“Shh,” she whispers. “You’re humiliating yourself. For no reason. None at all.”
“I’m not the one making a show of mys—”
“Youare,” Alice says, glancing at the quickly filling parlor. “My darling friend, you are. I’ve suffered great hardship of late, and I think I see the same in you. It hasn’t been easy, your life, has it, Priscilla?”
Mrs. Ogden looks stunned by her sympathy. “I... N-no. It hasn’t. None of them. No one understands. I don’t have children to parade around. I don’t—”
“Neither do I,” Alice murmurs. “I understand. I would like to be your friend, if you’ll let me.”
Mrs. Ogden pauses as if paralyzed. Then she nods.
But as they progress into the parlor again, she grabs Alice once more, this time to whisper, “I was very beautiful once, you know. More beautiful than you.”
Alice smiles warmly. “And you still are.”
As Mrs. Ogden glides to chat with Mrs. Ames, mollified, Alice sits, hiding the shaking in her hands by tucking them beneath her skirts.
It feels an eternity before the party officially breaks up, everyone taking their leave in staggered clusters in the grand foyer.
Ward pats a few of the men on the back, grinning as he approaches Alice.
“Did he ask?” she whispers.
“Before the door was even shut, don’t you know,” Ward murmurs back. “Wanted to know all about those emerald mines. I told him they were privately held, and that no matter how much I try to convince you to open the family company up to foreign investors, you’ve remained firm. He reckons he can change your mind.”
As Mrs. Vandemeer approaches, heavy-lidded as she bids good night to a somewhat queasy-looking Harry—unaccustomed to Cuban cigars, no doubt—Alice turns to Cora. “Ah! I nearly forgot.”
She reaches around Cora’s swan neck to unclasp the necklace. She lets it pool in her hands before passing it to a vacant-looking Mrs. Vandemeer, Mimi standing by with a smirk triumphant enough for the both of them.
“Good night, and as always, my sincerest thanks,” Alice says. She catches the look on Harry’s face as she turns away. Positively stricken.
On the steps, he jogs to catch up to Cora and whisper in her ear before helping both her and Alice into their coach and bidding them good night with a tip of his hat.
“What did he say?” Alice asks once the carriage sets off.
“That Miss Vandemeer requires the, ah,ornament, whereas I do not.” Cora looks uncommonly pensive. “He asked to call on me. I suggested a walk in the park.”
“Good,” Alice says.
“The necklace,” Cora asks hesitantly. “Was giving it to them part of the plan?”
“No,” Alice admits after a leaden pause. “I’d meant to offer it as a sample to be evaluated and then returned to us, but after your boast of having so many jewels lying about, I was forced to improvise. We cannot let it show that this is the only stone we can afford. The one creates the illusion of many. Trouble is, we do not, in actuality, have the funds to purchase ‘the many.’”
“So what are we going to do now?” A moment of silence passes, then Cora huffs. “I can hear the wheels turning in your brain. You don’t have to do this in silence, you know. I might be able to contribute to the strategy if you’d only allow me a glimpse of it.”
Alice still doesn’t answer. Weariness has settled over her like an illness.
Funny. Improvisations aside, she’d expected to feel exhilaration at a moment like this. A pond full of fish, all of them readily taking the bait. But she feels nibbled away every moment she spends in their company. These parasites. These frauds.
Only a matter of months now, she reminds herself as she makes her way out of the carriage ahead of a still clearly frustrated Cora, past a quietly inquisitive Béa waiting at the door, and straight up to the blessed solitude of her own bed.Weeks, really. And once it’s all done...
Alice finds she can’t quite finish the thought.
For all her planning, all she can envision is a massive void.
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THE NEW YORK HERALD
