A Question of Class (26 page)

But Theodosia was always astute, and when Catherine finished her story she took her hands. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

The brave front Catherine had kept up the past few months for Sophie’s sake came crashing down. She dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief Theodosia offered. “Perhaps it was the extreme circumstances we were placed in, perhaps it was the fact that we both loved our sisters and lost them, but he was like no other man I’ve ever met.”

“And where is he now? Why did he go?”

“He left for France immediately. He had to. His presence here would’ve made all of this so much more difficult, and Carpenter surely would’ve thrown all of the focus onto him with regard to Mr. Delcour’s death. It was too dangerous.”

“I see,” said Theodosia. “And I take it you haven’t heard from him yet?”

“No. I don’t imagine I will, after all of this time. Anything could have happened to him. If he’s died, I would have no way of knowing.”

“There, there. You can’t jump to conclusions. Now we mustn’t have you locked up here in the north of the island forever. You ought to come back to town.”

“I couldn’t. I don’t want to have to face those people. Besides, I have to live simply now. I’m lucky the magistrate allowed me to keep the Mount in return for turning in Carpenter and Delcour. Everything else went to repay those they swindled.”

“I understand. But for Sophie’s sake, you may need to be integrated into society more than you are now. She should have friends her own age.”

“That’s true,” agreed Catherine. “We’ve been naming the squash in the garden, if that gives you any sense of how little human contact we’ve had the past few months.”

“It’s decided, then. I’m going to a small gathering at the Jays’ next week. Did you receive that invitation?”

Catherine went over to a small desk and leafed through the stack of calling cards. Once the upper class of New York learned she’d exposed her own husband and insisted those who had been defrauded receive compensation, she noticed first a trickle and then a steady stream of invitations. She had ignored them all. “Yes, I have it here.”

“We’ll go together. We’ll take it slowly to start off.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Catherine. “I can’t keep Sophie shut up here forever, however much I’d like to. But do you promise you’ll be there as well? Otherwise I’ll walk right out again.”

“I promise,” said Theodosia, laughing. “I do promise.”

20

The day of the gathering was chilly with a hint of rain in the air. Although Catherine was nervous about being out in public, she hid her fear for Sophie’s sake. Between getting lots of fresh air and eating well, Sophie had filled out and her skin glowed with health. She was growing fast.

As they entered the Jays’ drawing room, Sophie looked around in amazement, awed by the grandeur of the furnishings and artwork, but she pulled herself together and gave their hostess a lovely curtsy upon being introduced.

There were a dozen or so other women in the room, including Theodosia, who came over and embraced Catherine and Sophie.

“You’re a brave woman,” she whispered into Catherine’s ear. “Nicely done.”

Catherine gave her a quick smile, and then made her way around the parlor, saying hello and introducing Sophie. The sixth woman she came face to face with was the indomitable Mrs. Wetmore, who gave Catherine a too-wide smile that had the unfortunate effect of baring several uneven teeth. Luckily, before the woman could mention the incident with the sash, Mrs. Jay summoned them to all sit down. They drank cups of tea in white china patterned with roses. Other than the clinking of spoons against china, the room was awkwardly quiet.

“And how is life at the Mount, Mrs. Delcour?” asked Mrs. Jay, breaking the silence.

“It’s peaceful, thank you for asking,” said Catherine. “Sophie has been busy with her piano lessons and French.”

“She seems to be a vivacious young woman,” interjected Mrs. Wetmore, eyeing Sophie up and down. “What a surprise a town like Bridgeport could be a veritable font of lovely girls.” She spit out the word “Bridgeport” as if it were particularly distasteful.

Before Catherine could rely, Mrs. Wetmore turned to Theodosia. “And I hear the Carpenter manse is for sale,” she said. “I’m so sorry my dear Theodosia, to hear about what you’ve had to go through.”

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much,” said Theodosia. “My stepfather, not I, had to face the consequences of his actions. However, I am glad my mother isn’t alive to see this.”

“God rest her soul,” said Mrs. Wetmore. She took a sip of her tea. “I have to admit I took advantage of your situation, Mrs. Delcour.”

“Oh?” said Catherine. She had no idea what the woman was talking about, and dreaded finding out. She prayed Mrs. Jay would step in soon and stop Mrs. Wetmore from dominating the conversation the entire afternoon. “In what way is that?”

“I hired your Mrs. Daggett,” Mrs. Wetmore said triumphantly. “Only yesterday.”

Catherine took a deep breath of relief. She was sure Mrs. Wetmore had done so after hearing Catherine would be present at the tea, in a show of one-upmanship. Little did she know what she was in for.

“How lovely for you.” Catherine smiled. “I do miss her mince pies so. Please be sure to insist she bake them for you.”

“Oh I will, I certainly will.” Mrs. Wetmore sat back in her chair, quite pleased.

The conversation flowed easily after that. Before long, Catherine was happily listening to the women discuss a Shakespearean comedy playing at the Park Theatre.

The doors to the drawing room opened. Catherine’s heart dropped as Mrs. Percy Bonneville trotted in. She’d read in the paper Percy and his new wife were honeymooning in Europe through the end of the year, and figured she’d be safe from any accidental encounters. Theodosia glanced over at Catherine with a look of alarm.

“Such good news,” said their hostess. “The Bonnevilles have returned early from Europe, and we do welcome them back.”

Catherine recalled how desperate she’d been to see Percy the past summer, and how awful he’d been to her. Compared to Benjamin, Percy was a rather inconsequential man. But at the time she had not been able to see clearly.

Mrs. Bonneville peered at Catherine intently. “Mrs. Delcour. I believe we have met already. At Mr. Carpenter’s ball.”

