Duke of a Gilded Age (5 page)

He tossed his apple core into the artfully painted tin wastebasket and washed his face and hands in the lavatory basin. As Wesley dried himself off with one of the fluffy white towels hanging from a rack, he stared at his reflection in the mirror.
In these clothes, I really
do
look a lot like Father.
A sudden pang of loneliness was followed closely by a surge of anger toward his uncle.
My father should be here to enjoy these luxuries. If only Uncle Septimus had made up with him years earlier, my father’s death could have been averted.

His mother’s voice carried from the sitting room. “Wesley, a waiter has arrived to take our lunch order.”

“I’ll be right there,” he called out.

Before he rejoined his mother and the Oakhursts in the sitting room, Wesley wiped the frown from his face. Despite his surge of melancholy, he was determined to do nothing to upset his mother.

As the cab carried Mr. Oakhurst, Belle, Lady Frederic, and Wesley down Fifth Avenue, Belle marveled at the impressive office buildings and fashionable shops lining both sides of the boulevard. The sidewalks were crowded with well-dressed people either out for a stroll or transacting business. City workers swept the street with push brooms, taking care to avoid the horses trotting past. Belle exchanged an excited glance with Lady Frederic.

“Now I understand what Mr. Darling meant earlier,” Belle said. “You can buy anything you want here!”

Lady Frederic gave a girlish giggle. “I confess, it feels like Christmas day.”

“Don’t buy too much, Mother,” Wesley said. “You might sink the ship.”

“Oh, don’t tease me, Wesley,” Lady Frederic said. “Mr. Oakhurst, when are we leaving, and how many days will we be at sea?”

“The concierge has confirmed your first class accommodations on the
SS City of New York
leaving this Saturday at one o’clock. I’d plan for a crossing of six days, milady.”

“As quick as that? When Frederic and I crossed over twenty years ago, the voyage took two weeks. The voyage was extremely unpleasant, rather dull, and it didn’t help that I was
enceinte
with Wesley.”

“Passenger liners have made great strides in improving crossing speeds,” Mr. Oakhurst replied. “And you’ll find the vessels themselves quite comfortable and luxurious.”

A very short while later, they arrived at their destination. The building that housed Arnold, Constable & Co. possessed a beautiful marble façade designed in a Second Empire style of architecture. Many expensive carriages were parked outside, hitched to glossy, well-tended horses. Uniformed drivers loitered in a group on the sidewalk, smoking and chatting while they awaited the return of their employers.

Belle decided Mr. Darling must have sent a message ahead, because almost as soon as they entered the department store, managers and salespeople were there to greet them. A team of well-dressed saleswomen whisked Lady Frederic and Belle off in one direction, while a set of salesmen escorted Mr. Oakhurst and Wesley to a broad staircase leading upward. Belle stole a glance at Wesley as he was led off; he had the same somewhat bewildered expression as he’d had in the hotel lobby. Again, she felt an inexplicable twinge of sympathy.
Papa was right to say I’ve been too hard on him. I likely wouldn’t know how to behave if I were thrown into his circumstances.

For the duration of the afternoon, Belle and Lady Frederic were pampered in a private fashion show. Pretty ladies modeled the finest clothes from Europe, including couture gowns from the house of Worth. Wide-eyed, Belle drank in all the sumptuous fabrics, elaborate trimmings, beautiful embroidery, beading, lace, and ribbons. Her head swam at the vast array of accessories, such as hats, day and evening gloves, parasols, muffs, shoes, hosiery, and all manner of nightgowns and undergarments. One particular pink chiffon parasol made Belle ache with longing.
Perhaps I can save my pocket money and buy something less expensive when I’m next in London. It would make a marvelous addition to my trousseau.

While Lady Frederic was fitted for her new wardrobe, the staff offered Belle refreshments. To her delight, she was catered to almost as much as Lady Frederic. Belle gaped at the growing rack of selections accruing nearby. Fortunately, Lady Frederic declined to view riding habits or sports costumes, which would have taken even longer.

“I must stop buying things, otherwise Wesley will never let me hear the end of it,” she confided to Belle. “But it’s been so long since I’ve had anything new to wear. I just can’t help myself.”

“You may need a few more trunks.”

“Oh, dear, you’re right.”

Lady Frederic donned one of her new, elegant walking dresses to wear back to the hotel.

“Do you suppose you could donate my old dress to charity for me?” she asked the head saleslady, Mrs. Moore.

“Absolutely,” the woman replied. “You’d be surprised at how many castoffs we get here, and they fill a need.”

“Good. My dear Miss Oakhurst, I’ve a gift for you, if I can find it.” Lady Frederic surveyed the purchases already packed for delivery. “Ah, here it is!” Out of a long, thin box she lifted a puffy chiffon parasol in a dainty shade of pink. “I saw how you’d admired it.”

Astounded by Lady Frederic’s generosity, Belle reached for the wooden handled parasol as if it would blow away at the slightest touch.

“Oh milady, it’s so beautiful! Thank you
ever
so much!”

“Your advice to me while I was shopping was invaluable, Miss Oakhurst. It’s my way of saying thank you.”

“I’ll treasure it.”

Mrs. Moore then ushered Belle and Lady Frederic to the luggage department. Lady Frederic chose an array of handsome tapestry bags, as well as imported Louis Vuitton leather cases and travel trunks for herself and Wesley.

Finally she gave Belle a tired smile. “Although I’ve had a marvelous day, I’ve done quite enough shopping.”

