Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Whoever thinks they are something when they are not, deceive themselves.

— Galatians 6:3, ESV

June of 1901, Manhattan, New York

V eronica met her estranged paternal aunt at the train station. Aunt Mae peered at her through a pair of lorgnettes she held up to her eyes after lifting the veil draped over her black hat. Her aunt clasped a silver decorative handle to one side of the elegant lenses with her pleasantly plump gloved hands. With her pale but smooth complexion, she showed little signs of aging except for a full face, robust figure, and a widow's apparel.

"I hardly recognize you. Goodness, the last time I saw you, you were this high. Well, don't stand there in the road dawdling. Get inside the carriage so we can be on our way, Veronica."

"Yes, Aunt Mae. It was kind of you to meet me at the station." She'd expected her to send a servant. She waited for Edward while he finished securing her trunk with Aunt Mae's carriage driver. When He returned to her side, she introduced him. "I'd like you to meet Edward Beckett, my intended." She'd chosen to say intended after giving his introduction a great deal of thought. She refused to refer to him as her fiancé yet since he had not officially proposed, but they were obviously more than friends at this point.

Aunt Mae harrumphed, offering a curt nod and another toward Rupert and Mr. Beckett while they stood nearby, guarding their stack of trunks. "Yes, I know who he is, but it's nearly time for tea, and we must be on our way. The traffic will be horrendous otherwise."

Veronica overlooked her aunt's impolite greeting since perhaps she had good reason to fear the traffic. Assuming Edward would understand the ways of elderly folk, she tried not to take offense. It wouldn't do to start off on the wrong foot with her relation.

Turning to Edward, Veronica clasped his hand with her gloved one as she placed a booted Spencer heel onto the first step of the carriage. "I look forward to when you'll call upon me so we can discuss when I should meet your family."

"I'll call on you in a day or two when you're settled and rested from the journey." He smiled, firmly keeping hold of her hand until she settled inside the carriage after Frances scooted over to make room for her on the seat across from Aunt Mae. Mama had spared Frances to be Veronica's personal maid, chaperone, and companion on the trip.

Aunt Mae tapped her cane on the carriage floor three times, and the conveyance lurched forward. Veronica felt terrible about missing the opportunity for Aunt Mae to greet Mr. Beckett and Rupert, but she could only wave and hope they understood her aunt's desire to hurry home.

She only wanted to close her eyes and rest, but Aunt Mae chose the moment to lay ground rules instead of making small talk about their travels or inquiring about the health of her family back in Kentucky. "We'll be home in fifteen minutes if the traffic isn't too terrible. Your maid can unpack for you, and we'll have dinner at five o'clock sharp. Breakfast is served at seven o'clock every morning in the formal dining room. Church is every Sunday at ten-thirty, and lunch is always served at noon, except on Sunday afternoon, when it's served at twelve-thirty after we arrive home from church and change. I seldom receive any visitors on Sundays, but I suppose your Edward may call." Finally, the woman took a breath.

"Thank you, Aunt Mae. That's very kind of you. By the way, Mama sent some blackberry jam from Velvet Brooks."

"I'm glad to hear she remembered my favorite preserves. As I was saying, bed is at nine o'clock, unless you have a ball to attend, and then your curfew is midnight. Tea is served in the afternoons, usually around three. I expect you'll be bringing Frances along on your outings, unless you are accompanied by those insipid and foolish Beckett sisters."

As Frances stared at Aunt Mae with wide eyes, Veronica lifted a brow. Insipid and foolish? Might that explain her aunt's cool demeanor toward the Beckett men?

"I expect you'll avoid going out in public with only Edward until after you are married, and I expect you to adhere to always keeping a chaperone with you and maintaining a proper distance from your intended. Has he officially proposed yet?"

"Yes, ma'am—I mean, yes, I agree to follow all of the rules, and no, not exactly." Veronica sat up straighter. "We are on a sort of trial period, to see if I like his family and all New York has to offer. We haven't exactly worked out all of the details yet, but it is my hope we'll live most of the year at Velvet Brooks."