“I believe so, yes,” said Catherine. “And at the opera the season prior.”

Mrs. Bonneville gave Catherine a disingenuous smile. “Funny, I don’t remember that at all.”

“And how was your honeymoon?” Mrs. Jay asked.

“Oh, we had to cut it short,” said Mrs. Bonneville. “Business. Percy is so busy these days.”

To her relief, the hostess guided Mrs. Bonneville on to the next guest, and she tottered away without a backward glance.

Catherine wished she hadn’t come, and wondered how soon she could excuse herself and leave. No good could come from being in the same room as Mrs. Bonneville.

“I hear they ran out of money,” whispered the woman beside Catherine. “Apparently Percy hasn’t risen through the ranks like he thought he would and his father is furious and has withheld his annuity.”

“I’m sure it’s difficult work, being a lawyer,” said Catherine. After being the target of so much malicious gossip, Catherine hated to do the same back. Even if it was deserved.

“Mrs. Delcour, I hear we are all to thank you for saving us from the swindle of the century,” said Mrs. Bonneville. She was seated across the room and had raised her voice, cutting off all other conversation.

“I am in no need of thanks,” Catherine said.

“But we must. If it were not for you, Mr. Delcour would have continued making laughingstocks of all of our husbands, while at the same time rapidly decreasing our bank accounts.”

“My departed husband had his faults,” said Catherine quietly.

“Please let’s not speak ill of the dead,” interrupted Theodosia. “I don’t think this kind of talk is appropriate.”

The other women nodded their heads in assent, but Mrs. Bonneville sat upright in her chair, her chubby fingers tightly gripping the delicate teacup.

“Your husband,” said Mrs. Bonneville.

Catherine looked at her in confusion.

“You said your departed
husband
,” repeated Mrs. Bonneville.

“I did.”

“That’s so interesting. Now if I remember, when Percy and I were in France, he brought up your husband. Let me think.” She set her teacup and saucer down on the table beside her and folded her hands in her lap, as if she were about to tell a child a bedtime story. “We were sitting in a café in a hotel. They’d brought out the cheese plate but it was so smelly, I told them to take it away right off. I have to say, if anyone here goes to France, I would warn you off the cheese. Awful stuff. Anyway, Percy told me, and I may have heard incorrectly, as the odor of the cheese made me a little dizzy, but I think he said you and Mr. Delcour were never married.”

A teacup clattered into a saucer, a small gasp erupted from behind a lace handkerchief and all eyes were on Catherine.

“That’s enough,” said Theodosia.

“I understand you’ve been allowed to stay at the Mount,” continued Mrs. Bonneville, gathering steam. “I wonder what the magistrate would say about that, if it turned out you weren’t Mrs. Delcour at all. But I’m sure you’ll be able to get it all straightened out. You simply have to show proof.”

The woman had been waiting for this day. Catherine was tired of hiding the truth, and tired of the lies. These ladies no longer intimidated nor impressed her. She spoke up, clearly and slowly. “You are correct, Mrs. Bonneville. I am not married, nor have I ever been.”

The room erupted. Mrs. Bonneville sat back in her chair with a satisfied smirk on her face and Catherine noticed Theodosia had gone pale. Sophie seemed perplexed. This was not what the girl had expected to happen at her first formal tea.

“Mr. Delcour married me on a merchant ship, you see,” said Catherine, “and he informed me in the weeks before he died that a ceremony performed on such a vessel is not valid.”

“My dear girl,” said Mrs. Jay. She was enjoying this grandly, noted Catherine, as her fetes would be the talk of the town the rest of the season.

“You couldn’t have known,” said Theodosia.

“I didn’t know,” said Catherine. “But now I do. And so do all of you. Good day to you all.”

With that, Catherine and Sophie swept out of the room, leaving many shrill, outraged voices behind them.

* * * *

“Why can’t Freddie come with us?” whimpered Sophie.

It was the morning of Catherine and Sophie’s departure, and Catherine couldn’t bear the sadness in her sister’s eyes at leaving her only friend behind. The carriage swayed as they turned out of the driveway for the last time.

“Because he has his own family here, remember?”

Sophie shook her head. The young girl couldn’t possibly understand how the repercussions from Mrs. Bonneville’s announcement had rippled through New York. Or the embarrassment Catherine felt upon being summoned to the magistrate’s office and told she would have to vacate the Mount.

Sophie tugged on Catherine’s sleeve. “But what will Freddie do?”

“The Jays have bought the Mount and they’ve promised to keep Freddie on.”

“So he’ll tend to the vegetable garden?”

“He will. Your squash will be well taken care of.”

In many ways, Catherine was free for the first time in her life. The one thing she’d known for certain after the news of her downfall had spread was she didn’t want to stay in America any longer. The rigid rules were not kind to women on their own, so with what little money she had left, Catherine had booked passage on a ship to France. She hoped there she and Sophie would create a simple but satisfying life together.

“Will we see Mr. Thomas once we’ve crossed the ocean?”

“No, Sophie. I’ll have to find a teaching position right away, so we’ll be quite busy. We won’t see Mr. Thomas ever again.”

Luckily, Sophie’s sorrow turned to excitement once they arrived at the piers and saw the great ships moored along the waterfront. The dock swarmed with passengers coming and going, and others there to see them off or welcome them home, but eventually Catherine was able to find a porter to assist with their luggage. They didn’t have much, and Catherine hoped Sophie wouldn’t be too disappointed with the second-class passage she’d booked. Before heading up the gangplank, Sophie stared up at the ship, her mouth open.