“How do you do?” all three of them responded.
“Your niece?” Mrs. Vanderbilt asked Aunt Maude. “I wasn’t aware that you had a niece.”
“Oh?” Aunt Maude said absently. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned her before.”
“Hill?” Mrs. Whitney asked. “Then she’s your husband’s niece? I thought Mr. Paxton-Hill was your only nephew from your husband’s side of the family.”
“He is,” she said without hesitation. “Clara is from my side of the family. I’ve adopted her, so she’s taken on my last name.”
“Adopted?” Mrs. Vanderbilt’s eyebrows rose. “When did this happen?”
“It was just finalized yesterday, as a matter of fact. I’ve always wanted a daughter and Clara was orphaned, so I decided to make her my heiress.”
Mrs. Vanderbilt and Mrs. Whitney studied me as Aunt Maude spoke, their calculating gazes taking in every detail. Miss Evelyn Whitney seemed a bit distracted and did not seem as concerned with my recent arrival. Did the older women believe I was Maude’s niece? I didn’t look anything like her, but that wasn’t necessary.
“And where do you come from, Miss Hill?” Mrs. Vanderbilt asked.
We had prepared for this question, so I was ready with an answer. We’d chosen somewhere far away that hinted at a lack of refinement to cover my faux pas—yet familiar enough that it wouldn’t seem farfetched.
“St. Paul,” I said.
“St. Paul?” Mrs. Whitney asked. “How primitive.”
“Her father was a lumber baron,” Aunt Maude explained. “St. Paul is a growing city, but it lacks the sophistication of New York. I’m eager to introduce her to society as soon as the holidays are through, and of course, she has much to learn.”
“I’ll be sure to send around an invitation,” Mrs. Whitney said, “but we must be going. I see my husband and son waiting for us. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hill.”
“And you,” I said with a nod, trying to hide the fact that I felt ill as I clung to Alec’s arm.
The ladies moved past, and Aunt Maude turned her pleased face to me. “Very good, Clara. Those are two of the wealthiest and most influential ladies in New York—at least, among those outside Mrs. Astor’s circle. An invitation to Mrs. Whitney’s home is a major step in the right direction.”
She paused, her back stiffening, as a family approached.
“Garfield,” Alec said under his breath. “What does he want?”
The Garfield family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Garfield and a young lady, who I presumed to be Louise Garfield. She was very pretty, with dark hair and blue, calculating eyes.
“Mrs. Hill,” Mr. Garfield said as he nodded at Aunt Maude. “Mr. Paxton-Hill,” he said as he acknowledged Alec. When his gaze landed on me, he paused.
“Mr. Garfield,” Aunt Maude said with pride in her voice. “May I present my niece, Miss Clara Day Hill?”
“Daughter,” Alec corrected her quietly.
“Oh yes,” Aunt Maude said. “I’ve adopted Clara and made her my heiress.”
Introductions were made and Louise and I curtseyed properly, though I felt her eyeing me like the competition I was.
“We’re thinking about making a trip to Europe this coming spring,” Aunt Maude said, as if it was a passing thought and not something we spoke about dozens of times a day.
“Oh?” Mrs. Garfield asked, pursing her lips.
“I’ve heard you’re planning a trip, as well,” Aunt Maude continued.
“Why, yes. We are.”
“Perhaps we’ll run into one another while we’re there.” Aunt Maude’s voice was cool.
“Perhaps we will.” Mrs. Garfield gave her husband a look. He blundered on about needing to get home to his Christmas luncheon and the family moved on.
