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Samuel fanned his face with the napkin, evidently so flustered, all etiquette escaped him.

“Now, now, Orris. We shan’t have anyone rustled up. Do try to be cordial, lest we assault Mama’s nerves,” Myrtle said. She had taken a seat nearest Orris and gently patted her hands as she spoke to her.

“You see! This is what we have had to grapple with. She is not even serious about her prospects. I am afraid her behavior will ruin my own opportunities.” Violetta managed to make her distress so plain, it could not have had more of an impact if literal tears had streamed from her eyes and into her plate.

“Ma’am,” Mama’s maid said, having entered at some point during Violetta’s hysterics. Fields was a tall woman, near commanding in stature. The deep, violet hue of her dress contrasted with her graying hair and fair, pearl complexion, yet it suited her. Her normally placid features had turned grave, her lips pressed thin, coupled with a deep crease in the center of her forehead.

“Yes, Fields?” Mama replied, still mopping her forehead with her luncheon napkin. She rarely called her ‘Cora’ in front of the other staff.

“May I speak with you in private? Should take but a moment, ma’am.”

Orris practically broke into a sweat. She had to have discovered something. Otherwise, she would have said it in front of everyone.

“No, these are my children. We do not hide anything from one another,” Mama said.

Orris slumped in her seat. The words only served to make her feel worse. Her mother was a few things she could think of—haughty and preoccupied with status and reputation, for example—but she was no liar. And that was exactly what Gladys had made Orris. She could practically feel the guilt against her as it leeched onto her skin.

“Well, there is a… a… discovery of sorts,” Fields stammered.

Without waiting a mere second after the words hung over the room like smog from Whitechapel, Gladys stepped into the room.

“Hello, my dear family,” Gladys said as she moved around the maid. Holding her arms out as if she were in a Christmas pageant, she smiled at everyone. Wearing one of Orris’s pink tea dresses, Gladys looked very pretty with the rays of sun shining against even-toned bronze skin, even though she was in completely the wrong place. Her light-brown eyes were wet with unshed tears, from either shame or fear. Orris was not quite sure which. Might had been a bit of both.

“My Lord, what are you doing here?” Mama asked, standing with both hands clutched at her side. The napkin was balled in her fist and appeared to be the only thing tethering her to the planet.

“Gladys,” Myrtle exclaimed before running over to her.

Orris caught Vi staring at her before heartily shaking her head.

Gladys stepped into Myrtle’s waiting arms. When they broke apart, Myrtle ran a hand over Gladys’s cheek, as if sympathetic to her cousin’s plight.

Orris turned to look at Mama, then to Samuel. Both seemed to have unasked questions on their lips.

“Aunt Seraphine, I could not return home. I was to be wed to a cretin. Papa would not hear of any other solution,” Gladys said, holding on to Myrtle as they walked over to the table. “I am sorry for taking refuge in your home without permission. I had nowhere else in the city to take shelter.”

“Your father will seize the ship and demand they turn around to retrieve you. Whatever were you thinking?” Mama stomped around the table, the heel of her boots sounding out in an angry staccato against the marble.

“I was thinking I could not marry someone with a foot in the grave and so long in tooth. And I was thinking what a charmed life my cousins live. In my haste, I had not considered consequences.” Gladys looked between all of them, her eyes brimming with tears. “I thought I should stay with you, where I am loved and not one of my father’s assets.”

Mama took a few more steps closer to her then opened her arms wide. Once they’d embraced one another, Gladys clung to her as if she had been unable to stand on her own for even a second more.

“What am I to do with you girls?” Mama whispered to no one in particular. “I guess you will have to stay here until we figure all of this out. I will need to brace myself for your father’s wrath.”

“I realize. I apologize, Aunt Seraphine.”

Orris glanced around at her siblings, all of whom wore sympathetic expressions. Even Violetta, who appeared for the first time in the longest while to be thinking of someone other than herself and her own marriage prospects. For, as much as luck had shined on Mama and Myrtle, were they not all chess pieces to be moved around at a man’s whims?

“Well, come have something to eat. And after luncheon, we shall find you something to wear for the family portrait.” Mama released her and guided Gladys to the table to the seat next to Samuel.

Mama did not ask about Orris’s part in hiding Gladys within the home for half a day. Orris suspected Mama knew, but thankfully, she would not have to admit it in front of everyone.

She had already suffered a cheek ache for her behavior over Thomas. With the relief of having the most recent mess in the open, Orris could resume her melancholy over the loss of her friend. Returning to her seat, she wondered if the feelings of sadness would ever finally abate.

Chapter Four

The home at 91 Park Lane was far grander than Abram had imagined. The rest of the city was older, and while those buildings’ charm shone through in the ways that mattered for society, the newer-constructed houses flaunted wealth and status in a brazen manner. He imagined everything he had heard about Americans, their fearlessness and bold way of living, was exemplified in the home before which he stood.

“Are you quite sure you wouldn’t prefer my company? I am your valet, after all,” Rowan said.