Envy - Anna Godbersen

“Oh!” Penelope cried, snapping her fingers at servants.

“I am so sorry,” Leland gasped, horrified with himself, as he began to blot Lina’s skirt.

“I’ll have some more juice,” Henry said to no one in particular.

“Oh…it’s all right.” Lina was blushing from all the attention and seemed to have already gotten over any potential devastation about her dress. She was staring at Leland as he furiously tried to soak up the water from her lap. Black and white — uniformed servants descended on them with fresh napkins and a new carafe. Henry received a glass full of juice. Down on the other end of the table, Diana leaned forward and plucked a croissant from a silver tray, several shiny dark curls spilling forward across her chin as she did, then sat back into her chair.

“Miss Diana,” Grayson, Penelope’s older brother, said. “Can I pass you the butter?”

“No, thank you, this is quite deliciously buttery enough,” Diana replied tartly. She was full of some strange energy that morning. Her every movement had purpose and life, and she seemed to find satisfaction in every little thing.

“There’s quite a lot of deliciousness here, I must say….”

Penelope’s brother was positioned at the far end of the table, and though Elizabeth wanted to look at him to make sure he wasn’t flirting with her younger sister, a sense of propriety kept her from turning. She disliked his lascivious pronunciation, and it did sound like flirting, though perhaps it was just a casual comment, she told herself as she glanced at Henry. But when she glanced over, Henry simply stared into his juice glass. Everyone was acting so…strange.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Teddy said. His voice was gentle, even as everyone else began to babble. He reached forward and placed his fingers lightly on her wrist. “Are you all right? You don’t look well. It was a sharp bend, and I suppose there may be more….”

Teddy’s fingertips, resting on her pale skin, communicated such exquisite kindness that for a moment she felt a variety of glowing happiness that she had not experienced in a long time. It lasted only a second and then it was overwhelmed by a terrible turn in her stomach. She realized with dread and self-disgust that she had allowed herself a pleasant sensation — something she surely could never deserve again — and that it had been inspired by another man, a man who had been born lucky and safe and who most certainly was not Will. In an instant she knew that she was going to be sick.

Her head was very cold and her body was very hot. Everyone at the table was caught up in their own loud voices and pressing thoughts. She let her eyelids droop for a moment and prayed that she would make it to the washroom; then she pushed back her chair and rushed from the private dining car.

Sixteen

We have it on good authority that society’s latest point of interest, Miss Carolina Broad, is accompanying the Schoonmaker party to Florida, which no doubt impresses all of her new friends. She is reportedly traveling with only a maid and without her usual chaperone, Mr. Carey Lewis Longhorn, which may make some of those new friends chary, although it will certainly make none of us lose interest.

— FROM CITÉ CHATTER, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1900

“MISS BROAD, I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THIS morning. I will make it up to you by taking you for a drive in my motorcar when we arrive in Florida. Would you like that? Have you ever been in a motorcar? I assure you, my clumsiness only reveals itself in drawing rooms and at fancily laid dining tables. You can trust me to be your driver. In a motorcar…”

Carolina beamed and nodded enthusiastically. It was difficult to catch everything Leland said, because he spoke so fast, and she also sometimes lost track of whether she was supposed to be nodding or shaking her head, since he asked so many questions in passing and she wanted to answer them all in a way that would ensure her spending more time in his company. She felt so giddy and delicate with him and not even very much like herself. She had changed out of the water-soaked dress after breakfast, into a smart suit of navy silk with complicated darts and white ribbon detail, and ever since then he had been showing her around the train. There were little explosions of lace at her wrists and around her throat, and she made demure flourishes with her hands whenever she got a chance to say something because she liked to see how they looked in flight. Leland had already taken her to visit with the train’s engineer and hear the brakeman’s assessment of the state of the train. (The brakeman was certain they would all reach Palm Beach in one piece.) Now he led Carolina from the observation car onto its deck, which looked back along the tracks that trailed behind them, curving so that they disappeared amongst the bare trees.

The day was cool and crisp, and the afternoon landscape lazily unpopulated under the blue sky. Carolina’s dress rippled in the wind as she stepped out behind Leland and felt the air — it was warmer than in New York, but still a little bracing. Like the parlor car behind them, which was outfitted with stuffed sofas and huge maps and velvet drapes, the observation deck was grandly constructed, with a domed and tasseled roof held aloft by gold-plated pillars over a half-circle platform. The railing was made of finely whittled wood with a high shine.

“I love the way the land just falls behind you when you travel on a train. Can you imagine what it must have been like for our great-grandfathers, who hardly knew what a train was and never would have experienced travel with such ease and comfort? What a privilege it is to live now, at just this moment, and to be able to go anywhere….”