"Do you gamble, young lady?" Aunt Mae fussed with her veil again, returning the lorgnettes to her eyes as the carriage continued its journey toward a fashionable district in Manhattan, navigating behind a great many other carriages. She leveled her gaze in Veronica's direction.

"I assure you, Aunt Mae, I've never placed a bet in my life." Mama said true ladies could not do anything of the sort. Veronica knew ways around it, such as handing betting funds over to her father or any of the employees at Velvet Brooks who would place a bet on her behalf, but she had never done so, nor would she. She did try to behave as a lady should.

"Good. I cannot stand horseracing and gambling. These are useless and sinful frivolities for the idle and wealthy, and I frown upon the very mention of them. It's why I seldom visit Kentucky."

"Yes ma'am, Aunt Mae. Father said you did not care for such activities." Veronica bit her lip. Could she eventually win her aunt over with kindness?

"Did he, now?" She harrumphed again. "I do miss my brother. I'm very glad to hear you are in a sort of trial period with Edward. It is good to make a man show himself worthy of your hand. But I suppose I should congratulate you. Edward Beckett is a fine catch for a husband."

"Thank you." New York society belles considered Edward desirable? The thought made her smile.

"You'll be the envy of all of New York, but I'm not impressed with his mother or sisters. Don't ask me what I mean by that statement. You'll find out for yourself soon enough."

Veronica swallowed hard and her smile faded. What did her aunt know?

Her aunt tilted her head to one side. "I assume you know Edward is expected to inherit his father's stock brokerage company. You said it is your hope you will live at Velvet Brooks, but I would imagine you'll need to split your time between both states once you are wed. In any case, you should prepare yourself for that possibility."

"I suppose you are right, Aunt Mae. Edward and I are still sorting out those matters." Veronica bit her lower lip.

"Very good. A happy marriage requires sacrifice and compromise." The older woman had already turned her attention to Frances. "The staff gathers in the kitchen for meals and have most of the third floor to themselves."

Frances nodded and spoke up quickly in reply. "Yes, ma'am, thank you."

When they arrived at Aunt Mae's home, Frances unpacked Veronica's belongings and let her enjoy a cup of soothing tea followed by a long hot soak in Aunt Mae's modern bathing tub. Then she rested and did her best to assimilate to her aunt's routine. With so many rules to follow, waiting to see Edward again, and her nerves kicking in about meeting his family, she experienced an odd mixture of worry and excitement.

She also quickly missed her morning horseback rides and the countryside. Adapting to life in a busy city made her feel much like Edward must have felt at Velvet Brooks. Carriages drove by at all hours of the night, the hustle and bustle never ended, and where on earth did folks gather to go horseback riding? Why were the horses so slow and large? And the enormously tall buildings blocked out the sunshine.

Had she made a mistake in coming to New York?

A few days later, Edward invited Aunt Mae to join him and Veronica for her first evening out on the town. He escorted them to a steak dinner at Delmonico's, a popular restaurant her aunt approved of. Afterwards, they took in a performance from the Becketts' private box at one of the many Manhattan theaters. The next day, he charmed them with a visit to a tea shop and bookstore. Though the outings seemed to soften Aunt Mae toward Edward, Veronica couldn't help but be disappointed that his family hadn't joined them, and equally disappointed they hadn't yet invited her to dine with them. Was the snub deliberate? How could it not be?

A couple of days later, an invitation to tea arrived, and the day after that, she and her aunt sat with Edward's mother and sisters in the drawing room of the Beckett family brownstone near the corner of Lafayette Street and Fifth Avenue. Aunt Mae lived around the corner on Grosvenor, close enough for walking, but better accessed by a short buggy ride.

Edward, however, had yet to make his promised appearance. Perhaps he found himself delayed by the considerable amount of city traffic her aunt always moaned about.

