“You will be staying with me, your elder cousin,” Alice continues, “and after your long sea journey, you are quite eager to join the season’s festivities here in New York. You’ve been studying abroad, perhaps in England. I’ll teach you a Württemberg accent; the British influence will explain why it differs slightly from mine. You have a good ear. Hopefully you’ll prove as skillful a mimic.”
Cora opens her mouth to enthusiastically agree, perhaps even to attempt a posh British lilt, but is spared the effort by Alice plodding onward.
“Following the tragic death of your father, the king’s exchequer, who secretly supported the resistance—”
“My fath... Um. All right. I—”
“Your mother has decided to send you to me, safe from potential repercussions here in America, where perhaps you may also meet a suitable husband. Since unfortunate circumstances have forced me to these shores as well, we are in great sympathy with each other, you see. There could be no better mentor for you.”
Cora is more inclined to agree than ever. She nods.
Alice leans forward. “I’ll introduce you to society. The dinners, the balls. At these events you’ll help us gain access toone particularly elusive mark and draw him into the emerald scheme.”
“And then what?”
“And then we’re golden until the first of May, at which point all our preparations will coalesce into one glorious confidence game. Then we’ll go our separate ways as far wealthier individuals. Where you go and why is entirely up to you.”
Cora nods again, exhaling, as they round the block once more, the Hopper House’s stodgy entrance now coming back into view. Long Creek Farm has never felt so attainable, so inevitable.
“Oh, and Cora?” Alice takes her arm, pulling her back slightly. “I hope it goes without saying that if you breathe a word about this to anyone...” She smiles, although the expression is neither warm nor charming, as Cora had assumed it might be. It’s curling, wicked, with far too much tooth. “I’ll ensure you truly disappear.”
Cora deflects that clearly genuine threat by glancing at the doors. “Well then. I suppose I should get my belongings. Am I to assume we are to start right away?”
“Right away, as in immediately.” Alice gently guides her in the opposite direction, gesturing toward a hansom cab parked under the elevator line across the road.
“Wait, I need to...” Cora sighs. “I have some money. It’s in a safe place, stowed in my luggage. It isn’t much, but it’s a start, to buy my farm, you see, and I—”
“One hundred fifty? Maybe two?”
The correct number is one hundred eighty-nine dollars, but Cora has to assume Alice’s question was rhetorical.
“It’s imperative to cut ties immediately, as goodbyes will only prompt explanations as to where you’re going and whatwe’re about to do.” Alice lifts her chin. “I assure you, you’ll have five thousand times that amount when this is through.”
Five thousand times.Meaning her cut is...one million dollars? Cora laughs incredulously. “And I’m just meant to take your word for that?”
“I’m not going to draw up a legal contract, if that’s what you’re asking,” Alice says crisply. “You requested that I teach you. That is going to require a leap of faith. Are you prepared to jump?”
She supposes Alice makes a point. Cora nods.
As consolation, when they set off, she keeps her eyes trained on that flat expanse of water tucked between the long rows of shanties in the distance—beyond all the filth and squalor, the promise of something far bigger and brighter than even this city can contain.
Alice remains silent as they ride across town, which is just as well—more time for Cora to gape at the homes and mansions growing in increasing proportion as they inch toward Fifth Avenue. The iconic street itself feels like another world from the one she left, all tall, majestic buildings and shining horse-drawn carriages, frilly ladies and well-dressed gentlemen strolling on either side of the road, as if they have nowhere to be but part of a perpetual parade, fashionably whiling away the early evening. This is her new show, Cora supposes, her chance to perform front and center on a real stage, although she can still hardly believe it.
She finds her mind drifting back to her prior days on the road, her old gig, the troupe, Prospero, Dinah, and Maeve. Well, mainly Maeve. She pictures the kindly older woman now, stammering possible explanations to Prospero about where Cora could have gone. Pleading with Dinah to convince theboss to wait for her, just a while longer. Maeve is likely worried sick about her, fearing the worst, as she tends to do.
Cora shifts in her seat, trying to get comfortable with this unfortunate ramification. If Cora ever wants to set foot on Long Creek Farm again, she is going to need to be as merciless, and single-minded, as the men were who stole it in the first place. She will make it right with Maeve one day. Find her, somehow, when this whole Württemberg scheme is through.
The carriage stops in front of a well-kept townhome on the corner of Third Avenue and Thirty-Eighth Street. It’s quite nice, actually. High-end.
“You live here?”
Alice arches an eyebrow. “New York is its own illusion.”
She exits the carriage without further explanation.
Frugal with her words, Cora supposes.Let’s hope that frugality doesn’t extend to anything else.
As Cora climbs down after her, she gets a better look at the place, realizing it isn’t one home but several—a manse divided into different units, different flats. Though a step up from a boardinghouse in... Poughkeepsie, Alice had said? Perhaps she and her new mentor really aren’t so different—at least, not in all respects.
