Katie Rose (17 page)

“I’d better get back before someone sees us here. Good evening, Miss Appleton.”

Charles departed, and Winifred leaned up against the wall, grateful for the screen of the elephant leaves.

Penelope smiled as James McBride brought her another glass of champagne. “I knew I’d find you if I kept looking,” he declared, pressing the fizzy wine into the
hands of the beautiful blonde. “By God, I’ve had to endure nearly a dozen damned teas and soirees, hoping to find someone who knew you! It seemed while the world knew of Penelope Appleton, no one knew your social circle.”

Penelope smiled mysteriously, then sipped her drink. “That’s because I haven’t got one,” she responded teasingly.

James McBride looked at her uncertainly, then boomed with laughter. “Not if you don’t count half the men in this room. They all talk of nothing but you, my girl. The gorgeous Miss Appleton, with the sister that can speak to the dead.”

Penelope smiled at his lurid description. She knew he was only half joking, for the three sisters were notorious. Nevertheless, she sensed the man’s fascination with her, and she shrugged as if none of it really mattered.

“Now you must let me take you into dinner, my dear. They have pheasant and beef Wellington, salmon and oysters. You’ll enjoy it, I’m certain.”

“I am sorry,” Penelope said deftly, fluttering her lashes. “But I have already agreed to have dinner with another man.” When she saw his crestfallen face, she gave him a bright smile. “But I haven’t promised dessert!”

“That’s my girl!” James beamed. “To make up for it, you have to come to supper with me at the Astors’ party. It’s next week.”

“
The
Astors?” Penelope asked in astonishment. “I’ve heard about those parties, where the women find presents like gold bracelets in their napkins.”

“And diamond tie pins for the men,” he agreed. “I am good friends with William Astor. He surely won’t mind if I bring a guest.”

Penelope’s heart quivered. This man, while a little older, promised entrée into a world she’d previously only glimpsed. Pressing her hand to his, she gave him a seductive smile.

“That sounds wonderful. I must beg leave, now, for I’ve promised every dance. I’ll see you at dessert?”

She knew never to stay too long with any one man, to always leave him wanting more. True to form, James looked as if he had to physically force himself from pulling her back.

“I guess it’ll have to do.”

His eyes followed her as she swept gaily away. Penelope smiled, confident in herself and her abilities. Everything was going just as planned. She made her way to the powder room, a newfangled idea, where ladies could freshen their nose powder or secure their artificial hairpieces. As Penelope bent over the mirror to adjust her pearl eye powder, she saw a young girl enter the room.

“Oh, excuse me! I didn’t know anyone else was here.” She looked as if she was about to depart, and Penelope stopped her.

“No, please don’t leave. I’m almost finished.”

The young girl approached, looking wide-eyed at Penelope. “I know you! You’re the pretty one, of the three sisters! The ones who are magic.”

Penelope laughed at her description, and gave the girl a closer look. About sixteen, she was fresh and charming, very Irish in appearance, and dressed to the hilt. Penelope enviously noted the French lace dangling from her sleeves, and the outrageously expensive jewels that encrusted her throat. She smiled, knowing it was unfashionable to shake hands with other women, and introduced herself.

“I’m Penelope Appleton.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Mary Rose McBride. I can’t believe I’ve met you. Everyone will be so jealous. You really are very scandalous, aren’t you? James McBride is my father. I saw you talking to him.” She smiled. “I have to go now. I can’t be seen with you, for I would be—how would you say it?—ostriched by my friends. Good-bye.”

A cold chill coursed through Penelope as Mary Rose swept away. This girl, a year or so younger than herself, was the daughter of the man who was so boldly courting her!

Penelope leaned against the wall of the powder room, suddenly feeling quite ill.

No one spoke in the carriage on the way home. A few times, Jennifer attempted to engage her sisters in conversation, but Penelope seemed distracted and Winifred oddly depressed. Her own voice sounded artificial and strained, so she gave up after a few moments, and the only sound that inhabited the coach was the rolling of wheels across cobbled streets.

