My nerves thrummed as George and I stood at the front of the group. My gloved hand was wrapped around his elbow, and he pressed it close to his side. When I looked up at him, his gaze was filled with tenderness and longing. He smiled, and I knew that before the night was through, he would speak of marriage again. I would try to avoid the conversation, but it would be impossible to give him the cold shoulder. He was too dear to me for that.
Finally, it was our turn to descend the stairs. My legs were shaking so hard, I was afraid I would fall down the steps—but George was steady at my side. He grinned with pride as we entered the foyer, where the overflow from the ballroom watched.
I tried not to look for Alec, but I couldn’t help it. There were so many people, it was almost impossible to discern one from the next.
George led me out of the foyer and into the center of the massive ballroom. The walls were covered in floor-to-ceiling mirrors and draped with yards and yards of floral garland. Where had they found so many flowers in March? It was inconceivable. The newspapers claimed that Mrs. Vanderbilt had spent over $250,000 on this one party.
There were three orchestras in the house, but the one in the ballroom would play the French minuet for us. We’d practiced for hours upon hours, until I dreamt about the dance in my sleep. Yet with all eyes upon me, I was suddenly drawing a blank and couldn’t remember a single step.
George caught my eye as we took our place. He offered me an encouraging smile, with a slight nod.
I took a deep breath, feeling calmer in his presence.
We began to dance, and my body quickly took control. I held a fan in my hand and used it as part of the quadrille. We stepped, hopped, turned, and bowed in a beautifully choreographed pattern. George continued to smile as we met and then moved apart and then met again. He seemed completely unaware of all the people watching and only had eyes for me.
He was such a wonderful man. How could I turn down his proposal? It seemed ludicrous. He and I enjoyed discussing books while sitting quietly together in Aunt Maude’s parlor. He was intelligent and passionate about science, art, forestry, and so many other topics. I never tired of talking to him. Unlike some of his other family members, he didn’t see his wealth as something to be paraded about or exploited. He wanted to do good with the blessings he’d been given. Saying no to marrying him was just as preposterous as everything else I’d experienced since moving into Aunt Maude’s house.
We danced for almost fifteen minutes, and when our quadrille came to an end, we bowed at each other and then at the audience as they clapped enthusiastically.
Mrs. Vanderbilt stood nearby with Mrs. Astor and both of their faces were very pleased.
George offered me his arm as we moved to the edges of the dance floor to watch the next group descend and enter the ballroom.
“You were magnificent,” George said to me, leaning close, for my ears alone. “I almost feel sorry for all the other young women in our quadrille. No one noticed anyone else but you.”
“George,” I said, playfully chastising him.
“It’s true. Look. They’re still watching you.”
I did as he suggested and glanced around the room. Dozens of men and women were still looking at me. But it was only one man who caught my eye and made me pause.
Alec.
It took another hour before the real dancing began. As soon as the Spanish-themed quadrille, the last one of the evening, came to an end, Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt walked to the center of the room and the orchestra began a waltz.
“May I have the first dance?” George asked me.
“Of course.”
“And the last?”
I glanced toward the other side of the room where I had seen Alec, but everyone had moved and he had disappeared.
George waited, so I smiled and nodded. “I would be honored.”
His grin was wide and infectious as he took my dance card and filled in his name, then whisked me onto the dance floor.
Here, we were surrounded by people, but no one could hear us as we moved over the parquet floor. I was not surprised when George spoke to me again.
“I’m in love with you,” he said. It was obvious he was nervous, but he didn’t let it stop him. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Clara. I love seeing the world through your eyes. You’re intelligent, kind, and you make everything come alive in a way it never has before. I’m excited about the future and all the places we could see and experience together. I want to marry you, if you’ll have me.”
“Oh, George.”
He shook his head, as if to stop me. “I know what you’re going to say, Clara.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because hope is a dangerous mistress. It makes us do and say things we know we’ll regret, though we can’t help ourselves.”
