nauseously from one swell to the next. But on the fourth day, the weather cleared and Teddy ventured out on deck. He was walking rather unsteadily to a group of steamer chairs when he saw the man from the station talking to two women. Teddy almost greeted him as the man had been such a big part of his thoughts for the last few days, but of course the man had not seen him and had no idea who he was. The steward with Teddy saw the direction of his glance and asked him if he knew His Grace the Duke of Wareham. Teddy shook his head – he felt a return of his earlier queasiness as he realised that this was Cora’s fiancé. He tried to walk away, but the steward was determined to tell him about the Duke, his mother the Duchess and his stepsister the Lady Sybil and how they were all going over to attend the Duke’s wedding to an American girl, the richest girl in the world, they said. Nice gentleman, the Duke, very civil to the crew, and as for his mother the Duchess, well, she was something else, a real lady. Teddy could bear no more and dispatched the steward for some broth. Wrapped in rugs in his steamer chair, his book covering his face, Teddy was able to observe the Duke unseen. He was dark for an Englishman and spare in build. His features were mobile but saved from weakness by a strong Roman nose. As he listened to his mother tell some story, the Duke smiled but Teddy thought that he seemed detached, as if he was thinking of something else. His mother clearly noticed this as well and tapped him on the arm with her parasol. The Duke started, collected himself and offered both ladies his arm so they could make a circuit of the deck. They made a graceful trio.

  For the rest of the journey, Teddy hid in his cabin. He didn’t want to see the Duke again. He dreaded an introduction that would inevitably result in a conversation about Cora. When they reached New York he lingered in his stateroom until he was sure that the ducal party had disembarked. The last thing he wanted was to encounter Cora on the quay.

  Now, as Teddy approached the park, he was still no clearer in his mind. He had come back from Europe because he wanted to give Cora a choice. But did he have the right to tell her what he had seen on the platform in London? He was sure that what he had witnessed was a lovers’ farewell. Would that give him an advantage, one that he did not merit? He had had his chance with Cora after all, but he had been too scared then of all her paraphernalia to take it. Did he have the right to spoil the chances of his rival? Did he really want Cora on those terms? He was on the corner of the block that was occupied by the Cash mansion. As he walked up the street he saw Mrs Cash and the Duchess get into a carriage. He rang the bell and gave his card to the footman.

  Presently there was a rustle and a vision in green swept down the stairs. His first impression was that Cora had changed, in a way that he could not immediately define. She rushed towards him and took his hands.

  ‘Teddy, I am so glad you are here. How clever of you to come when Mother is out. All she talks about is the wedding.’ She took his arm. ‘Let’s go into the library, the drawing room is full of wedding gifts. You look very fine, very Continental and distinguished. How is the painting? Shall I come and sit for you when I am a duchess? Or are you too grand to paint society ladies? I hear Sargent regularly turns people away if they don’t interest him.’

  Teddy could see she was nervous, trying to fill the room with chatter so that there would be no space for awkwardness. She looked beautiful but feverish, he could see red spots of colour on her cheeks and neck.

  ‘Paris was everything I had hoped for. It is so far ahead of New York. I was lucky enough to work with Menasche for a while. He said I had some talent.’ He looked at his hands.

  ‘That’s wonderful, Teddy. I know how much you admire him.’ Cora smiled.

  There was a silence. The fact of her marriage lay heavily between them. At last Teddy plunged in.

  ‘Cora, I came here because I wanted to be sure that you were happy. I have no doubt that your mother is happy and your Duke and your dressmaker but I just wanted to be sure that you were.’ He paused, realising that his tone was too light, Cora would think he was teasing her. ‘I came today because I realise that last summer you offered me something precious that I was too foolish to accept. No, please, let me speak.’ Cora was trying to bat away his words with her hands as if they were bees about to sting her. ‘Now you are engaged to be married, I have no right to say anything at all, but Cora, can you tell me that this is what you want, that you love this man and you want to be with him?’

  Cora hung her head. She picked at a green bobble that hung from the fringe on her bodice. But when she looked at him at last, her face was scarlet and her eyes were fierce.

  ‘How dare you come and offer to rescue me! Last summer you wouldn’t help me when I asked, but now that I don’t need your help, you have come back. It’s too late, Teddy.’ She pulled at the green bobble so hard that it came away in her hand. Teddy tried to speak but she rushed on. ‘Do you really think I would marry a man I didn’t care for to please my mother?’

  ‘Do you love him?’ Teddy forced himself to ask, even though he dreaded the answer.

  ‘How can you ask me that?’ Cora turned her head away.

  ‘I just want you to be sure. If you answer yes then this conversation will stop and we can pretend it never happened. But if you can’t say yes, then I am here.’

  Cora still looked away. Without thinking, he put out his hand to touch that flushed cheek. He felt her flinch. How could he tell her now what he knew about the Duke? She wouldn’t believe him. After all, what had he seen? A parting, a passionate one but a parting nonetheless. If the Duke had to put his affairs in order before his marriage, surely there was nothing so terrible in that – any more than there was in Cora saying goodbye to him now. Anything he said would seem motivated by jealousy. He tried to put things right with her.

  ‘Cora, I know how fine you are, don’t be angry with me. I only came here because I care for you.’

  Cora heard the catch in his voice and her face softened. She was about to speak when the library door opened and the girl Teddy had seen with the Duke on the boat walked in.

  ‘Oh, I am sorry, Cora. I didn’t realise you had a visitor.’ There was a pause.

  Cora shook herself and when she spoke her voice was light.

  ‘Sybil, this is Teddy Van Der Leyden. Teddy, this is Lady Sybil Lytchett, she is the Duke’s stepsister and one of my bridesmaids.’ Her voice was a little too high. Teddy felt the warning in it.

  Sybil held out her hand awkwardly. ‘I just came to ask you whether you could lend me something to wear tonight. I know it’s a fright
ful imposition, but you all dress up so much here and I have worn my best evening dress three times. Your mother gave me one of her eyebrow raises last night. I could have died. It’s all very well for Mama to say that breeding shines through, but honestly, Cora, I would much rather be well-dressed than well-bred.’

  Cora could not help smiling, there was something very appealing about Sybil’s lack of guile, ‘Of course, you are more than welcome to take anything in my wardrobe. I will come and help you find something. As it happens, Mr Van Der Leyden was just leaving.’ She turned to Teddy. ‘I hope you will come and see us on your next trip to Europe. I don’t know what I will do over there without all my old friends.’

  She looked at him then and he thought he saw some trace of doubt in her eyes. He wondered again about the scene on the platform: what did Cora really know about her duke? For a moment he forgot about himself and felt apprehensive to think of this bright American girl entering Old World shadows. But she was smiling, a bright, taut, social smile for her future stepsister’s benefit, and he knew he must leave.