I wish to dedicate this story to my friend, Maddie. She is an excellent writer and co-writer of The Proud and the Prejudiced. Maddie has supported me and most importantly supported my confidence. She has made me realize my comedic abilities and that quality should override quantity. This one's for you! (I use her favorite Austen book, Emma.)
Chapter One
During the turn of the nineteenth century New York became a distinguished friend in the intricate business of society. Just as it's associates, New York had the Names, the Beauties, the Geniuses, and the Money. It had all the ingredients to grow heritage of style and wit as Paris or London. At the Weston's marriage reception, the champagne flowed steadily, the flowers and feathers were plucked for the ladies' hair and all that was lacking was Emma Woodhouse.
Good name, lavish wealth, well breeding, and the audacity of being an intelligent and handsome woman was enough justification for ladies to spurn her. Their dislike was evident to Emma, as well as the admiration from their husbands. But this did not sway her flirtatious efforts to remain a constant figure in society.
"Well, I see that Miss Woodhouse is positively late for the evening." the woman smiled sardonically, "Pity."
"Oh, Augusta... you're too much. Mrs. Weston is but six feet from you." Scolded her companion, Mrs. Cole in a louder tone.
Mrs. Elton looked behind her and made eye contact with Mrs. Weston. With the flick of her decorated wrist and a cheerful smile, she waved to Mrs. Weston affably. She pulled her head back to Mrs. Cole and exhaled a tittering laugh, "How ignorant the poor woman is. Emma Woodhouse associates with Mrs. Weston for her husband."
Mrs. Cole's eyes protruded and she covered her gasp with a lace fan. "But they have just been married for four hours! And besides, Mr. Weston is like a father to Miss Woodhouse. Look there," gesturing to the blissful couple, "the Westons are vulgarly displaying affection at the table. One might think they're in love."
"A ploy to throw the poor bride off, I fear."
"Well, he has been divorced twice-I think once more shall be fashionable. That's odd though, dearest Augusta. I heard that she was after your husband."
"Mr. E? Oh, that is odd. She will not be marrying a moneybag if that is what she is after. She shall be marrying a bible and you know how final it is." Through the cool smile of Augusta Elton, hid troubled thoughts that burned her mind. A woman who will not admit her true age has the job of retaining her welcome marriage presents: wealth and connections. Divorce would support Mrs. Elton's purse shortly but not her passion to control her property.
Mrs. Elton exhaled a deep drag of her cigarette and spoke her musings; "A wife needs control in her husband. Whether it is the buttonhole on his shoulder or the virtue of his person, women take the task of repairing the defects. A man is the only property that ladies possess." She paused and tapped the end of her cigarette nervously.
A glint of anger rose to her cheeks, "I hardly see it unnatural to be worried in a world with Emmas floating about. They always want to make a match-for themselves or for others. Of course it is excellent diversion when one is not part of the game."
"Smartly said, Augusta. But isn't it also a delight when one is part of the game?"
Mrs. Elton gave a questioning frown.
"Oh, Augusta, I know you have flirted with Mr. Knightley on more than one occasion."
"Of course! Flirting is not flirting unless if it is done on more than one occasion." She sipped the last of her champagne and reached for another.
"Then you must see it from her side, my dear. Claim another! Conquer another man for your possession. Jealousy is the highest form of adhesive in a marriage. Elton will be sure not to notice a single advance made by Miss. Woodhouse if you have yourself draped over the arm of New York's bachelors."
Mrs. Cole flashed a tempting smile to Mrs. Elton and she in return laughed gleefully at the prospect.
"Will you join me in this conquest my dear, Catherine?"
"Oh, no, I would not receive any enjoyment out of the conquest since Mr. Cole is out of town." She sighed resignedly, "They always leave when it is to be on our expense of amusement."
"How true! It is quite abominable of them. Then will you aid me in my conquest?"
"What friend would I be if I did not aid you?"
"Then who shall it be?"
The ladies' scrupulous eyes searched the room for the perfect man. Mrs. Cole's sight fell upon a gentleman who was scratching behind his left ear and adjusting his spectacles. He was dressed in yesterday's fashion and had an unfavorable air with a propensity to bump into profound people and strike up witless conversation.
"Robert is too dull and a simpleton to make even the wife of the pope jealous."
"The pope does not have a wife, Catherine!"
"Does not matter. He still would not cause a tinge of jealousy." Mrs. Cole continued, "Geoffrey is much too handsome-he already has a clan of ladies making their husbands jealous. Maybe Knightley (who is not here yet) or may one dare think-Mr. Goddard?"
"Superb choices. Yet I heard that Mr. Weston's son, a Mr. Frank Churchill, is coming this evening. Supposedly he is extremely handsome and well acquainted with the fashions of London or Paris, I forget which. I should dearly like to observe his qualifications."
"So would I. So would all the ladies in New York! Are you sure that he is not... above your need?"
"We'll see... we'll see. My needs may change with his arrival."
Mrs. Elton and Mrs. Cole ceased their conversation as soon as the lovely bride made her way over to their tête-à-tête. Mrs. Weston smiled widely; reflecting the glow of happiness that could only be the product of love. Happiness of that sort only brought bitter envy to the ones who were not in it.
"Mrs. Elton and Mrs. Cole, I have not spoken to you all day! I am sorry for the neglect, but Mr. Weston has been occupying my attention for long." She paused, looked behind her and beamed a smile at her new husband; "I saw you glance at me earlier-is there something that you wish to ask me?"
"How observant you are Miss," she faltered designedly and emphasized, "Mrs. Weston! We were just discussing your divine son-in-law that we have yet to meet!"
"Yes, indeed, he is late-as well as Emma and Mr. Knightley. I cannot contrive a reason why!"
Mrs. Elton pondered and bit her tongue. Mrs. Cole took up the silence and asked, "Have you met Mr. Churchill yet?"
"No, I have not. He has been in Paris for the last two years and has corresponded by mail. He wished both Mr. Weston and myself the best of happiness in a letter when our engagement was announced. He seems a gentleman to the core."
"Indeed, one can find out many things by a man's penmanship and style." Mrs. Elton commented earnestly.
"Yes, that is why I asked Mr. Cole never to write to me before we were married! A wife should always be the last to know her husband's faults."
The room began to grow loud in excited whispers. The only justification that would present such an outcry would be an arrival by an important figure. He stood tall in silk top hat and fashionable attire at the threshold. Pride, wealth, amiability, and good looks were worn in all his features, gestures and presumably speech as he gave his name to be announced. The women were flying to their husbands for an identity and as soon as they were given their candy, they rushed back to their sorority group and divulged all the information that they could gather in seconds.
"Mr. Frank Churchill," were the words that broke the loud intended silence. He was announced to everybody's satisfaction.