Katie Rose (41 page)

“Maybe you saw one of us,” Winifred said consolingly. “Like Penelope or the maid. Sometimes, at an odd angle, a reflection can look very strange.”

“I wish it were that simple,” Jennifer said. “Winnie, I know what I saw. Worst of all, I have no idea who this girl is, or why she was here. She was a ghost, for heaven’s sake, a real ghost just like our father’s!”

Winifred bit her lip, a gesture Jennifer knew signaled deep thought. “If you’re really sure, then I don’t think we
should tell anyone about this. It’s one thing to have spoken to our own father, for people would think he had reason to contact us. It’s quite another to have unidentified spirits wandering around the house.”

“What are you two talking about? We have to get ready,” Penelope said, giving them a pretty pout which was completely wasted on her sisters.

Jennifer nodded. “Winnie, I think you are right. I will take your advice.” She shuddered, then glanced at the mirror again. The reflection was only her own, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.

The Christmas Ball, held at the Belmonts’ estate, was the season’s “must attend” event. Jennifer alighted from their carriage with her sisters and Aunt Eve. She stepped onto a red carpet that had been rolled from the Fifth Avenue mansion down to the curb, ensuring that the guests’ feet never had to touch the New York streets. Servants lined the walkway, shivering in the cold, yet perfectly attentive to the needs of the party-goers. One took her muff, another her cloak, another furnished a glass of champagne, and by the time they reached the grand hallway, they had already joined the party.

Inside, Jennifer was slightly scandalized at the portrait of a naked Bouguereau lady, displayed proudly for all to see. She was grateful that Mildred had coached them about the picture, for she knew August Belmont was ridiculously proud of the piece of artwork, and that any negative reaction from the Appletons would mark them as rubes. She heard Penelope’s stifled giggle, but fortunately, her sister was able to control her reaction. The three sisters entered the ballroom, where the dancing had already begun.

Penelope was asked immediately, and Jennifer smiled
proudly at her beautiful sister as she swept across the marble floor, stunning in her midnight blue ball gown. In spite of the Christmas season, Penelope had refused to wear red or green, knowing that neither color did her justice. Instead, she was like a sapphire jewel in the midst of the crowd, and more than one gentleman remarked on her elegance and beauty.

Charles spotted Winifred and approached immediately, bearing tempting little sandwiches and, of all things, caviar. He indicated the plate to Winifred, and smiled at her questioning look.

“Fish eggs.” He grinned, looking more charming than ever. “They’re all the rage. By the way, you girls look wonderful. Everyone’s talking about you—it’s all I’ve heard all evening. Gabriel is supposed to be here tonight, but I haven’t seen him yet. Jennifer, are you all right? You look a little pale.”

Jennifer saw Winifred’s concerned gaze sweep over her, but she nodded and forced a bright smile. “I’m fine. I think I’ll take a walk and reacquaint myself with everyone. Enjoy the eggs.” She turned quickly, seeing Winifred’s glowing happiness at Charles’s compliments. Although she was glad for her sister, her own loneliness only returned twofold, and she felt like a third wheel in their company. The thought of running into Gabriel completely unnerved her, for she hadn’t expected that he’d be attending an event like this one. Would he even speak to her, or would he ignore her completely? He might even have an escort, and she’d have to endure the sight of him with another woman in his arms. The thought devastated her.

The image of the ghost she’d seen also wouldn’t leave her, and even the good champagne did nothing to calm her nerves. It didn’t help that she was the object of conversation everywhere, and it was only by ducking behind a marble statue of Venus that she was able to have a moment’s peace.

