He grinned. “Splendidly. Not a person out of place. Quite a feat in this company.”
“I studied the Table of Precedence for hours to plan the table setting.”
He laughed. “No one would guess that.”
Thayne served the wine. The footmen served the two soups simultaneously; one was hot and one was cold. Cordelia managed a few bites of each, but her stomach rolled nervously. The next course was two fishes with sauces; again, one fish was hot and the other one was cold. The footmen cleared their plates and served the meat dish, followed by an orange sorbet. The next course was pheasant, which was followed with a hot savory and port wine. At last, it was time to eat the beautiful fruits that decorated the table. Cordelia took a few grapes and bit one.
She was still chewing, when she saw Lady Grimsby stand up and start to walk toward the door. Other ladies stood but looked at Cordelia.
Lord Oxenbury touched her arm. “Never have I seen anything so rude; don’t move. Lady Grimsby’s trying to undermine you as hostess.”
The hostess was supposed to give the signal for the ladies to leave the room, never a guest. For a moment, Cordelia sat as still as she would have if she had an iron rod strapped to her neck and shoulders—which her mother had used on her as a child to improve her posture. The ladies in the room sat back down in their seats. Cordelia then stood up and walked to the door where the Marchioness of Grimsby was standing.
“Are you ill, Lady Grimsby?”
“No, certainly not. Why should I be ill?” she said imperiously.
“Then there is no other polite excuse for your hasty exit.”
Lady Grimsby blushed from her pointy chin to her beak-like nose. Cordelia did not flinch but waited for Lady Grimsby to sit back down at the table before sitting down herself. Lois caught her eye and winked at her. Cordelia finished eating her fruit and looked around the table to make sure that every other lady was done. She then stood up and gave the signal to the other ladies that it was time to retire to the library, while the men stayed for a half hour longer to drink coffee and liqueurs and smoke cigars.
She was nervous to take the lead but kept her head high, her mother’s training coming back to her. Lois linked arms with her and Lucy, and together they led the other thirteen women in yet another procession.
“You’re doing brilliantly,” Lois assured her.
“You were so brave,” Lucy agreed.
The footmen opened the door to the former dining room turned parlor, where Mr. Perkins, a professional organist, was playing Brahms on the grand piano. She was fond of Brahms, but not as fond as she was of Chopin or Beethoven. She watched his fingers move competently over the keys. Perhaps she was biased, but she thought that her fingers were just as proficient. If only women could be professional pianists like men were. She would be able to take care of herself without her father’s money or her mother’s social position or her husband’s title.
Mr. Perkins played continually for a half hour, while the ladies chatted. It seemed a travesty to Cordelia that his polished performance merited so little attention. Her mother-in-law moved next to her.
“A very creditable dinner, Cordelia.”
“Thank you, Blanche.”
“You sat me in the correct position, but I confess, I am used to a more prominent seat at the table. It makes me feel quite low to no longer be important.”
Cordelia put a hand over her mouth. “I am so sorry.”
“No, you did right,” Blanche said, and patted her shoulder in a motherly way. “But I was wondering, are there many countesses in America?”
She blinked. “Uh, no. There are no titles in America, so the only people with titles are visitors.”
The dowager licked her lips. “So, if I were to go to America, thenIwould be the most important person at parties?”
“Yes,” Cordelia said, finally catching on to her mother-in-law’s idea and finding it a marvelous one. “I am sure there would be no end to hostesses wishing for you to grace their parties, and they would seat you in the most prominent place at the table.”
“Are there handsome young men in America?”
She thought of Stuyvesant, who was a great deal too young for her mother-in-law. “Yes, yes, there are many handsome young men.”
“I shouldn’t wish for Penelope to marry a plain man. They might have ugly children,” Blanche said with a visible shiver.
“Of course not,” Cordelia agreed. “Are you planning on taking Penelope to America?”
“I am thinking of it,” she said. “Are all the handsome young men as rich as you are?”
Cordelia opened her mouth before she had words to speak. She didn’t want to lie, but she also didn’t want to discourage this delightful plan. Cordelia was already weary of their forced foursome. “Yes, there are handsome young men who are as rich as me.”