"How are you enjoying Manhattan now that you've had a chance to settle in with your Aunt Fay?" Gloria Beckett, Edward's mother, peered at Veronica from the elegant parlor settee in the drawing room. Veronica barely remembered Mrs. Beckett and her daughters from their first meeting during her teenage years, but Mrs. Beckett had excellent taste in her furnishings. The settee and chairs featured pinstriped satin cushions which contrasted nicely with velvet drapes.

"My Aunt Mae." Veronica glanced nervously at her aunt, seated in the chair beside her. "Mae Wilson. She was a Lyndon before her marriage to my Uncle George, God rest his soul."

"Aunt Mae . How lovely you and your niece were able to join us for tea today, Mrs. Wilson." Edward's mother sipped her tea and surveyed Veronica's aunt before turning her attention back to Veronica. "And now that you've had a nice visit with her, I assume you can't wait to return to the countryside."

She had only just arrived and yet Edward's mother mentioned she could hardly wait to return to the countryside in such a snide tone? Was she trying to get rid of her? Dismiss her from Edward's life? Doubtful that the remark had been made in an effort to be polite, judging by the sour look on the woman's face. And had she forgotten her aunt's name on purpose?

Veronica immediately felt sorry for Edward having a mother who seemed icy cold and indifferent to his future bride—if she ultimately agreed to marry him—not for her own sake, but for his. Now she could understand why Mrs. Beckett and Edward's sisters hadn't accompanied Mr. Beckett and his sons on their visit to Kentucky.

"I do admit a certain fondness and preference for Velvet Brooks, my family home, and the countryside." Veronica focused on maintaining her composure despite the distinct chill in the ornate drawing room.

Surely, at any moment, Edward would arrive and rescue her. At least she had Aunt Mae, but Veronica struggled with what to say and remaining alert. The perpetual racket below her second-floor bedroom window as carriages, vendor carts, modern automobiles, and pedestrians passed Aunt Mae's residence disrupted her sleep at night and her thoughts during the day.

In truth, she could not agree more with Gloria Beckett's statement. She did long to return to Kentucky after she'd had her fill of adventure in Manhattan—only, she and Edward hadn't discussed where they would live if they married or where a wedding would take place. He had also mentioned joining his family for a visit at their South Carolina estate. At some point—if she agreed to marry him—she hoped to convince Edward a Kentucky wedding would be best, but she didn't want to put the cart before the horse. He hadn't officially proposed yet, nor had she accepted him.

Edward had said that after gently breaking the news about the match, his father had told his mother they could soon expect news of an official engagement. Perhaps what Edward had really meant by informing her of this was that he would soon propose. And she'd decided on the train that if things went well, she could say yes. But the Beckett women looked as if they might devour her with their stares alone. None of them smiled at her, and so far, the visit had only made her apprehensive.

Henrietta, Edward's twenty-four-year-old sister, the second-born daughter of the Beckett family, gave her mother a sideways glance and cleared her throat. "I think Mother meant to ask if you've enjoyed seeing any of Manhattan since your arrival."

"Yes, thank you, I have. Edward took my aunt and me to dine at Delmonico's one evening. We saw a play at the new Theatre Republic." Veronica had enjoyed the stunning interior featuring marble staircases, carved balustrades, and a gilded dome rimmed by lyre-playing cherubs. And how nice it had been to have Edward rest his hand comfortingly on hers during one of the acts when the lights were low.

Sophie, the next daughter in the Beckett family and only a year older than Rupert at twenty-two, brightened. Funny, but except for their blue eyes, Edward's sisters didn't look anything like him with their blond hair and thin, aristocratic noses. "Oh, yes. We have a box at the Theatre Republic. What play did you see?"

"Shakespeare's comedy, ‘Much Ado About Nothing.'" Veronica offered her most winning smile. At twenty-three, she fit right between the sisters in age. She could surely find some common ground with them.

"An excellent play, I'm told. Leviticus and I plan to see it soon." Mrs. Beckett glanced at the timepiece pinned to her pigeon-front blouse. "Dear me, I wonder what is keeping our boys."

