An Heiress to Remember (The Gilded Age Girls Club #3) - Maya Rodale Page 0,21

to, and creditors, and customers, and hundreds of shopgirls and staff members.

The card from the Ladies of Liberty had been resting on her vanity table, next to a silver mirror and brush set from Tiffany and a pretty jar of Dr. Swan’s Midnight Miracle cream which she had purchased from an advertisement in the newspaper and which she hoped would do something about the faint lines beginning to appear around her eyes.

We take callers on Tuesdays, the dressmaker had said. The dressmaker, Miss Adeline Black, who had wisely advised her on consulting lawyers and other such businesslike things and it had proved to be invaluable. She had also crafted dresses for Beatrice that made her feel like it was a good idea to storm into a board of directors meeting and make demands.

Today was Tuesday.

Beatrice went downtown to the address on the card and found a plain brick town house. She was shown into the drawing room immediately. The room was sparsely but comfortably furnished, with many upholstered chairs and settees to accommodate a dozen or so women of varying ages, sizes, colors, everything, presenting a full spectrum of the humanity of womankind. They were all very clearly at home with each other, as they sipped tea and ate sandwiches and chatted amongst themselves.

“Duchess, I’m so glad to see you!” Miss Black, the dressmaker, stood to greet her and gave a warm smile. “I think I speak for everyone present when I say that we’ve been expecting you.”

“I’m afraid you all have me at a disadvantage,” Beatrice replied nervously. “And please, call me Beatrice.”

Another woman stood and stepped forward, hand outstretched, and introduced herself and the group.

“I’m Miss Harriet Burnett and we are the Ladies of Liberty. We are a secret and subversive group dedicated to the professional advancement of women. Ever since we learned of your new position as president of Goodwin’s, we have been expecting you. Hoping, rather.”

A blonde woman seated nearby said, “For goodness’ sake’s, Harriet, let the woman sit down and have some tea.”

“My apologies. I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s just that the possibilities of your position mean that—”

“Please—do sit. Have some tea.” The woman gave her a welcoming smile. “I’m Miss Ava Lumley.”

She introduced the rest of the women and their various endeavors—writers mingled with physicians and nurses, activists sipped tea with architects, businesswomen spoke in hushed tones with society matrons. All of them women.

Beatrice had never seen a collection of talented, entrepreneurial women assembled all at once, and together they made a simple but stunning show that women could—and did—do more than simper among the draperies. No matter what the newspapers or history books would have one believe.

Beatrice had had some idle awareness of it, deep down, but this made it all clear to her.

Harriet, who could scarcely conceal her delight for Beatrice’s presence, launched right in. “Please accept our sincere congratulations on your new role at the store, Beatrice.”

She smiled and said “thank you” and was embarrassed because she might have had such an impressive job but she felt woefully inept at it.

“I think I speak for all women present when I say what an accomplishment it is for you to attain such a high-profile position, serving as a beacon to all the other women out there.”

Beatrice sipped her tea as the pressure in her chest mounted, because good God she had not thought of that on top of everything else. She still hadn’t figured out how to handle the staff and now she had to be mindful of all the other women out there, watching her, pinning their hopes and dreams upon her success. It was a different sort of pressure than one felt just being judged by society and coming up wanting—she was accustomed to that. But to fail and dash the hearts and hopes of young girls? Well, now she had something else to keep her up at night. Splendid.

“Thank you for your felicitations. I am so glad to know that people are hopeful for my success. But I don’t know that I can be a beacon to other women, as you say. I am quite over my head, you see. As you must know, Goodwin’s is not what it once was. I have a monumental task ahead of me to make it glorious again.” She sipped her tea. What had she been thinking? This is what she got for storming into meetings, running her mouth off. This is why she’d always been told to sit still and bite