Alva was already laughing as she raised her thumbs—definitely crooked and curving outward. “That doesn’t prove anything,” she said, still cackling so loud, she snorted.
“Remember what you did to Miss Naisy at the beach?” asked Armide.
“You mean our governess?” Alva shook her head, remembering the day Miss Naisy refused to let Alva go swimming. Well, Alva wasn’t having it. In great defiance and with great delight, she ran away from the governess and plunged into the water. She refused to come out, eventually making Miss Naisy go in after her, clothes and all. Alva’s mother got the strap out after that, but Alva never regretted her actions for a second.
“And didn’t you torture your reading tutor?” asked Jennie.
“I didn’t torture her—please, I wasn’t that bad. I may have nudged her off her stool once.”
“That’s right—you shoved her right onto the floor.”
“Well, I didn’t like her, and I didn’t want to read the book she selected,” said Alva with a shoulder shrug. “She quit on the spot.”
“And you got another lashing for it,” said Julia.
“Yes, but I didn’t have to read that book,” said Alva with a tinge of pride. She would willingly accept any punishment in exchange for getting her own way first. The one thing she could not and would not tolerate was being controlled. By anyone. Fearless and emboldened by that very fearlessness, she did as she pleased, bending and often breaking the rules.
“Mama couldn’t take her eyes off you for a second,” said Jennie, passing baby Consuelo on to Armide, who was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner.
“Alva wouldn’t let her,” Julia laughed, crouching down to look at the baby in her sister’s arms. “You always had to have Mama’s attention. All of her attention. You’d do things just to rile her up. You’d rather she get out the riding crop than ignore you.”
Alva couldn’t deny that. They were playfully ganging up on her, three against one, but she didn’t mind. She was enjoying it, welcoming more teasing, when suddenly Consuelo let out a robust wail. It was hard to believe that such a tiny figure could have produced something so loud, so shrill. In an instant everyone’s focus was back on the baby. As her sisters circled even closer around Consuelo, Alva realized it was the first time she’d been willing to be overshadowed. Call it a mother’s pride, but her daughter was an extension of herself. Alva understood that, for the rest of her life, she would be sharing center stage with her daughter.
* * *
—
When Willie K. returned, he came upstairs and, without a word, dropped down in the chair beside her bed. He was exhausted.
“Has the family emergency been resolved?” she asked, adjusting the baby blanket, tucking it under Consuelo’s chin.
“Hardly,” Willie said, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Uncle Jeremiah is contesting Grandfather’s will.”
“Can you blame him?” Good for you, Jeremiah, she thought. Good for you.
“He’s being very stubborn. If anyone ever questioned whether or not the man is raving mad, well”—he shook his head, bewildered—“here’s your proof. Father even offered him an additional $250,000 and he turned it down.”
“That’s an insult coming from your father, and you know it.” She heard herself and thought, Since when is $250,000 an insult? Jeremiah’s words echoed in her head: The Vanderbilts are ruthless people. They get in your system. They’ll warp your mind if you let them . . .
“That’s not the point. My uncle is not a responsible man. Never has been. It’s for his own good. I know you’re awfully fond of him but please, Alva, do us all a favor and cut ties with him.”
“Pfft.” That was not about to happen, and the mere suggestion made her all the more determined to see Jeremiah as soon as she’d recovered from the birth.
“I mean it, Alva. He’s trouble.” Willie blew out a deep breath and stared at the floor. “Uncle Jeremiah is holding us all hostage. The money’s locked up until this whole mess gets resolved. There’s nothing we can do now but wait. And who knows what will be left by then and what we’ll end up with.”
What we’ll end up with? Alva looked at him, feeling her eyes growing wider.
“We’ll have to put the new house on hold for now.”
“What?” She was crestfallen. She thought that whatever Jeremiah was owed would have come directly out of Billy’s money. It didn’t occur to her that Jeremiah could interfere with Willie’s inheritance, too. She’d been counting on that money for their new house, to help them establish all the Vanderbilts in society, to pave the way for their child and more children to come.
The family emergency had just taken on a whole new meaning for her, too, because now this was affecting her plans. It was endangering her daughter’s future. She found her heart conflicted, her support of Jeremiah collapsing, sudden as an avalanche. Perhaps she was becoming a Vanderbilt after all.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Caroline
Caroline heard the piano music trilling from the ballroom as the Pendletons’ butler escorted her down a long hallway, graced with family portraits and enormous tapestries. Caroline was hoping to slip quietly inside but she was hardly inconspicuous. She attracted attention and altered the atmosphere of every room she entered. So when she stepped inside the Pendletons’ ballroom, she was not surprised that all eyes turned her way. The cotillion leader, Peter Marié, stopped calling out figures, and the dancers came to a standstill. The fifteen or so chaperones—including Ward McAllister—seated along the perimeter of the ballroom rose to pay homage to her.
Everyone seemed pleased to have her there except her daughters. She saw Charlotte and Carrie flatten down, their wings clipped. Charlotte had rolled her eyes when Caroline first entered the room and Carrie’s brow had creased, her cheeks flushed pink. Caroline felt a stab to her heart.
When had she become the enemy? There was a time when they always wanted to be around her, the closer the better, all of them fighting over who got to perch on her lap, hold her hand, sit next to her. Now they behaved as if wanting nothing to do with her. Didn’t they understand that Caroline had already lost Emily to James Van Alen? Caroline wished now that she’d used a firmer hand with Emily and had put her foot down when the couple first started courting. And even though Helen was now engaged to Rosy Roosevelt and Caroline had gotten rid of Duncan Briar, she still couldn’t risk Charlotte or Carrie marrying the wrong man.
“Please,” Caroline said to everyone with a dismissive wave of her hand, “continue.”