When they got home, Aunt Eve opened the door, still bundled in her shawl. Excitement twinkled in her pale blue eyes, and she gestured to a comfortable fire. “Come! I want to hear all about it! I’ve got hot chocolate waiting, and your cozy slippers. I’m sure you were all a stunning success tonight!”

The three sisters looked at each other, then burst into tears. Jennifer hugged Winifred, consoling her sister without knowing why, while Penelope embraced them both. Aunt Eve fluttered about like a sparrow, hopping from one foot to the other, obviously at a loss.

“Oh, my dears this is terrible. Terrible! Don’t cry like that. Penelope, your face powder is running all over your nose. And sweet Jenny, you never cry. Never! What on earth is wrong?”

The three sisters settled down by the fire amid much weeping, fumbling for handkerchiefs, and wiping of noses. Jennifer blew hers loudly, startling everyone into laughter, which, as sometimes happens, instantly replaced the distress. Eve shook her head in bewilderment as the girls rolled with mirth, and poor Jennifer looked mortified.

“I’m sorry, Auntie,” Jennifer apologized for all of them. “It’s just that tonight was a dreadful disappointment to us all. It seems we really aren’t accepted by society. While the Billings tolerate us because we are great for gossip, none of them asked us to join them publicly for supper, or wanted to appear too friendly.”

Penelope dabbed at her eyes, immediately cleaning up the face powder. “Yes, I noticed that, too. We have to do something to break in, otherwise the really rich, like the Astors, will always look down their noses at us.”

“Even a man like Charles Howe, who is a cut above the rest, spoke to me privately rather than in front of an audience,” Winifred agreed. “Although we’ve developed something of a friendship, I think he couldn’t risk his reputation by being seen with an Appleton.”

“Why, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” Eve hugged her shawl more tightly around her diminutive figure, incensed that someone wouldn’t approve of her darlings. “I will say something to Mrs. Billing in church next Sunday! The very nerve!”

“It isn’t just the Billings,” Winifred said softly. “It’s all of them. We are beyond the pale, as they say. No lady really wants to befriend us, and no real gentleman could consider an Appleton worthy … to court.”

“I see.” This Aunt Eve did understand. No one desired that the girls marry well more than herself, and their orphaned state, coupled with their lack of dowry, was a problem that she’d been thinking about for weeks.

“I think it’s because of our theatricals,” Penelope said,
looking meaningfully at her sisters. “The society people, while fascinated with new ideas, still look down their nose at what we do. As long as we’re labeled that way, I think we’ll always have a problem.”

“And what then should we do for income?” Jennifer asked. “If we give up the theatricals, we become poor as church mice and can’t even afford the basics. We’re talking about survival here, girls. Acceptance is nice, but it doesn’t bring bread.”

“Jenny is right,” Winifred sighed. “It’s a dilemma. We can neither give up the theatricals, nor will society accept them.”

“Perhaps what you need to do is gain a sponsor.” Aunt Eve rocked back and forth in her chair thoughtfully, as if she were knitting, but without the wool and needles. “Someone who is strong and powerful. Someone who will mentor you girls.”

“Who?” Jennifer shrugged. “No one we know is powerful enough to turn society around.”

Aunt Eve smiled, her wizened face wrinkling with delight. “There I think I can help you.” Fumbling inside a desk drawer, Eve pulled out a ream of papers neatly tied with a red ribbon. The three nieces looked on as she slowly unwrapped the bundle and began sorting through the letters.

Winifred sighed. “Eve, dear, while we appreciate your help, this is our problem, and we’ll have to come up with a solution. I’m sure we’ll think of something.” She patted her aunt’s knee, while the old lady looked at her sharply.

“So you don’t think poor old Aunt Eve has any connections, or can assist my lambs with their troubles? I don’t suppose you girls have ever heard of Mildred Adams?”