“Miss Mildred Adams.” Jennifer heard the servant announce the matriarch’s arrival, and watched as the old woman entered the room like a queen. She barely turned her head, giving a smile only to those who were either very rich or very important, reserving her handshake for August Belmont and his beautiful wife. Jennifer watched her in awe, for Mildred seemed to know everyone, including the obscenely rich Astors and Goelets, the Drews and Jeromes. She even spoke to Jay Gould, treating him with a fondness that stood out, since everyone else reportedly hated him. Her head lifted, and in spite of her diminutive height, she spotted Jennifer immediately. The frown that came to her face was tangible, and Jennifer saw her cut her way through the crowd, making a path directly toward her.

“There you are. What are you doing, hiding back here like a housemaid? I’m only enduring half these conversations for your sake.”

The old woman smiled, but looked concerned, especially when she saw Jennifer’s expression. Forcing a smile, Jennifer put her hands into the older woman’s.

“I was just watching everyone. It is a little intimidating, you must admit. Besides, I don’t think I’ve gotten over what happened at the séance, and my nerves are a little on edge.”

Mildred’s wonderful gaze swept over her quickly, and she nodded, as if confirming something to herself. “I see. Who is he?”

“What?” Jennifer’s mouth dropped, and the old woman chuckled, tugging at her gloves.

“I know perfectly well what’s troubling you, miss. You see, I was young once, and in love, as I explained to you already. You look like a woman who’s pining for a man, and that we cannot have. Who is he?”

“Gabriel. Gabriel Forester. I don’t think you know
him. He doesn’t travel in quite so wealthy circles.” Jennifer indicated the glittering crowd beyond.

“Forester? Of course I know him. He’ll be here tonight whether he wants to or not. That is, if he expects to do any business in the city next year. The mayor is here, along with his consorts, and most of the city contracts are negotiated here, over champagne cocktails. Don’t look so shocked, my dear. You are, after all, a woman of the world. So what is the trouble with this Mr. Forester?”

“He doesn’t approve of our … spiritualism,” Jennifer explained. “He’s so angry with me that even if he comes, he probably won’t speak to me.”

“Ah,” Mildred sighed, nodding her head. “We’ll see about that. In the meantime, there are some women I want you to meet. Madam Woods, you may have heard of her, wants you to speak at the Spiritualist Convention. It is a wonderful honor, and a national tour, an opportunity that will put you before everyone of any importance. Put your chin up, and get rid of that dull look in your eyes. Everyone is watching you tonight, my dear, and you absolutely must sparkle!”

Jennifer followed the old woman toward a group of brilliantly gowned females standing beside a fountain. When Jennifer approached, they turned to her, delighted, and thanked Mildred a hundred times for bringing her over. One of them extended a diamond-crusted hand and clasped Jennifer’s, her smile beaming.

“I am Josie Woods. I heard all about your feat! Imagine, summoning a real ghost from the dead! My dear, I want to hear everything about it, and you will, of course, accept my speaking engagement? You will be compensated handsomely, of course, but more than that, there is the exposure. Every newspaper across the country will know of you. This could lead to just about anything you wish, including a seat on the suffragette council, publishing, you name it.”

Jennifer nodded, stunned by the import of what was being offered to her. She would be rich and famous, have an opportunity to travel and to speak to thousands of influential people. The whole idea was heady, and she stared at the elegant woman, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Me? You really want me?”

“Of course, my dear. You are far more qualified than anyone else we could think of. Everyone else is mouthing ideas, while you’ve actually performed a miracle! I don’t think you understand the importance of what you’ve done. You will be a symbol to women everywhere, an example to them of what one woman can do! I applaud you, Miss Appleton!”

To Jennifer’s amazement and stunned embarrassment, she actually began to clap, as did the other women in the group. Jennifer felt the color rise to her cheeks as others glanced her way, staring in admiration and envy. Bowing her head, she felt the intoxicating excitement creep through her as everything she’d ever dreamed became reality. For a brief moment, she even felt the part, and silently acknowledged the truth to herself: She’d done it! Glasses of champagne were raised to her, and the music stopped, allowing the applause to grow thunderous.

