Mrs Lockheart yawned. Not a polite, hidden behind a gloved hand kind, but the wide-mouthed moaning kind. Alberta wanted to laugh, but knew she should not. She held back a chuckle as best she could, it turned into a snort. She often felt bored to tears herself at some of the charity functions she was condemned to attend, but it simply wasn’t done to show one’s displeasure so vividly. Poor Mrs Lockheart simply didn’t know the rules, and this could well be the final insult to the Society matrons who had only reluctantly allowed her position as Christian Lockheart’s wife sway them. Lockheart was one of the most powerful men in the country, was the right hand man of the President and his family wealth was almost legendary. But Mrs Lockheart had once been his housekeeper, and sadly had not been taught the things that this clucking gaggle of women deemed suitable.
The speech had been interminably long, the speaker unutterably dull. Alberta had wished she were able to show her own displeasure, but years of breeding had stayed her hand. She almost found herself wanting to cheer the poor woman who would now be ostracized she was sure. Well, she would not do so. She thought about the letter she had written to Mr MacAlpine and wondered if having a little personal sway with the wife of Christian Lockheart might be to her advantage one day. She had no clue of course as to whether he would wish to correspond with her, let alone marry her and rescue her from the tedium that made up her life, but as she looked at poor Mrs Lockheart’s anxious blushes she knew that she would befriend her anyway. It was the right thing to do, and that mattered more than any advantage she may gain from it personally.
After the speech had finally ended, the women made their way into the courtyard of the hotel, where a buffet and refreshments had been laid out. The women were already beginning to cluster in their usual cliques, and Mrs Lockheart was being shunned by them all. She stood alone at the table by the punch bowl, sipping at the fruit concoction almost absent-mindedly. “Mrs Lockheart, how lovely to see you here. Politicians get such terribly short honeymoons. I presume your husband is back at our President’s side already? But I must offer you my warmest congratulations upon your nuptials. My Father and Mother said the ceremony was quite beautiful,” she said, loudly ensuring her voice carried to everyone present. It wouldn’t hurt to shame some of these old biddies a little and remind them of exactly who it was they were being so mean to.
“Indeed, he is a busy man, and he is needed. Our country comes above a honeymoon do you not think?” Alberta nodded. “And thank you, it was a wonderful day. So many lovely people wishing us well. Please do thank your parents for the delightful crystal vase they gave to us as a gift. I use it every day for our hallway arrangements. Everybody remarks upon it.” Alberta could sense her nervousness, her voice was thin and her hands were quivering, and yet she was still able to find just the right answers.
“They were honored to be invited. Father thinks your husband should be our next President. Says he is a man without fault.”
“Well, I think so – but then many might say that I am biased.” Mrs Lockheart giggled. Alberta’s heart went out to her. She was just trying her best to fit in, to do right by her husband and yet she was being met with scorn at every turn. Well, not Alberta. She would take her under her wing and do what she could to get her accepted and even appreciated by this bunch of harpies.
“It is good that you are in love with your husband Mrs Lockheart.”
“I know many people do not believe that, they seem to think that I only married him for his money. But I would have married him if he was penniless.” The words were vehement, and Alberta did not doubt that she meant them. She hoped a few people around them might have heard too. “Please, do call me Sarah,” she said. “It is so nice to have someone who is prepared to speak with me; I will have to make you my best friend.” Alberta spotted the winces on a few faces nearby, and was amazed at the courage of this young woman to have spoken her truth so simply. She had made light of the words, but her meaning was clear. It hurt her that she was on the outside, and that she found herself in a world she did not understand, without help and guidance or even a friendly face.
“I shall be more than honored,” she said briskly. “Now, we shall have to go shopping. You are going to need to spend inordinate amounts of your husband’s money in order to keep up with fashion. Why, my gloves are already terribly déclassé, and I only purchased them this morning.” They laughed and Alberta could see the gratitude in Sarah’s eyes.
“I should like that very much, have not had much time until recently to consider doing so. Much of my wardrobe is hopelessly unsuitable.”
“I shall be delighted to change that for you. There is nothing I enjoy more than purchasing clothing, and our delightful new department stores make it so terribly easy now.”
