Page 1 of The Gilded Masquerade

Chapter I

Debutante in Training

“My dear Elizabeth, control your fidgeting,” Aunt Madeline stated, calling her from her thoughts. Her aunt’s sparkling blue eyes and timeless, beautiful face fixed on her wringing hands.

“Yes, Aunt.” Folding her hands on her lap, she glanced at her beloved uncle seated across from them in the landau. The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly to comfort her.

“I think our Lizzy is terribly vexed, my dear Mrs. Gardiner. After all, an invitation to Lady Anne Darcy’s annual Christmas masquerade is not only advantageous, but it is also her public debut as Eliza Gardiner.”

“You are quite right, Mr. Gardiner. Please try to remember, Elizabeth, you are a Gardiner now. One whiff of Bennet contamination, even here, will doom us all to the hedgerows.”

She smiled acquiescently, pulled the fur trim of her dolman up around her neck, and settled back into the plush velvet cushion. “I understand. I’m extremely grateful to you both and have grown quite fond of being addressed as Miss Gardiner at school. To bear the name and the lineage fills me with pride,” she said, meaning it from her heart.

The Gardiners were Long Island “Nobs” from old English money. The Bennets had briefly been New York City new money “Swells,” but as “the cut” dictated, they were once again plebeian, commoners, working class, even her former debutante Gardiner mother.

Looking out the window at the pitch night where the moon shone bright through the snow-covered trees, she half-listened to husband and wife continue their discussion on the fortuitous merits of the invitation. At only seventeen, she would neither comment nor reflect further on the weight of responsibility she felt from its implications. From the start of guardianship before leaving for school, Uncle had promised there would be no matchmaking until she completed a debutante’s education in Switzerland at the age of nineteen. Entrance into the marriage mart would only come after her complete transformation. Such was her fate; such was the reason for Aunt and Uncle’s guardianship for the last eighteen months. And thankfully, no two people were as dear or trustworthy to her.

“Remain vigilant that your goal tonight is to watch and learn from those who are well entrenched in perfect propriety. We are not here to secure a match with British aristocracy, now or in the future. Your sights, when the time comes, will be set on being installed among American aristocracy who are not in need of Gardiner wealth which is not limitless,” Aunt cautioned.

“I understand. My future marriage will provide for a comfortable life for my Bennet relations and possibly secure agreeable matches for my sisters.” And continued care for Jane.

“Precisely. I do believe the heiress Elizabeth Chanler and her young brother William will be in attendance tonight. I have heard she is on the prowl for any titled gentleman,” her aunt segued. “Thankfully, she is Jane’s contemporary and not likely to recognize Elizabeth Bennet.”

“I promise not to remove my mask.”

Aunt Madeline smiled. “Certainly, the burgeoning beauty beside me would give the Astor offspring a run for her money, but as you say, it will be quite a masquerade on all our behalf. You must maintain anonymity.”

“Aunt, you do me great honor by your compliment, but I have no horse in this race, nor a dowry to bet with.”

“As I said, not tonight, but when you return to New York society as a Self-Made Girl, you will be quite skilled and financially prepared to go to war with the best of them. Perhaps John Astor will be eager to make a suitable match by then. I have it on good authority—”

With a distracting flourish to his arm, Uncle Edward removed his pocket watch from his waistcoat, snapped it open, then snapped it closed. “Dash it! Can one never escape New York ballroom canards even when in the English countryside?”

“Not that I’m interested in society gossip—or warfare, for that matter—but I do find the marriage mart an interesting sport, much like polo or, more accurately, fox hunting,” she joked.

“Indeed,” Uncle agreed with a rumbling chuckle. “And Mrs. Gardiner is expert at the hunt, to which your cousin, Alice, will attest.”

Aunt Madeline huffed, adjusting her peacock-feathered mask. “I am quite proud of the match our daughter made.”

Uncle scoffed, giving voice to what everyone in the family thought of the pompous do-nothing stuffed-shirt old enough to be Alice’s father, but she had married well, and that accounted for everything.

“Speaking of New York battles, you have not mentioned the mayoral election, Uncle.”

Again, he scoffed. “We shall see. Hewitt smashed the socialist, and he vows to protect us from unnecessary taxation. Still, his alliance with Tammany Hall and their rancid corruption is terribly worrisome.”

“And what of the young assemblyman you were all in for?”

“Roosevelt, a fine young man, but he didn’t stand a Chinaman’s chance. We tried, but the blasted party swung for Hewitt.”

The carriage rattled and shook as it hit a depression in the road.

“Understandably so, but those in trade must have a champion,” she offered, not that she believed creeping socialism was the next utopia in American politics or an answer to man’s plight. “Was not Roosevelt’s mother a Confederate sympathizer?—The very people who plotted to burn New York City to the ground?”

“Elizabeth, you must keep your outside interests and opinions on such matters to yourself. There is nothing more unfashionable than a woman who appears to know more than men—even if true.”

“Yes, Aunt. I will, but I know how invested Uncle was in the political campaign. As taught in school, I was making polite small talk about his affairs. If I were to talk about my own delights, I would have inquired about the battle between Edison and Westinghouse and the state of alternating versus direct currents. I shall champion Westinghouse until my dying breath.”

“Very well. I will not pretend to comprehend what you are referencing, but need I remind you that when in public, no topic of absorbing interest should enter polite conversation. Perchance, it may lead to discussion and no one wants to be party to political discord, no matter how sympathetic you may feel toward tradesmen and parvenues—the other plight on New York society.” Aunt softly smiled, unable to resist her kind nature by acknowledging Lizzy’s unconventional, free-spirited interests.