“You look exquisite,” Lucy said.
“Queenly,” Cordelia made herself add.
“Thank you,” Penelope said. “But you two haven’t gotten ready yet yourselves.”
“Why don’t you go down to the great hall, and Lucy and I will join you as quickly as we can.”
Miss Vaughn had to open the door and Penelope edged through it sideways—her skirt was so enormous. Cordelia felt relieved to see her go.
“You’re next, Lucy,” Cordelia said, and went to unbutton her friend’s day dress.
Miss Vaughn reverently carried the gorgeous yellow gown and they put it on Lucy. It was the perfect shade to compliment Lucy’s bright red hair. Cordelia helped her put on her gloves and headdress. The matching beaded mask covered her friend’s eyes, but there was no mistaking who Lucy truly was. Her friend picked up the torch and held it above her head, pressing the button so the light turned on.
“You look magnificent!” Cordelia said, forcing a smile to match her enthusiastic words. “Now all you need is Prince Charming.”
Lucy giggled and blushed. “Prince Albert Louis is very handsome and quite charming, but I am sure if he knew the circumstances of my birth, he would not be interested in me.”
Cordelia took her friend’s hands and focused her mind on Lucy’s needs. “You are not responsible for your birth, and in my opinion, you are worthy of anyone, including princes.”
“Here, here,” Miss Vaughn said. “Now, my lady, no more dawdling. We need to get you dressed.”
“Luce—you should go down without me, otherwise you’ll give me away.”
Lucy pointed the torch at Cordelia and pressed the button to light it up. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
They both giggled and Lucy left the room.
Miss Vaughn helped Cordelia put on the high-collared dress that represented the noble English queen. The gown wasn’t as striking as the dainty pink one of Marie Antoinette, but it was made of dark crimson velvet, and the skirt did not require a crinoline to form it. Miss Vaughn put the large, curly red-haired wig on her. The collar around her neck was enormous! She glanced at her reflection and nearly laughed; still, she hoped that Thomas cared for her enough to recognize her in it.
Cordelia knew her husband was fond of her, but fondness paled in the face of love. She wanted it all. Maybe if Penelope went to America with Blanche, Thomas could finally let go of his feelings for her. Maybe, like Cordelia’s for Stuyvesant, they would fade to only caring or dim in comparison to the relationship that he had with his wife. For the life they had together.
Or Thomas might continue to love Penelope, and Cordelia would be between him and the woman he loved. Maybe she would always be a stranger in her own home. A foreign interloper whose ways did not belong.
Cordelia did belong in America. If she left with Stuyvesant, he would love her. She had friends and family in New York City. She knew that she could be happy there again. Perhaps she would grow to love him like she did Thomas. Stuyvesant was breathtakingly handsome and he radiated strength. She would also be close enough to see her sister, Edith, often. Maybe even repair her damaged relationships with her parents.
“I’ll powder your face,” Miss Vaughn said. “I heard once that, when Queen Elizabeth I died, she had over an inch of powder on her face.”
Cordelia sneezed and white powder dusted the air. She laughed and Miss Vaughn did too. Although, there was nothing to laugh about. Her life was a complicated disaster. Miss Vaughn continued to powder her face until Cordelia couldn’t see any of her freckles. She then placed the black velvet mask over her eyes. Cordelia didn’t recognize herself and she was sure that Stuyvesant or Thomas would not either. Not until the unveiling at midnight. More time for her to process her own feelings. To make her choice.
After wanting to go home for so long, she felt reluctant to leave England. To leave Ashdown Abbey, after she’d worked so hard to make it feel more like a home and less like a mausoleum.
Her silliest concern was that her successor would not separate the food into different tins for the poor but continue the precedent of putting them all together mishmash. She’d already purchased new books for the school children, but she didn’t want to miss their spring music concert that they’d been preparing for. There was so much she could do to improve the lives of the people who lived near Ashdown. So much that she wanted to do.
Cordelia was no longer interested in a purely social life, a life of endless parties and social engagements. She looked forward to the London Season, but she was excited to return to Ashdown and her philanthropic works. She wanted to make a positive difference in the world. She wanted to be remembered for more than her jewels and her exquisite wardrobe. She wanted to be a woman who made a difference in the world. Who made her community a better place for everyone, not just the wealthy or well-born.
Truthfully, most of her hesitation was because of Thomas. She realized now that she loved him. But he didn’t love her. Would staying with him bring her more misery than leaving?
Miss Vaughn added some lavender scent to Cordelia’s wrists. “Do you need anything else, my lady?”
“No, you did marvelously, as always, Miss Vaughn,” Cordelia said, and hugged the older woman, whom she viewed as a strict but loving granny.
Miss Vaughn blushed fiercely and was fighting a smile. “My lady, you’re not supposed to hug the staff.”
“Are we not friends yet?”
Miss Vaughn lost the battle and allowed the smallest of smiles. “’Tis not proper, my lady. What would Mrs. Norton say if she saw?”
“I am never entirely proper, Miss Vaughn,” Cordelia said, and left the room.