By the end of the rally Alberta was pleased to note that a few more women had gravitated towards them. A few had even complimented Sarah on her morning gown and neat hat. Alberta had smiled to herself with each little victory, and had been happy to share a wink or a raised eyebrow surreptitiously to show their amusement at the women’s shallow vanity. When her carriage pulled up outside she turned to Sarah and kissed her warmly on both cheeks. “I shall see you tomorrow? Is eleven too early?”
“Alberta, you forget I was a housekeeper. To me eleven is quite late!” A few faces looked stunned that she had so openly admitted her past occupation.
“I suppose it would be. But, will it suit?”
“It will. I look forward to it.”
Alberta sat in the back of her comfortable barouche and thought about how difficult life could be for those not born into the ranks of the upper classes. Young ladies were encouraged to take up their causes, to champion the poor and the sick and even to help working women stand up for their rights. Yet when one of the very people they campaigned for, so vociferously, appeared in their midst, Society did not approve. Yet, they could not take Mr Lockheart to task for his infringement, and so they blamed his wife. It was simply not deemed to be possible that such women could genuinely love their husbands, they must only have married them to get their dirty hands on their money. Yet, it seemed to Alberta that she knew of few genuine love matches amongst her own class. Most had married for money, or to create links politically. Maybe that was why so many of these unhappy, unloved matrons so despised those wives who had been married despite these things and were truly loved and cherished by their husbands.
She had known that she would make an advantageous match since she was a girl. There had been no secret made of it in her home. Yet Papa still had not found her a husband. She was getting older, and she was beginning to wonder if he ever intended her to marry. But she longed to have children, and she knew that time was running out for her. She raised her hand to her hair and began to twirl the long golden strands around her fingers as she tried to think of why it could possibly be that she, as one of the most eligible heiresses on the East Coast, had not yet been found a suitable husband. She would have to ask her parents, but both of them were always so vague and so often tried to change the subject whenever she brought it up that she had simply stopped trying. And so, when her old friend, Madelaine, had written to her of her friend Gideon MacAlpine’s intention to advertise for a bride, she had thought it to be the answer to her dilemma. If a marriage would not be arranged for her, then she would do it herself before it was too late. Everything seemed to have worked out wonderfully for Madelaine and William, they had even found a deep and abiding love. Maybe she might be so lucky too.
The carriage stopped outside an elegant mansion and her driver jumped down to open the door. A neat set of steps dropped down and he offered her his hand to assist her. She alighted gracefully and skipped inside the imposing building. “Chalmers, is Papa at home?” she asked as the butler swung the heavy oak door closed behind her. She took off her hat and gloves and passed them to a maid, who bustled out of sight with them.
“He is in his study Miss Alberta. There is a letter for you in your room. It was delivered just after you left for your rally. It is from Montana, I presume from Miss Madelaine, sorry Mrs Butler,” she corrected herself. Alberta grinned, she still found it odd to think of lovely Maddy as married too, but it was definitely so. She didn’t doubt it would be long before there was the pitter patter of tiny feet on the way too. “I know you always look forward to her letters Miss.”
“Thank you, I shall read it later once I have seen Papa,” Alberta said, dismissing the faithful old retainer with a warm smile.
She walked across the grand hallway and down the corridor towards the wood paneled study. The scent of her Papa assailed her nostrils as she opened the doors. It was a heady mixture of hair tonic, cologne and cigar smoke. It always made her feel safe and cosseted somehow. “Good afternoon my darling,” Papa said as he looked up from his desk. “How were the dragons today?”
“Breathing just as much fire as usual,” she said with a grin. “Poor Mrs Lockheart seems to be their current prey.”
“Oh dear, that won’t make Christian a happy man.”
“I’m sure it won’t, but I doubt she will ever mention it to him. She would not wish to trouble him I don’t think.”
“You may well be quite right. She is a sweet little thing, utterly besotted with the man. Have no idea why, he can be an intransigent devil!”
“You know you admire him, and his politics, so you are fooling nobody Papa,” she chided him gently. He smiled at her indulgently.
“So, what did you wish to see me for?”
“An advance on my allowance, if I may? I offered to take Mrs Lockheart shopping, and it would look most peculiar if I do not purchase some new gowns and hats myself,” she said batting her eyes at him and trying to look girlishly innocent. He laughed, seeing through her ploy quickly. He stood up and moved around the desk to kiss her on the cheek.
“Thank you my darling. Christian will be very grateful I am sure. Have the seamstress, or the department stores, of your choice send the bills to me, and here,” he handed her some money from his pocket, “treat her to a nice lunch somewhere too.” She hugged him.