Suddenly he paused and looked out at the trees. It was almost a shock to see Leland standing still, and Carolina’s breathing became irregular as she gazed at him and saw how truly, unbelievably, preternaturally handsome he was. There was still the rocking of the train, however — he reached out and put a hand on the gold pillar. She blinked, but could not help but continue looking at him. He was so big-boned, and yet so slender, his torso tapering away from his broad shoulders. It made her feel petite to be next to someone of such considerable physical presence. His hair was a little overgrown, and it flapped over his ears. When he turned back she realized she’d been staring again and felt a stab of shame.

“We should be in Florida by tomorrow afternoon,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft and measured.

Carolina, whose gaze had wandered bashfully to her shoes, now gave herself a little speech. Surely he would not have spent so many hours with her if he did not already find her pretty, she rationalized, and if he had not yet said anything sweet to her, perhaps it was because he didn’t want to take advantage, or because he himself was shy in that department, or for a dozen other reasons. For a moment the inevitability of her own seat and the specter of returning to it without sharing a single romantic moment with Leland rose, horribly, in her thoughts. She looked at his wide-set blue eyes and decided it was up to her to show him how she felt.

She passed her parasol into her right hand and took a step toward Leland. She knew that she should be smiling, but the nervousness had already spread through her and she had forgotten how to make even the most basic gestures. All she could think to do at the moment was complete the series of steps that she had imagined for herself: toward Leland, then a little twirl, so that she would land between him and the railing and very close indeed. Then maybe she would remember how to smile. He was watching her intently now, and she moved backward coquettishly, leaning against the rail. She never got to smile, however, because at just that moment the car hit a bump and she lost her footing and her whole weight fell against the wooden bars behind her.

There was a terrible snapping sound. The wind came rushing past her ears, and in an instant she knew she was going to die. The wheels were shrieking on their tracks and the headlines were already reverberating in her mind. SOCIETY NEWCOMER’S GRISLY END SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF MASON-DIXON, they would read, or UNGRATEFUL PARVENU ABANDONS MEAL TICKET, MEETS MAKER ONE DAY LATER. She knew that her body, which had experienced so little in its seventeen years, was going to be crushed and left behind by all the more graceful and lucky people still safely on the train.

Then she opened her eyes and realized her life wasn’t over, after all.

Leland had her by one arm, and was holding on to the gold-plated pole by the other. There was a serious steadiness about the way he was looking at her, even though the sky above and land below were falling behind them so frightfully quickly. Her heart beat with such rapidity that she wondered if the thing wasn’t going to jump out of her throat, but there was also an eerie calm settling inside her. Leland’s face was red from all the blood that had rushed there — she could tell he was engaged in a tremendous effort. Beyond him, the clouds were shot through with gold from the sun. He pulled with all his strength, and then Carolina was righted again. She glanced at the broken rail and had to close her eyes as the full realization of how close she’d been to being torn limb from limb dawned in her consciousness.

“Oh, thank you,” she whispered.

“Are you all right?”

She looked at Leland, and saw that he was just as shaken as she was.

“Yes,” she said. “Or I will be in a minute or two.”

Her fright at what might have been had not yet subsided when she began to see all the bright, shining possibilities of the moment. She was not a deft manipulator of social situations — not yet, anyway — but she knew an opportunity when she saw one. She let her lids flutter shut, let her lips part weakly, and then threw herself forward into his arms.

“Oh, Leland, if you hadn’t been here…” she went on. But she didn’t have to say anything more, for already his arms had folded around her, and the full spread of his palms was pressing against her silk-covered back.

Seventeen

The Schoonmaker party is said to arrive at the Royal Poinciana, Palm Beach, Florida, this evening, barring any travel complications. I can assure the most exclusive details of their southern getaway. Many notable people have been wintering at the hotel, including the Frederick Whitneys, the family of Lord Dagmall-Lister, the British ambassador, and the Prince of Bavaria and his retinue….

— FROM THE “GAMESOME GALLANT” COLUMN IN THE NEW YORK IMPERIAL, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1900

HENRY LOVED A GOOD HOTEL, AND WAS KNOWN TO take rooms either for a party or for a few days rest in several of the New York establishments, even when one of the clubs he and his father belonged to would have done just as well. He found very little pleasure, however, in the Royal Poinciana, a great lemon yellow wood structure with white trimming sitting between Lake Worth and the sea, on the evening of his party’s arrival there. He was by then wretchedly sober, and he had been watching the ruthlessness with which Penelope attended to their guests. It was as though she wanted them in a state of controlled awe at all times. Now that he was more clear-eyed, he wondered if there were any limits to her behavior when something she felt was hers was on the line.