be.”
“Cripes!” Quintus looked horrified as he joined the table, his plate piled high with eggs, toast and sausages. “I take it back.”
“We’ll be back at Groton soon enough,” Lulu said gloomily, sitting beside their mother.
“Now, my love,” Her father sat opposite her mother and began eating. “Go on.”
“The duke, Amanda’s duke, has…” Her mother paused to open the envelope and extract the letter. “He—or rather the Duchess of Malvern—has invited us for a garden party this Wednesday. Listen—‘The Duchess of Malvern requests the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Vandewater’s company at a garden party on Wednesday, September 17th, 1902’.”
“He isn’t my duke, Mother,” Amanda said repressively. “And that is such short notice.”
“It’s only Monday, Amanda. Plenty of time to choose what to wear to show you off and to make the best effect.”
“Ugh!” Quintus groaned. “What did I tell you—dresses and parties!”
“The Duchess of Malvern?” Her father said between mouthfuls. “The chap is married?”
“I think that is his mother, Papa,”
“I dearly hope so,” Her mother said, her eyes lit with excitement. “Lady Hesketh will be green with envy. She hasn’t managed to get into one exclusive gathering at all this season.”
“So Puss, this duke of yours…” Her father raised his bushy eyebrows. “One of those impoverished ones, I’ll bet. They’re always in need of funds.”
“Papa, I wouldn’t marry a man for his title, and I certainly wouldn’t want a titled gentleman who would marry me for my money.”
“I think you’re seeing it from the wrong angle, Puss,” Her father argued. “It is the simplest business contract man has ever created: an exchange of one resource for another—in this case, a young lady acquires personal security in becoming a duchess—” “Or a countess,” Amanda interrupted, eyeing her father suspiciously.
He inclined his head in agreement. “Yes, or a countess. The duke—or earl—acquires financial security for the future of his family.”
“But it sounds so cold-blooded,”
“Don’t tell me you’re turning female on me, Puss.”
Amanda flinched. “I’m not, but why do I have the feeling that you’ve already ordered a ducal coronet on my next box of stationary?”
“I wouldn’t force you to marry, but it would be nice to see my only daughter attired in crimson and ermine—like Consuelo Vanderbilt in her coronation robe.”
“Mother would prefer I marry an American and remain in New York, wouldn’t you?”
Her mother looked to speak, but her father plowed on.
“Nothing against the type, Puss, but there’s no challenge in it! You’re like me: you need to be plunged into a situation where you can use your brain, to stir up the stagnant waters, to fight if need be. That’s how I made my first million.”
“Marriage isn’t a business , Papa. It’s something involving two people, and that isn’t something you can control with a pen and a piece of paper.” She set her crumpet and marmalade on her plate, her appetite decreasing the more her father spoke.
“Besides, I hadn’t planned to marry for a long while. I’m only eighteen—I haven’t seen anything or done anything of any purpose.”
Her father opened his mouth to speak, but she continued.
“Cripes!” Quintus looked horrified as he joined the table, his plate piled high with eggs, toast and sausages. “I take it back.”
“We’ll be back at Groton soon enough,” Lulu said gloomily, sitting beside their mother.
“Now, my love,” Her father sat opposite her mother and began eating. “Go on.”
“The duke, Amanda’s duke, has…” Her mother paused to open the envelope and extract the letter. “He—or rather the Duchess of Malvern—has invited us for a garden party this Wednesday. Listen—‘The Duchess of Malvern requests the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Vandewater’s company at a garden party on Wednesday, September 17th, 1902’.”
“He isn’t my duke, Mother,” Amanda said repressively. “And that is such short notice.”
“It’s only Monday, Amanda. Plenty of time to choose what to wear to show you off and to make the best effect.”
“Ugh!” Quintus groaned. “What did I tell you—dresses and parties!”
“The Duchess of Malvern?” Her father said between mouthfuls. “The chap is married?”
“I think that is his mother, Papa,”
“I dearly hope so,” Her mother said, her eyes lit with excitement. “Lady Hesketh will be green with envy. She hasn’t managed to get into one exclusive gathering at all this season.”
“So Puss, this duke of yours…” Her father raised his bushy eyebrows. “One of those impoverished ones, I’ll bet. They’re always in need of funds.”
“Papa, I wouldn’t marry a man for his title, and I certainly wouldn’t want a titled gentleman who would marry me for my money.”
“I think you’re seeing it from the wrong angle, Puss,” Her father argued. “It is the simplest business contract man has ever created: an exchange of one resource for another—in this case, a young lady acquires personal security in becoming a duchess—” “Or a countess,” Amanda interrupted, eyeing her father suspiciously.
He inclined his head in agreement. “Yes, or a countess. The duke—or earl—acquires financial security for the future of his family.”
“But it sounds so cold-blooded,”
“Don’t tell me you’re turning female on me, Puss.”
Amanda flinched. “I’m not, but why do I have the feeling that you’ve already ordered a ducal coronet on my next box of stationary?”
“I wouldn’t force you to marry, but it would be nice to see my only daughter attired in crimson and ermine—like Consuelo Vanderbilt in her coronation robe.”
“Mother would prefer I marry an American and remain in New York, wouldn’t you?”
Her mother looked to speak, but her father plowed on.
“Nothing against the type, Puss, but there’s no challenge in it! You’re like me: you need to be plunged into a situation where you can use your brain, to stir up the stagnant waters, to fight if need be. That’s how I made my first million.”
“Marriage isn’t a business , Papa. It’s something involving two people, and that isn’t something you can control with a pen and a piece of paper.” She set her crumpet and marmalade on her plate, her appetite decreasing the more her father spoke.
“Besides, I hadn’t planned to marry for a long while. I’m only eighteen—I haven’t seen anything or done anything of any purpose.”
Her father opened his mouth to speak, but she continued.
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