Scary
Fall turned into winter. Cora, Mother and Harold celebrated Christmas while Poppa celebrated Hanukkah. Mother then hosted another New Year's party, and most of the guests appeared to focus on other things than Cora's former fiancé, especially as Mother loved to talk about their upcoming trip to Europe.
Cora tried to be friendly at the party, but watching other couples dance stung a bit, when she remembered Samson's warm hands around her as they glided across the floor last year. Just when she believed her heart had finally recovered from heartbreak, a fresh memory like this would slap her in the face.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
A few months later, Cora knew her heartbreak was over as she and Mother sat in their state room on a ship bound for England. "I hope you remember all your lessons from Miss Maple," Mother said, her blue eyes staring hard as their new maid fixed her hair. "These British aristocrats were born knowing etiquette."
Cora thought back to last year, trying to catalogue everything she'd learned. Tea service, dance steps, and the transatlantic accent. This whole experience was a bit scary. Could she truly catch a British lord for a husband? She fidgeted with her long brown hair for something to do. "At least I remember the art lessons well."
"And I see you're still speaking with that accent," Mother said proudly. "But leave your hair alone, Cora. Nancy shouldn't have to do more work with it than necessary. And Nancy, you must twist the hair straight, not at an angle."
"Yes, ma'am," said the new maid they'd brought with them specifically for this trip, as Poppa and Harold had Jenny at home. She was a couple of years older than Cora, with bright red hair, with more of an orange tint than Mother's. Mother appeared to bark at her even more than Cora.
"And we've been through this before but choose your match carefully," she said, returning her attention to her daughter. "All of these men will be interested in your dowery, even though they don't say it, and there is nothing wrong with playing up to that attention. But don't let your feelings run away with you just because of another handsome smile."
Cora made a face, remembering how she'd reacted to Frank Samson's smile. "Don't worry Mother, I've moved beyond that."
"Have you? Have you really?" Mother said sharply. "I know you've learned some hard lessons from Frank Samson, but you're still far too naïve, Cora. Romantic love never lasts, even when the man isn't as cunning as Samson was. Choose a man that will treat you well but will also give us the best connections….No, Nancy," Mother said as she saw hair in the mirror. "The twist still needs to be a little more to the left."
Staying silent, Cora resisted the urge to fiddle with her hair so not to be lectured again. This wasn't the first time Mother had explained this to her, and once again, she wondered if Mother was correct. Between her horrible experience with Frank and Mother's 'dried-up' marriage with Poppa, evidence pointed in that direction.
Romantic love didn't exist. Even when you found it, it didn't last, so why should anyone look for it? It wasn't worth the heartbreak.
But Cora couldn't ignore Emma's advice last fall, either. "Love is what makes life worthwhile," she'd said, somehow sounding wiser than Mother, and speaking of her own parents' relationship. And how could Cora forget Grandmother MacKenzie, who spoke of affection and love in her eyes about Grandfather, long after he was dead?
So lost in her worries and daydreams, she didn't even notice Nancy had finally finished Mother's hair for the day, until the maid began brushing and pulling at Cora's. "I expect you'll do a better job with my daughter's hair," Mother said, shaking her head as Nancy brushed another snarl.
"Yes, ma'am," the maid said. Another tug.
"I cannot wait to get to the dress shops in London," Mother said, her sharp voice disappearing. "I bet they have even better fabrics than we do in New York. Satin would be nice for your presentation gown Cora, especially if we add lots of lace."
"Yes, Mother," she said, not daring to move her head with Nancy pulling at her hair.
"And red silk would be perfect for your ball gown; it certainly was a becoming color on you last spring," Mother said, dropping the words like a weapon she didn't notice was loaded.
Cora whipped her head around, not caring how that would impact Nancy's job. "No, Mother, I will never wear red dresses or gowns again. They remind me of Frank, with the way he insisted I wear only red if he and I were to see each other."
Mother paused, surprised. "Of course, you wouldn't," she said, sounding prouder than she'd ever had before. Cora smiled, full of esteem and relief. "A deep blue gown would do just as nicely as it would bring out your eyes. And it would go wonderfully with the jewelry your Poppa bought you….Nancy, I expect you to finish my daughter's hair. I was hoping the two of us could stroll around the deck today."
"Yes, ma'am," the maid said, and began pulling at Cora's hair to meet Mother's idea of perfection again.
