Kicking up some unnecessary dust in our direction, just like in a movie.But I guess dirty is better than trampled.
“Good afternoon, Lydia.You have gotten better at stopping,” Leo says to the new arrival.
Lydia, whoever she is, tosses her hair back in a movement not unlike one the horse she’s on would do.“I told you I could learn myself.And that I do not need useless riding lessons from pompous men who will not let me go fast.”
“Good, because we cannot afford lessons from anyone, pompous or otherwise,” Leo says.“Your Royal Highness, may I present my sister, Lydia Clifford-Alston?Little Pest, this is Her Royal Highness Meera Chopra, of the Cooch Behar royal family.One of the nieces.”
“Oh, Indian royalty!So you are spending time with Victoria’s newest ward?”
“If even you have heard about it, pest, news must be travelling swiftly.”He gives me a wink, excited that our plan is working.
“Do you know he’s poor?”Lydia asks, getting back at Leo for the pest comments.
“I heard.”I get on my tiptoes to whisper-talk the next part.“I am too.”
“Such a shame for us all.”Lydia clicks her tongue in disappointment and dismounts off the horse as gracefully as she rode him.“So I shall have to marry a rich old man then?”The words are glib but there’s a tension in her shoulders and around her mouth.
Leo sighs, rubbing his forehead with the arm not holding mine.“I am working on our finances.I think we have time before we have to resort to rich, old men.It is not like they are in short supply.”
“Unfortunately.”Whatever else Lydia was going to say is cut off by a disheveled-looking woman on horseback, calling Lydia’s name.Going much slower than Lydia was when she approached us.
“Can you please stop irritating your chaperone?”Leo asks.
“Probably not.Got to dash, Leo.Love you.”Lydia gets back on her horse and gallops off, followed by the beleaguered chaperone.Anne must be happy that at least we’re not on horseback, although after making her walk for probably more than ten thousand steps today, she might prefer the horseback option.
“Love you too, Little Pest.”Leo waves after his sister.
“Your sister seems nice.”
The obvious affection between the two is making me miss home.I’m an only child, but I miss my family and friends.All of whom haven’t even been born yet.I don’t even live close to my family since they’re in San Jose where I grew up, and I moved to L.A.for college and then my job.But the fact that they’rethisfar away, geographically and temporally, makes missing them even worse.It intensifies the ache that I’ve had since I realized when I was.
When will they notice I’m gone?Mom calls every few days, so it should be soon.And then she’ll worry.Which makes me feel worse.
But there’s nothing I can do about that now.
Leo snorts.“That is kind of you to say.”
“No kindness about it.She’s sassy and I like it.”
“That is not usually seen as a positive.Mother blames me for it, for spending so much time with Lydia and teaching her to be like me, but when we were in the country, there were not many others to play with.And no one else can understand what it is like to be different.I might have had friends, but I could not speak to them about wanting to visit India or feeling like I missed out never having seen it.”
“Where I’m from it…” Nope.Can’t go into those details.“Well, some people can empathize with that feeling.”I want to tell him more about me, that I’ve got complicated feelings about the thousand directions immigrants and their children are pulled in, from not wanting to forget their past but trying to embrace their future, and how what that balance ends up being looks different for every person.And then everyone has opinions on that balance, from those outside and even those inside the community.It’s what made me want to study historic immigrants in the first place.But that might get complicated if I start going into details.
“Then we should get on a ship and all go to where you are from.Because I do not think anyone here appreciates her finer points or understands us.”Leo casts a dark look around at the people walking in the park.
We keep walking, making light conversation until we’ve seen and been seen by what seems like everyone in the English aristocracy.
Near the end of the walk, back by the carriage, we’re stopped by an elegantly dressed young woman, thick brown hair piled atop her head, showing a long and graceful neck, her back as stiff as a board which she unbends slightly to do the absolute minimum to classify as a bow.She’s covered in the finest clothes and dripping in the shiniest jewelry, so whoever she is, she’s rich.“Lord Basildon.”
“Miss Vanderbilt.”Leo bows back at her and I awkwardly do the half bow thing I did to Victoria.If it was good enough for a queen…
“I keep hearing your name wherever I go lately,” she says, in an American accent.Miss Vanderbilt…at this time, with her appearance…that’s Consuelo Vanderbilt!She’s about to enter into one of the most famous and most scandalous (and most unhappy, unfortunately) cash-for-title marriages of all time when she marries the Duke of Marlborough later this year.She’s actually named after her godmother Consuelo Yznaga, who was also an American socialite that got married to a nobleman who needed money.This happened so many times between rich Gilded Age Americans and poor but titled European families (over 400 times) that people called them dollar princesses.
For the hundredth time, I wish I had my journal.
“Hopefully only good things,” Leo says with a charming smile.
“Not entirely terrible ones.You’ve been at the palace twice in two days.”
