“That won’t be necessary. Harold, good to see you out and about.” As they shake hands, Beau adds, “Allow me to take it from here. Lady Cora and I were just in the middle of discussing the possibility of a dan...” He stops, searching his pocket.
“Oh. How?” Beau glances up. “Ah, excuse me, but...” Hepats his pockets again. “Can’t find the dang pencil. Keep your card ready, Lady Cora. I’ll only be a minute.”
Mrs. Ames rolls her eyes, sweeping forward, her wide frame blocking Beau out entirely as he hurries away.
“Mr. Peyton, this isMissCora Ritter.” She looks inordinately proud to have gotten the honorific right. “Cousin to the Grand Duchess Marie Charlotte Gabriella of Württemberg.”
Harry’s forehead wrinkles. “Württemberg...”
“A nation within the German Empire,” Mrs. Ames chirps.
“Ah. How fascinating.” Sincerity rings in Harry’s voice. He bows. “I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Ritter.”
“The grand duchess was kind enough to bring Miss Ritter along to New York for the social season,” Mrs. Ames explains. “A welcome respite for them both. Our family has pledged to do everything we can to make their time in our city as comfortable and memorable as possible, haven’t we, Arabella?”
“Ah yes,” Arabella mumbles, but only after her mother has nudged her.
Harry smiles. It’s a nice one, Cora notes, just a shade flummoxed, with dimples and those doe-like blue eyes, his gaze never wavering. It’s the perfect opening moment, really... if not for the anxious-looking Arabella beside him.
“I wonder, do you find yourself homesick at all, Miss Ritter?” Harry asks. “In the somatic or figurative sense?”
“Heavens no, Mr. Peyton,” Mrs. Ames answers for her, “it is a gift they have reached our shores. Don’t you know Miss Ritter’s country is on the brink of a civil war? The governing king has wronged his people, and a national resistance, led byher cousin, seeks to restore order and prosperity for all.”
Harry’s eyes dart back to Cora’s—wide with interest or concern, Cora can’t be sure.
Mrs. Ames drops her voice an octave, murmuring to Arabella, “Speaking of, dear daughter, I do believe we should ask the grand duchess if she’s heard from the prince. I overheard Mrs. Vandemeer inviting her to an intimate dinner. It might be prudent to remind the duchess of the particular bond between our two families, wouldn’t you agree?”
“But—”
Mrs. Ames turns toward Harry. “We shall leave you two to become better acquainted.”
Before Arabella can further object, her mother whisks her across the ballroom.
Cora lets out a low, steady breath.And now the stage is mine.
Harry inches closer. “Tell me, Miss Ritter, how are you acclimating to our city? I am always captivated by the effects of new environmental factors on the body.”
Goodness, the boy really does have a fascination with anatomy—Harry is most certainly a far sight quirkier than Alice had intimated. Still, Cora manages a doting laugh. She studies the dancers surrounding them, the kaleidoscope of silk, lace, color.
“I suppose I find it quite beautiful. Busy.Lonely.” She glances back, offering him a sad smile. “I am... still finding my way.”
“Manhattan is not a hard city to master once you’re accustomed to it. I never get lost during my weekly jaunts to the Academy.” Then Harry adds, more hesitantly, “But I understand how it might feel lonely. I’ve often wondered how other cities might compare.”
Cora swallows her surprise. A young man of Harry’s station... She would have thought he’d grown up summering in Newport, vacationed for months on end across Europe,same as the rest of this privileged set they’re rubbing shoulders with.
“Surely you’ve been to other cities besides New York?”
“I’m afraid my natural habitat has shrunk to the size of twenty blocks and two avenues.” His smile turns wistful. “I am fulfilled, mind you, having thrown myself into my studies, the Academy, the pursuit of a greater calling. Still...” Harry trails off. There’s a new glimmer of yearning in his eyes.
“They’ve become recluses these past few years,” Alice explained during training.“The father has cut them both off from the world.”
But it sounds as though Harry has been shuttered on this island for much longer... and Cora can definitely tap into that yearning.
“Well, I have done enough travel for the both of us,” she says kindly. “I can be your field guide to other places, if you like. And perhaps one day, with some luck, your horizons might extend far beyond Fifth Avenue.”
“With some luck.” Harry’s eyes dim. “I’m lucky in some senses. Not so fortunate in others.”
“One’s fortune can always change, Mr. Peyton.”