OOOOOOOOOOO
A little over a month later, Cora and Mother's hair had been fixed to perfection, and they stood inside the magnificence of Buckingham Palace. Cora wore a white satin bow in her hair, and a gown of the same material and color. Lace trim covered her dress and bow, making her appear even fancier, and one of her favorite necklaces, a silver chain with a sapphire pendant.
Old and young lords and ladies lined up inside the palace along with them as far as Cora's eyes could see. All the men wore a formal uniform that made it clear why the British were once called "redcoats" by Americans. Young ladies all wore white gowns like Cora's, but some how they seemed to know exactly how to stand, walk and hold their heads to appear like they spent every day at Buckingham Palace.
Cora tried to imitate the others, but she knew she looked unusual. All the other girls' gowns had wide hoop skirts, while hers had a narrow waist. She may as well have branded the word "American" across her forehead. Her heart pounded faster and faster as she attempted to do everything she was supposed to do. How did Miss Maple say to walk? Slowly but purposely, right? With her head up high, like she was confident.
If only she were that confident. Cora had been scared ever since she and Mother had entered London, but none more than today, at Buckingham Palace.
And Mother didn't help, as her gown was even more unusual. Bright orange and covered with a red flower print, in addition to an orange feather in her hair. She claimed it complimented her hair, and Cora supposed that was true, but didn't Mother understand that the other ladies' presenters dressed more simply than that? She'd seen women dressed in silver, ice blue, violet, and even olive green, but no other women wore bright orange.
But despite how important it was for Cora to learn etiquette, as Mother constantly reminded her of Miss Maple's lessons, Mother had never cared to follow such rules herself. Had she thought that her behavior might affect Cora's chances at a match? She'd already seen more than one-person eyeing Cora and Mother disapprovingly.
Was that another judgmental eye, she thought, just as they climbed the grand staircase? Cora forced herself to keep her head high, although her heart still moved as if she'd been in a horse race.
OOOOOOOOOO
Other girls whispered softly as Cora's heart continued to race and the line crept closer to Queen Victoria. Although she was normally very friendly, Cora didn't join in the whispering about dresses, balls, and prospects. She couldn't when Mother was standing next to her in that bright orange dress and feathers.
"Do you remember how to curtsey?" Mother said at one point. Cora's mind flashed back to Miss Maple's lessons.
"Take a piece of your dress with the tips of your fingers like so," Miss Maple said, demonstrating. "Then put your left leg behind your right leg and bend like this. Now you try."
All four girls tried. Caroline did it primly, as if she expected to meet the queen any day. Emma fell over the first couple of times, and Miss Maple instructed her to practice it until it was perfect. Georgia performed hers surprisingly gracefully, for someone who could still not balance her books on her head. Jane rolled her eyes, complaining she would never meet royalty, so learning to curtsey was completely unnecessary.
Cora performed her curtsey, although privately she agreed with Jane. She'd never meet royalty, so this lesson was pointless.
"Yes, Mother," Cora said with a nod, beyond grateful for Miss Maple's lessons, considering she would now need them more than she'd ever thought possible.
OOOOOOOOOO
"Martha Levinson," Mother said in her New York accent as they approached the throne. "Presenting Miss Cora Levinson."
Queen Victoria sat primly; she was older than Mother, with her hair completely grey and what might be wrinkles on her face. Yet, that didn't stop the queen from appearing more regal than anyone Cora had ever seen, those she'd seen in paintings. The queen stared at Mother and Cora with cool indifference, somehow adding to her royal air.
Cora's heartbeat was so hard she thought it might pop out of her chest. Instead, she took her gown between her fingers and placed her left leg behind her right while bending over just a bit. All the while she had to keep her head from staring at the ground. "Your majesty."
She'd been presented.
OOOOOOOOO
A week after her presentation, Cora and Mother stood in the ballroom of the Ritz for her coming-out.
Mother lectured the musicians, while Cora played with the silk of her new dark blue gown. It was a lovely dress, complete with a hoop skirt, just as all the young ladies had worn at the presentation, with off the shoulder sleeves, so to display her beautiful new diamond necklace.
It caused Cora to feel stronger than she was, and that was important as most of the guests still stared at her with a wary expression. Mother's dress still didn't help. Although dark colors were apparently preferred today, most women didn't wear the bold prints that Mother preferred. Tonight, her dress was a deep green, but covered in gold swirls.