“I enjoyed myself too,” Belle said. “I’ve rarely seen such beautiful things before. You’ll truly light up any room, milady.”

“You’re a very sweet girl, Miss Oakhurst.”

Wesley and Mr. Oakhurst joined them just then. Like his mother, Wesley had discarded his old clothes in favor of a new three-piece suit that fit him beautifully. A floppy bow tie and a black bowler hat gave him a dapper look, and his feet were encased in a pair of shiny leather shoes. His slow smile caused Belle’s mouth to go dry.

“Hullo, Miss Oakhurst,” he said. “Hullo, Mother! If it weren’t for the fact you’re with Miss Oakhurst, I might not have recognized you. You look splendid.”

“As do you, Wesley,” Lady Frederic replied. “I approve of your suit.”

Wesley’s brown eyes focused once more on Belle. “I hope
you
approve, Miss Oakhurst?”

“Oh, um, yes. Of course.”

“The people here are quite helpful,” Wesley said. “They even tailored this suit while we waited. The rest of my things will be delivered to the hotel.”

“As will mine.” Lady Frederic sighed. “I must admit I’m fatigued.”

“The cab is waiting outside,” Mr. Oakhurst said.

“If no one objects, I’d like to walk back,” Wesley said. “Would you join me, Miss Oakhurst?”

So desperate was Belle for some exercise, she silenced the small voice inside her head telling her an unchaperoned walk with him was improper.

“What a wonderful suggestion! It’s only four blocks,” she said. “Do you mind, Papa?”

“All right, but don’t be overlong, or I’ll start to worry.”

Mr. Oakhurst escorted Lady Frederic to the cab, and Wesley and Belle left the department store together. Although there was a spring in her step as she strolled up Fifth Avenue, Belle felt a slight twinge of guilt.
I’ll most certainly
not
be including this excursion in my next letter to Errol!
She happily unfurled her new parasol as she and Wesley crossed 19th Street.

“This parasol was a gift from your mother,” she said. “She’s so kind.”

“I’ve not seen my mother this contented in a long while,” Wesley said. “I daresay she was glad to do it.”

Fashionable matrons and their gentleman escorts sauntered along the granite and bluestone sidewalk, pausing every so often to look at window displays or greet friends. Many of the women carried umbrellas or parasols to shield them from the sun’s rays, although nothing could block the August heat. Belle was pleased, nevertheless, that none of the women had a parasol as beautiful as hers.

“I’m so grateful for the chance to see the city up close,” Belle said. “Manhattan is so vibrant and new!”

“There are parts of the city that are neither.”

“It’s the same in London, of course. There’s tremendous poverty alongside fabulous wealth.”

“Are New York and London very similar then?”

“No, but they’re both very exciting cities. You own a townhouse in Belgravia, did my father tell you?”

“I do?” Wesley paused. “Is Belgravia in London?”

Belle laughed. “Indeed, it’s one of the more fashionable neighborhoods. I don’t think Septimus Parker used the townhouse very often because of his health, but I’m sure it’s grand.”

“Mother will be thrilled to hear it,” Wesley said. “I can’t get over how different she looks in her new clothes.”

“Oh, yes! Your mama has been quite transformed.” Belle gave Wesley a sidelong glance. “She’s not the only one who has been changed. As Shakespeare wrote, ‘the apparel oft proclaims the man.’”

“That’s from
Hamlet
, I believe.”

Belle’s pace slowed momentarily. “I’m impressed.”

“I
do
read, Miss Oakhurst. In fact, that’s partly why I fell out of favor with my former friends in Brooklyn. They mistook my interest in learning for snobbery.”

“Will you miss Brooklyn?”

“I’ll miss baseball. The Brooklyn Bridegrooms may win the World’s Championship Series this year, and I won’t be around to see it.”

“I really don’t know anything about baseball, but I’m willing to learn.”

“From what my father told me about rounders, baseball is like that.”

They walked together in companionable silence for a while.

“If it’s not too personal a question, may I inquire how your father died?” she asked finally.

“It’s a horrible story. My father had a job teaching literature at New York University, but he wasn’t satisfied with his wages. Over my mother’s objections, he began to work weekends down at the rail-marine terminal, Palmer’s Dock.” Wesley swallowed hard. “There was an accident.”

Belle felt the color drain from her face. “I’m so sorry, Wesley.”

Unexpectedly, he laughed. “You just used my Christian name. May I use yours?”

“It’s…it’s Annabelle.”

“You don’t look like an Annabelle to me.” Wesley frowned a moment in contemplation. “May I call you Belle?”

She gasped slightly. “That’s what my mother used to call me.”

“Then it’s settled. Belle is a very pretty name, and it suits you. It’s almost musical.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s my turn,” he said. “May I ask about your mother?”

“Her name was Lucinda Heathcliff Oakhurst, and she died about five years ago from a fever. It happened so quickly, I could scarcely believe it. Not a day goes by I don’t wish her back.”

Belle paused outside a bookstore, which was situated inside a converted row townhouse. “Do you mind awfully if we go inside? There will be a library on the steamship, of course, but I’d like to buy a book or two just the same. I’m fond of reading.”

“Let’s go in. I’d enjoy a look around myself. I’ve never been able to buy anything I wanted before. It’s an odd feeling, but very liberating.”

Wesley held the shop door open for Belle, waiting as she let down her parasol.

“So you do know some manners,” she said.

“More and more every day.”

After they went inside, Wesley and Belle parted company.

“I’ll be in the adventure section,” he said.