“The New York socialite?” Penelope asked, perking up instantly. “Why, she must be in her eighties now! Mildred absolutely rules society,” she explained to her puzzled
sisters. “It is rumored that she had a scandalous youth, but she married well and became fabulously rich after her husband died. She presides over the really important balls and parties like a dowager duchess. Surely you don’t know her?” Penelope turned an incredulous face to her aunt.

“Of course I know her,” Eve explained. “Mildred and I were sent to the same boarding school as girls. A dreadful place, but we became good friends and correspond whenever we can. She’s invited me to her parties frequently, but what would an old lady like myself do there? Too much noise. Here is her last letter.”

Eve passed the document around to the sisters, who read it in equal astonishment. Jennifer finished first, passing it to Winifred. She shook her head, grinning.

“I can’t believe it! And you think this woman would provide us her sponsorship?”

Aunt Eve nodded, adjusting her spectacles as the letter came back to her. “Mildred loves a challenge, and she would see this situation as exactly that. Her endorsement would give you ironclad approval. Unfortunately, it may be difficult to gain an audience with her immediately. It seems that she had a secret love, a man she was prevented from marrying. I understand he passed a few years ago and she hasn’t been herself since. I have heard that she’s been seeing mystics and spiritualists to try and contact his ghost.” Aunt Eve shook her head. “As if such a thing could happen!”

Jennifer glanced at her sisters, who looked back with the same sense of excitement. It was all she could do to keep from clapping her hands and prancing about the room. Instead, she managed to keep some of the delight from her voice, and answer calmly.

“Well, then, perhaps we could perform a private little theatrical for her. I’m sure that will take her mind off things.”

“Why, that’s a grand idea.” Aunt Eve beamed. “Grand indeed.”

“I am so grateful that you accepted my invitation to tea,” Allison said demurely as Gabriel took a seat in her parlor, placing his hat beside him on the ornate chair. “I know how busy you are these days.”

“Allison, I apologize if you feel I’ve neglected you.” Gabriel sighed, running his hand absently through his hair. “I have a lot on my mind recently.”

“I see. The marble business, I suppose? I heard you talking to Charles about a city contract.” Allison gestured to the Irish maid to put the tea tray on the table before Gabriel. She dismissed the servant, then poured the tea herself, handing the cup to Gabriel and managing to discreetly touch his fingers in the process.

Gabriel frowned. None of this was like Allison. She was usually direct and confident in her dealings with everyone. His eyes ran over her quickly and he noticed that she had donned her prettiest dress, a soft yellow muslin that complimented her hair and complexion. It was a dress he had openly admired, and he could only assume that she had worn it today for that reason.

“Yes, we were discussing the contract. It seems that our mayor has selected another company to get the lion’s share of the marble business. Charles thinks we should try to win his favor before taking any action.” Gabriel stirred the tea and attempted to smile fondly at the woman. “You aren’t usually interested in my business, Allison. Is there a particular reason today?”

“I’m always interested in your concerns,” Allison said. “You know I’m not like some other women, ignorant of business and money matters. Women have just as much intelligence as men, which is something Benjamin Franklin noted a hundred years ago. He even recommended that
women take up bookkeeping, and learn to assist their husbands with the mathematical tasks of running a business, as opposed to the physical work.”

“I am aware of Mr. Franklin’s theories,” Gabriel responded indulgently, although he was getting more and more uncomfortable by the moment. “But I don’t need help with the bookkeeping. I have Edward for that.” His joke fell flat as Allison gave him a blank look. Seeking to change the topic, he leaned forward and helped himself to a cucumber sandwich. “Did you enjoy the ball last night? You looked wonderful.”

Allison nodded, taking the seat beside Gabriel instead of the one she usually occupied across from him. A faint trace of perfume reached him, something else unusual. She continued to smile at him.

“Yes, I had a very nice time. I especially enjoyed the dancing. In fact, I noticed you did also. How do you know Jennifer Appleton?”