To make matters even more uncomfortable, Cora understood a young lady should save the first dance at her coming-out for her father. But Poppa hadn't accompanied them to London, citing important business interests that needed his attention. Once again, Cora longed for the Poppa she used to know back in Cincinnati. Although he'd been busy with his dry goods there, he came home for dinner regularly, and would go on vacations with his family.
Reminding herself of both his reaction to Frank Samson's proposal and even better, his reaction to her heartbreak, Cora realized Poppa still loved her. And he'd given her this brand-new diamond necklace before she'd left for London as a token of his affection, too.
Besides, there were a few gentlemen who'd already asked to share the first dance with Cora when they'd realized she had no father or older brother to open her ball. A Mr. John Foyle, who was tall, much to her delight. His father also had some sort of title, which no doubt pleased Mother. Mr. George Howard wasn't quite as tall as Mr. Foyle but seemed sweet enough.
But Mother had chosen Lord Middleton, a man about the age of Poppa to dance with Cora first.
The music finally began, a lively march-themed tune, and Cora accepted Lord Middleton's hand, as she searched her memory for how to dance a march. But the man she was partnered with was kind enough to lead her through the motions without lecturing her when she mis-stepped, and she smiled when they finished. It was almost as nice as dancing with her Poppa.
"It was a pleasure, sir," Cora said with a smile when they finished.
"It was a pleasure for me as well, Miss Levinson," Lord Middleton said with his own smile, although looked almost like he was eyeing her diamond necklace. But certainly, that was Cora's imagination. She loved the sound of his voice.
According to her dance card, Cora was to dance the first quadrille with Mr. Foyle. She took as moment to appreciate a man tall enough to glance up at, even in her heeled shoes, and accepted his hand. They joined another couple to form a square. She performed the steps as best she could, but Mr. Foyle and the other couple gave her odd looks. He even appeared grateful when it was the other couple's turn to dance.
Cora yearned for the safety of Lord Middleton, but when the quadrille was finished, she still smiled and said, "it was a pleasure," to Mr. Foyle.
Mr. Foyle nodded. "It was a pleasure, Miss Levinson." His accent was pleasing, as was his height, but Cora wasn't certain about the rest of him.
Could she truly choose a husband from these men?
Stepping from the dance floor, she made her way to the drink counter. "… cannot believe she thinks it's acceptable to have a coming out ball at the Ritz Hotel," said someone from a distance.
"She's another one of those Americans," said another voice, whom Cora could detect as female, although she wasn't sure which one spoke. "Her family doesn't even have a London townhouse."
Cora felt her cheeks redden. Mother had given her the impression she'd studied everything they needed to know for Cora to have a successful London coming out, but apparently, she'd been wrong. The sea of strangers seemed to increase suddenly, making the room appear even scarier.
Then she held her head high asked for a champagne. She couldn't let these fears control her.
"You look familiar," Cora said coming up to a young lady with bright blonde hair that was styled in soft curls and a ponytail. The gown she wore tonight, a cross between red and pink, complimented her hair well. "I think you were presented shortly before me. I'm Cora Levinson."
The young woman didn't say anything for a moment, but then, "Yes, of course. I'm Elizabeth Hudson." She sipped her champagne.
Cora smiled and sipped her own drink. "Well, Elizabeth, I thank you for attending my ball and, I believe your gown is very pretty on you." She glanced at the young woman's dress again, admiring it. Socializing wasn't that much different here than in New York, after all.
Elizabeth paused, as if not understanding what to do with Cora's compliment. "Thank you. I suppose I appreciate your words." They continued drinking and talking for several more moments until the music began again. "Oh," Elizabeth said, putting what was left of her drink aside. "The first waltz has started."
Swallowing another sip of champagne, the drink tickling her nose, Cora nodded. "According to my dance card, I'm supposed to twirl around with a George…Howard."
Elizabeth's blue eyes widened for a moment. "Howard? Well, there's a good family connection."
Cora nodded, as if she knew exactly what the other woman was speaking, but it was another thing beyond her. Still, soon enough Mr. Howard took her hand and led her to the dance floor. Waltzing was much easier than the other dances, although Cora tried not to think that was because she'd waltzed several times with Frank Samson.
"You dance the waltz well, Miss Levinson," said Mr. Howard with a nod. Apparently, he'd noticed how much she'd practiced this dance.
"Thank you, sir," Cora said with a smile. He truly was just as sweet as she'd thought he was. She just wished she didn't have to look down on speaking to him. And what was this family connection that Howard represented? Mother would wish to know.
