Alice glares her way. “I will get to that.”
Cora mimes locking her mouth up tight, resisting her impatience. “Right. Sorry. Simply listening now.”
“Do you recall the name I went by at the party, when you found Mr. McAllister and me conversing in Mrs. Witt’s sitting room?”
Cora stares at her blankly. “Oh, understood—now it’s time to speak. Yes, the duchess, Grand Duchess Marie of... Wertingpark?”
“Goodness, no. That sounds like the title of a half-rate dime novel.Württemberg,” she corrects, with caustic emphasis. “A small Germanic principality, still sovereign, with its own nobility and crown, which has tragically found itself in economic and political turmoil since joining the German Empire.” Alice adjusts her elegant hat, protecting her face against the cold as they turn another corner. “Ournation of Württemberg...”
Cora marks that “our” with a surprised blink but keeps her mouth shut.
“...is extremely rich in averyvaluable natural resource. Emerald mines, to be exact, which are scattered across Württemberg’s topography—and which were unfairly and secretly pledged as an incentive in the brokering of Germany’s recent treaty with Austria-Hungary and Italy. Our king, Charles I, wildly unpopular with the people, failed to protect our great nation by not only capitulating to this treaty but also by allowing our mines and other assets to be ruthlessly pillaged by these new supposed allies.”
Alice waits a moment to continue as they edge around a bustling fruit cart.
“Understandably, this has led to a growing national resistance, helmed by my brother, Wilhelm Karl Paul Heinrich Friedrich, the grand prince and current heir to the throne. I believe, in my very soul, that with a little financial help from our American friends, we will gain Württemberg’s independence—but all ofthis has made us reconsider the future, you see, including the management of our most valuable resource. Perhaps it is time to join the modern age. Allow a select number oftrustedforeign investors to join the efforts of our sovereign-backed mining company—”
“Quick question. Only one at present, promise.” Cora winces. “This Württemberg... is it real? I’ve never heard of it.”
Alice stares at Cora as if she’s grown a second head.
“Yes,” she says evenly.
Cora feels her cheeks warm, even in the cold. “I just wasn’t sure where the truth ends and the con starts.”
“Please tell me you are following this. The nation, the treaty, King Charles, even the recently widowed Prince Wilhelm, all real. We have created afictionalsister, played by yours truly, who is helping the prince’sfictionalnational resistance to protect Württemberg’sentirely fictionalemerald mines, which we are going to posit as a discreet, early investment opportunity to select New York families in order to rob them blind. Yes?”
Cora swallows hard. “Ah yes. Got it. Crystal clear—I mean, right as rain.” She ignores her jumping pulse. She is game for this kind of subterfuge, is she not? A detailed, mindful game, with high stakes and great rewards. She simply needs to get up to speed. “If we could just go over the bit about the sovereign-backed mining company—”
“There’s no need for that at present.” Alice closes her eyes. “You will be playing the role of my cousin—my sweet,simplecousin, I’m thinking now, who knows very little about economics or the inner workings of Württemberg mining. All you’ll need to do is look and act the part while Mr. McAllister and I work our targets and secure their pledges to invest.”
“The part,” Cora repeats, “the part of—”
“A Württembergian emerald heiress.”
Cora shakes her head. Coraline O’Malley, anemeraldheiress.
Hardly a backstage gig, as suspected. No, it sounds as though Cora will be on the front lines of this endeavor. This could be quite satisfying. In truth, she cannot think of a more rewarding game, infiltrating the smart set by proving them foolish, waltzing right into their showy parties and fleecing them. Things are coming together indeed.
“The trouble is,” Alice goes on, “this sort of scheme is finite. These marks, as insulated as they are in their Manhattan, upper-crust world, are also quite resourceful and well connected. Mr. McAllister and I estimate we have the span of one spring social season to lock in our targets and realize our aims. Our endgame—their investments—mustbe attained by the conclusion of the social calendar, with the first of May as our closing date. And I am not leaving New York without achieving what I’ve come for.”
“And where exactly did you comefrom?” Cora ventures. “Was I right about Upstate New York?”
Alice’s eyes narrow, as if to physically lock her mind up tight.
Cora opts for a shrug over a smile. “I figure I should know a little bit about the person I’m working for. Beyond all the lies, that is.”
She watches Alice consider. Then: “Poughkeepsie.”
Cora nods. Presses her luck further. “Some grand mansion in town, I assume.”
“A boardinghouse. Can we get back to the matter at hand?”
“Right, of course.” Cora nods smartly. “Who are our targets?”
“Five families, some members of which you may have already been exposed to, but we will cover them in detail, and indue course,” Alice says, stepping carefully around a large pile of horse manure steaming on the walk. “All you need to know right now is that they are part of high society, including thenouveau riche, the type who hold tightest to their newfound wealth and power and thus who need to be approached extremely carefully.”
The nouveau riche.Robber barons, she’s heard them called. Steel and railroads. Banks. Not Ross & Calhoun, those devils, but exactly the same ilk.