Aunt Mae lifted a shoulder. "The traffic must be horrendous today, or perhaps something at the office has delayed them. As for the play, it was one of the most exciting things we've done since my niece arrived. And we look forward to more excitement with Edward as a most attentive escort, ensuring Veronica has a splendid visit. I can't have my niece visit Manhattan and sit at home when there's so much to do and see here. In fact, our social calendar is filling up quite nicely. I'm starting to worry we won't have enough time to shop for her wedding dress before she returns to Kentucky to finalize the details." She turned to Veronica. "I do think a wedding in the white chapel in Lexington where your maternal grandfather was the preacher for so many years would be lovely. The event of the year."

"The more I think about it, the more I believe you are right, Aunt Mae. A small wedding at my home church sounds divine, but Edward and I haven't had this conversation yet." Veronica tried to hide her smile behind the teacup she held to her lips. How clever of Aunt Mae to mention a Kentucky wedding since Edward's mother wanted to dismiss her so soon and see her return to Velvet Brooks.

Everything seemed to be falling in place, and now Aunt Mae surprised her by rallying to her side—the very last thing Veronica had expected, given her rather tart first words to Veronica on the subject.

"A Kentucky wedding?" Mrs. Beckett's mouth dropped open. "That simply won't do."

Edward chose that moment to appear with his father and Rupert, and Veronica couldn't help but release a thankful sigh. Had he heard his mother's comment? Perhaps he would respond and then she would finally know what he had in mind about where they should marry. It had seemed improper to raise the matter until he gave her a ring.

Aunt Mae raised her chin, ignoring the arrival of the Beckett men. "Why not a Kentucky wedding? At twenty-eight and twenty-three, they are more than old enough to decide where they'd like their wedding, and I'm sure the bride's mother will have something to say about it as well. Veronica is the eldest daughter and the most popular belle of Lexington society. I know this for a fact since her Lyndon grandmother, my mother, who lives in Lexington, sends me letters on a regular basis about everything going on."

Mr. Beckett gave his wife a kiss on the cheek before accepting his tea, but she barely glanced at her husband. He settled onto the settee beside Mrs. Beckett. "Tell me when and where to show up, and I'll be there."

"Of course, you'd say such a ridiculous thing, Levi." Mrs. Beckett set his input aside with a wave of her hand. "But Edward is considered one of the most eligible bachelors in New York. He can't just get married anywhere. His place is here."

With little more than a raised brow, Edward pulled a chair up beside Veronica and seated himself, covering her hand with his. "I'm sorry we're late, darling." He'd taken to calling her sweet names. As long as he didn't refer to her as adorable , she enjoyed his indulgent nature.

"I'm sure they'll figure it out, Gloria," Mr. Beckett said.

Mrs. Beckett's brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin, firm line between sips of tea.

Sadly, Veronica was not off to a great start with her future mother-in-law. She would need to write to her mother at once. She still had yet to meet Edward's Aunt Lavinia at Chesapeake Manor. Hopefully, that would go better.

"Hello, Veronica, Mrs. Wilson." Rupert nodded toward them as his sisters scooted over on the sofa to make room for him. He sat down, smiling warmly at Veronica while balancing a cup of tea with some degree of caution.

"Hello, Rupert." Veronica returned his smile. "Good to see you again."

How nice it was to see a familiar face, someone who could always be counted upon to cheer everyone up. How on earth he'd convinced Leviticus Beckett to permit him to get his degree in veterinarian medical studies and Edward in fine arts remained a mystery, as Mr. Beckett wanted his sons to eventually take over at Beckett, Reed & Johnston. Such a shame that the man allowed his sons to pursue their interests in their studies, but not in their careers. He tantalized them with what they loved but refused to give them the freedom to live their dreams.

"You as well. Are you enjoying Manhattan?" Rupert asked.

As much as she wanted to know Edward's thoughts on where the wedding would take place, it was just as well that the topic had been diverted for now. Should it come up again, she would refuse to comment until she had more time to consider the matter. She had never imagined a New York wedding, not in her wildest dreams—though no doubt, it meant a great deal to Edward's family. What would her mother say?

