“Thank you,” I said again, pulling away.
He handed me a clean handkerchief, which I accepted to wipe away my tears. Then he gently laid the locket in my hand, closing my gloved fingers around it. “I can’t wait to see you presented to the queen.” With another smile, he bowed and then walked away.
As I looked down at the locket, so many emotions swirled in my mind and heart. For all my life, the only memories surrounding this piece of jewelry had been linked to a facelessset of parents. Now, Alec’s thoughtfulness and care would be linked to the keepsake, as well.
Two hours later, we sat in Lady Mandeville’s carriage, waiting our turn to alight and enter St. James’s Palace. My nerves were so frayed, I was afraid I might lose my lunch. The locket was securely stored in my room, and just knowing it was back, safe and sound, eased so many of the worries I had carried the past four days.
But it didn’t make me less nervous.
“You’re dreadfully pale, my dear,” Lady Mandeville said as she touched my knee. “Are you quite all right?”
Across from us, Aunt Maude and Alec stared my way. Aunt Maude would also be presented to Queen Victoria today. She wore a white gown and two white feathers in her hair, to indicate that she had been married. Alec would escort us into the castle and then part ways with us to go into the queen’s drawing room and wait with the other men before escorting us out.
“There’s no reason to be nervous,” he said to me. “You’ve faced Mrs. Astor, remember?”
My smile turned genuine as I thought of all the sincere compliments he’d paid me. Even if I failed today, at least Alec would still be proud of me.
When it was finally our turn to step out of the carriage at the North Gatehouse, I saw that twin octagonal turrets flanked the arched entrance like sentinels as a coat of arms stretched between them. The redbrick Tudor-style palace was weathered with time and had a fortress-like feel. I’d learned that after the death of Queen Victoria’s dear husband, Prince Albert, she had all but abandoned Buckingham Palace and lived in mourning inthe more formidable St. James’s Palace while in London. Here, she held her drawing room presentations but withdrew from most other parts of society.
Lady Mandeville lifted the train of my gown and slipped it over my left arm so it would stay clean and fresh for the presentation. She handed one of two cards she carried to a guard, indicating who she was and the names of the women she would be presenting to the queen.
The guards let us pass and we walked through the entrance and into a courtyard before we were directed to step into the palace. Dozens of other women were making their way to the queen’s drawing room, and we followed them, walking through several stately rooms.
My pulse beat fast, and sweat had begun to form little rivulets down my back.
Alec was instructed to part ways with us as we were shown to one of the antechambers to wait our turn. As I entered, the first person I saw was Louise Garfield with her mother and an older woman.
“Remember to take off your right glove,” Lady Mandeville said as she adjusted the feathers in my hair and looked me over with a critical eye, probably unaware of who Louise Garfield was.
I slowly pulled off the glove, though it wasn’t easy with the sweat gathering on my palms. Louise glanced my way but lifted her chin and turned back to her mother.
It didn’t pay to mention her to Aunt Maude, because Aunt Maude had already seen her and set her lips into a scowl.
“Don’t forget to bow to every member of the royal family who is standing with the queen,” Lady Mandeville said.
“Who might be with her?” I asked.
“It is likely the Prince of Wales and his wife, Princess Alexandra. It will be obvious who is royalty. They’ll stand alongside the queen.”
The chatter inside the anteroom made it hard to think. I just wanted this to be over. Lady Mandeville had sent out invitations for a tea party in my honor at her house after the ceremony, and then we would attend a ball given by the Earl and Countess of Hawthorne later that evening, where Lady Mandeville hoped to introduce me to the Duke of Severton. It would be a long and arduous day, flanked on both ends by important, stressful meetings.
One after the other, the women waiting in the antechamber were escorted out by footmen. Louise left soon after we arrived.
The young woman in front of me looked especially nervous. She was beautiful, with blond hair and marble blue eyes. Her mother was also being presented, but she pinched and plucked and patted her daughter until the young woman pulled away in frustration, tears in her eyes.
How well I understood what she was feeling, and when she glanced at me, I offered her a sympathetic smile.
She returned the smile, blinking away the tears. “Are you an American, as well?”
“Yes. I’m Clara Day Hill.” It was still hard to say my new name, but I extended my hand.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, taking my hand. “I’m Lily Parker.”
“Are you just as nervous as me?” I whispered, leaning a little closer to her, relieved to find a fellow compatriot.
“Dreadfully.”
“We’ll get through this together.”