“Thank you Papa.”
“You are a good girl, have never been any trouble. I simply couldn’t say no to you, especially when it is for such a good cause - now get away from me before I give you the world. I have work to do!”
She ran up the stairs and into her room. As Chalmers had promised there was a letter waiting for her on her bureau and she picked it up and flung herself down on the chaise in front of the fire to read it. The handwriting was unfamiliar, a male hand she was sure. She looked at the return address, it was from him. She sucked in her breath, and felt a flutter of excitement as she ripped the envelope open. She prayed he would be amenable to their meeting, to their being wed. She so wanted to start a family, to have a child of her own to love and care for.
Dear Miss Freemont,
I am delighted that you were open to the proposition I sent to you, via our mutual friend Mrs Madelaine Butler. I read your letter with much hope that between us we may indeed come to some kind of arrangement that will suit us both. William and Madelaine have both been most vocal on the subject of you, and both seem more than eager for us to find the kind of contentment that they have found. I must tell you now that Sun River seems to have had more than its fair share of ‘mail order’ romances; many of my friends have either placed or answered advertisements to achieve their happiness. I do hope that their luck will rub off on us!
I will not deny that your Father’s political contacts would be of particular benefit to me, to have the ear of such a distinguished ex-Governor cannot harm my own gubernatorial campaign after all. But it was your pragmatism and straightforward manner of writing that made me think we truly might suit, and what I detected as a wry sense of humor too. I do not wish you to think that I would choose a wife simply because of the contacts and support that she might bring to my campaign!
I would have no objections to your wishing to pursue your singing further, should you choose to do so here. I know it would be frowned upon in Boston and New York, but Montana likes to do things a little differently. Women have, in some ways, much more freedom here to follow their own paths. I would certainly not wish to get in your way. However, I would need you to be circumspect, and obviously discreet about any views you may hold that do not agree with the policies I stand for. I would also need you to attend many key functions with me, especially in the early days of our marriage, should we decide that we suit.
I do appreciate that this may be hard to do, but I can assure you that I will more than make it worth your while once the campaign is done and I am elected. You will be free to ask me for anything you desire, and if it is in my power to grant it I shall do so.
I have enclosed a ticket to Great Falls. The sooner you can come here the better, though I must warn you that our every move will be scrutinized in the gossip columns, and we shall rarely have a moment alone. But the campaign will be over in time, and then a few weeks of work and then we can fade from sight a little. I know it sounds a terrible chore, and I know I am asking for much as I do not yet know you, nor do you know if you will even like me – but I can assure you wholeheartedly that I will do my best to ensure you have a good life, a happy life, with me.
Yours most truthfully
Gideon MacAlpine
Alberta sat up, and perched on the edge of her seat. His letter was surprisingly affectionate. He had not been rude, or demanding. Nor had he seemed arrogant. His confidence that he would be elected was actually quite attractive. She firmly believed that a man should believe he is going to win if he is to even stand for election. But he gave her neither false claims, nor platitudes and she respected that. He was prepared to admit that his life would be less than pleasant for some time, that she may not be high on his priorities until it was all done.
She had her doubts; no sensible woman would enter into such a situation without them she was sure. But he sounded genuine, as if he wished for a wife for all the normal reasons, someone to support him and care for him, someone for him to cherish and to honor. The letter was not gushingly romantic, but she felt sure that she could consign her fears that he was simply looking to wed to further his chances in the election to rest. He seemed to want to share in the kind of good fortune that his friends had found, and she did too. She looked at the ticket he had enclosed. Understandably he could not come to her at this time. Her train would leave Boston later in the week. She barely had even three days to get packed and ready to make the biggest change of her life. But she knew she was ready for it, and she knew exactly what she would ask of him when the campaign was done.
She sighed heavily. It was exciting, and daunting to think of her new life, as the wife of the Governor of Montana – should he, please God, be elected. There was much she would have to do before she left, not least telling her parents of her intentions. But, it also meant that she only had three days to transform Sarah and get her accepted into Society. It was a difficult ask but, like her soon to be husband, she had the confidence to do it. Sarah had all the raw materials. She was bright, funny, attractive – and most importantly she had a lot of money now. If she looked the part, and knew the rules, she would soon have them all eating out of her hand. Alberta would make sure of it.