Jennifer bowed, and enjoyed it all. She saw Mildred’s approving nod, Winifred’s beaming happiness, Penelope’s blown kisses. Charles saluted her, and even the Billings were forced to nod her way. It was better than champagne, better than anything she’d ever experienced. She allowed herself to bask in her moment of glory, then her eyes fell upon Gabriel.

He was standing on the far side of the ballroom, looking incredibly handsome in a black suit with tails, and a flawless white shirt. Jennifer’s breath caught and she waited to see disgust or disapproval in his eyes, but he only raised his glass to her, toasting her as did everyone else.

That simple gesture tore at her heart, and when she was swept into the arms of another man on the dance floor, she wanted nothing more than to break off and leave. But she couldn’t. She had fought for this, worked for it, and finally, had won. Her sisters’ future was now secure, as was her own, and she was caught up in her own success. Yet at no other moment in her life had she felt so miserable, especially when she saw Gabriel dancing with a beautiful blonde. Jennifer’s hand tightened in the man’s who held her, and he looked at her questioningly. She only smiled, and forced her gaze away, pretending, as Mildred had advised, to sparkle.

She only wished it was as easy as it looked.

“There you are.” James McBride finally managed to cut in on Penelope’s dance partner, and secure a dance for himself. His hand slipped around her waist, and he gazed into her eyes, obviously satisfied to have captured his quarry. “I’ve been trying to claim a dance all night.”

“The men here are very determined, to say the least,” Penelope said coolly, wondering at his attention. She had neither seen nor spoken to James since she received that dreadful letter. Surprisingly, the memory of it no longer hurt, and when she looked at him, she felt very little emotion.

“Not as determined as myself. You don’t become as rich a man as I am without patience. I can wait forever if I have to, and I always get what I want.”

He gave Penelope a meaningful glance. She smiled distantly, and allowed him to lead her around the dance floor. As they waltzed, Penelope could tell something was on the man’s mind. He cleared his throat awkwardly a few times, then attempted to draw her closer to him, but Penelope didn’t encourage him at all. She was polite, but
that was it. Finally, he stopped midwaltz and shook his head.

“It’s no good; I’ve got to say my piece and get on with it.”

Penelope looked at him strangely, then indicated an enclosed patio that opened from the dance floor. “I think there’s a place there, if you feel you want to talk.”

He nodded, as if grateful for her suggestion, then practically dragged her to the alcove. Rushing to keep up with him, Penelope managed to maintain her composure and sit quietly in a wicker chair. She looked up at him expectantly as he paced the tiny floor.

“You must know how I feel about you, Miss Appleton. I think I’ve made it apparent. I know you women set store by where and when this takes place, but I’m a man who’s always acted on my gut feeling, and I’m not about to change now. I know I sent you that letter, and said we shouldn’t see each other, but all that has changed. You see, a man like myself has to marry well. Even Vanderbilt couldn’t wed the woman he would have chosen, because she wasn’t acceptable.”

“You mean Tennessee Clafflin,” Penelope said calmly. “The spiritualist.”

“That’s right.” James waved a thick arm as if dismissing the conversation. “The commodore knows, as I do, how important it is to make the right decision when it comes to a wife. I wrote that letter when it seemed that you wouldn’t be accepted, that everyone was calling you a charlatan, and worse. But now …” He gestured around the room. “Now you are as good as any queen, especially with Mildred Adams’s blessing. Nothing stands in our way. I guess what I’m asking is, will you marry me?”

Penelope sucked in her breath. It was all there, waiting for her. This man was fabulously rich, she reminded herself. If she married him, she could have everything she
wanted, everything she’d ever dreamed of. She would be accepted by the Astors and Goelets; parties like this one would be a weekly occurrence. She would assume her rightful place in society, her place destined not by birth but by desire. She would live like a princess, sheltered in James McBride’s smile, forever untouched by want or need.

Yet, she had no qualms when she leaned forward and put her hands in his.