"Yes, thank you for asking. I haven't seen much of it yet, but we have tea with a Mrs. Cleave tomorrow, and I've accepted invitations to two balls since Edward told me one is a debutante ball. The other is for a ball hosted by Mrs. Cleave. Did I get that right?" When Veronica glanced at her, Aunt Mae nodded. "Oh, and we plan to order my trousseau and wedding gown while I'm here, so a great deal of shopping is ahead of us." Perhaps she shouldn't speak of ordering a wedding gown yet, but she and Edward had been discussing marriage for several weeks now. "With church every Sunday and outings with Edward, I'm sure to see everything important and to stay quite busy."

"Tea with Mrs. Cleave?" Henrietta repeated, her small mouth remaining open in surprise.

"You did say, ‘Mrs. Cleave,' as in the Mrs. Cleave on Fifth Avenue?" Sophie echoed her sister's question.

Veronica looked to her aunt for help. Why did they seem so interested in Mrs. Cleave?

"Yes, she is referring to my good friend Evangeline Cleave," Aunt Mae clarified as she returned her teacup to its saucer.

"H-how very nice," Mrs. Beckett muttered under her breath before heaving a heavy sigh and taking another sip of tea. She did not seem happy to hear this news.

"Yes, well, for some odd reason, we can't seem to secure an invitation from her despite numerous attempts," Sophia began, but when Henrietta elbowed her, she clamped her mouth shut.

"We are looking forward to the debutante ball, although Sophie and I have each had our coming out balls a few years ago. Have you had your coming out?" Henrietta asked.

Veronica dipped her chin. "Yes, I had my coming out ball as a debutante after graduating from the Lexington Finishing School for Young Ladies."

Clearly, Henrietta asked the question partly to avoid the matter Sophie had brought up, but what reason might Mrs. Cleave have for not inviting the Beckett ladies to tea or the ball? Hadn't Edward said he would attend the Cleave ball? Apparently, his invitation did not include his sisters or parents. She could only surmise it had something to do with the fact that Mrs. Beckett appeared quite sour and her daughters somewhat dimwitted and frivolous, judging by the number of frills on their frocks.

"Have you had a chance to see Central Park yet?" Rupert asked Veronica.

"Central Park? Not yet, but I'm eager to see it. Aunt Mae has told me all about it."

Henrietta piped up with unexpected enthusiasm. "Perhaps you'd like to join us for a carriage ride to visit Central Park tomorrow, then, after your tea. We can pick you up in front of Mrs. Cleave's mansion at four o'clock in time for the procession."

Veronica looked at her aunt for approval.

Aunt Mae shrugged and nodded, a reluctant gleam in her eye as she sipped her tea and stared at the Beckett sisters from over the brim of the teacup with some degree of skepticism. Veronica half expected her aunt to produce her lorgnettes and peer through the fashionable lenses at Henrietta with one of her piercing stares.

She could hardly wait to thank Aunt Mae for her support today, but perhaps she shouldn't say anything at all lest her aunt revoke such excellent behavior. Her paternal relation didn't strike her as the type who would value a compliment until she had truly earned it.

"Tomorrow at four o'clock. I'll be ready and waiting." Veronica welcomed the opportunity to become better acquainted with Edward's sisters—though she dreaded it a bit too. "It's a shame Edward has to work tomorrow, but we'll go again together on another day." Veronica looked over into Edward's blue eyes and smiled as he nodded. She had almost begun to think of him as her fiancé, but she still had to become accustomed to the idea after spending so much time fighting it. As things stood now, she could use his help handling his mother.

Edward set his teacup aside and took her cup from her hands. Then he took her by the hand and surprised her again, pulling her to her feet. "Everyone, you must forgive us for excusing ourselves for a moment. I promised to show Veronica my art studio and some of my artwork."

She smiled as he led her away, a great flood of relief washing over her. She could hardly wait. Could Aunt Mae fend for herself for a few minutes? Then she smothered a laugh at the idea of her aunt having any trouble with the Beckett ladies. She had a feeling her aunt could wrangle a tiger with her bare hands.