Chapter One
A bead of perspiration trickles between the blades of my shoulders and rolls down my back, further dampening the back of my dress. Despite how uncomfortable I am in the stifling hot coach, I refrain from complaining as my excitement wins over instead. My posture is stiff as we bounce along the road toward our destination but my smile remains affixed, matching that of my mother’s.
Mother is eloquent, beautiful, and wise beyond her years. She’s a family woman, but isn’t fearful to speak her piece to my father should ever they disagree. Any girl should aspire to become half the woman as she. I know I certainly hope to be.
A flutter of moths dance in my belly as we near the city. My whalebone corset cuts into my ribs, laboring my breathing and I attempt to calm my worries with slow shallow breaths. No matter how many years a woman has been wearing the constricting clothing, she never gets used to it. But, knowing my future will be changing soon, I suck in a sharp intake of stifling hot air and then swallow down the notion that I won’t be getting out of it any time soon. It is my hope that I shall soon be a woman of high society betrothed to one of London’s finest.
This is the day everyone in the Bowden family has been awaiting for the past two years. A day that begins as a series of communal events that could further my family’s social and economic status in our country. This pivotal day happens to be on an unusually warm May morning, but I won’t allow the heat to dampen our plans of my turning the heads of every eligible bachelor in the London expanse in my direction.
Father and Mother have groomed me since upon my sixteenth birthday for this day. Two years of learning etiquette fitting of a woman of a higher social class than our family has come from. Two long years of learning to dance, speaking new languages, and rehearsing for the most important time of a young woman’s life.
The London Season.
My parents, twin brothers, who are near their tenth birthday, and myself having turned eighteen only two months prior, are all eagerly awaiting our arrival by coach to the Mayfair square in Grosvenor.
I glance up at my mother again to find her gazing at me with a proud, loving stare that warms me even more so than this suffocating space. She met my father less than twenty years ago during The London Season. It was love at first sight for the two of them and I foolishly crave for something similar.
Even though I know love at first sight is possible, I’m not holding my breath for that belief. My Aunt Etta, just a fortnight ago, squashed all fantastical ideas that danced around in my head into the dust when she spoke of the truth of The Season. Of how she was thrust into a loveless marriage with my uncle because it was her father, my grandfather’s, ultimate decision to whom she married. She fondly told me of another man that struck her fancy but she wasn’t allowed to marry him, as he wasn’t as wealthy as my uncle.
The thought sickens me, but nonetheless I hold my chin high and attempt to make the best of the situation. Soon, it is my hope, that I’ll marry and begin a family of my own. If I don’t enter into The Season looking for love, then I can simply force myself to love the man who chooses me or that my father chooses for me. Aunt Etta made the mistake of falling for someone before marriage and not after. I shall go about this with a wiser head upon my shoulders.
Mother always says I’m a flower that sways in whichever direction the wind blows and still remains upright. And this new stage in my life will be no different. I shall take this too with an open mind and a patient spirit.
“Cora, darling,” my father’s deep voice interrupts me from my inner thoughts. “Upon arrival at the Duke of Chamberlain’s Grosvenor manor, you and I shall take a walk to the Mayfair square there in town. Tomorrow is the presentation at court and it would please me if you were viewed upon as a confident, able woman who is comfortable in any situation. Many of the young women will be nervous and frightened. We need for you to shine amongst the rest, dear. If we inspect the lay of the court beforehand, it’ll only serve to make you feel more at ease upon your appearance tomorrow.”
“Of course, Father. Thank you.”
He smiles at me. “I’ve heard that Hugh Claxton’s eldest son will be at the event. He’s completed his studies at Oxford several years back and has been an apprentice to his father’s legacy of coal factories ever since. While it can’t be certain how many factories they own here in England, rumor holds that it’s upwards of ten or twenty. The Claxton boy would make for a fine husband—a husband I could be proud for my daughter to marry.”
I swallow and smile briefly at my father. “Is it that you would prefer I focus my endeavors on landing Mr. Claxton, Father?”
My eyes flit over to Mother and her lips purse together in what would appear to be frustration. It was always her wish that I go to the coming out ceremonies and become selected by a wealthy businessman. Father never spoke of an agenda prior to now. Despite her silence, I sense her disproval of his insinuation.
He leans over and takes my gloved hand with his. My eyes scan his weathered face that’s dusted with white hair that’s been shaved into a neat, distinguished line along his jawbone. While we may not be as affluent as that of the Claxton’s, Father has provided us a fairly lavish lifestyle, being that he’s merely a cotton farmer. We have our own servants who work the land, while my father takes on the role of a businessman and negotiates trade deals with textile factory owners. This, perhaps, is another reason why he’s suggesting I make myself available to Mr. Claxton. Future business that could line my father’s pockets could result from a marriage between that of myself and the son of the factory tycoon.
“Dearest Cora,” Father says with a gentle smile, his blue eyes are the exact shade of sky blue on a warm summer day and mine match almost precisely. “You must take measures to catch the eye of the young man, for upon my research, he’ll be the most wealthy and prominent lad at the Grosvenor coming out ceremony. Because of how beautiful and intelligent you are, you shall no doubt interest every young man there. However, it is my wish that you play off their advances and hold out for Mr. Claxton.”
Frowning, I drop my gaze to his hand holding mine. “Father, what shall happen if he never calls upon me?”
The notion of turning down every man in an effort to wait for one seems risky, for if he never calls, I could go on to be a husbandless spinster.
“I vow, Cora darling, to escort you to these events and handle all of the business dealings. Because of your beauty, I have no doubts that while I make arrangements with his father, that you will entice the young man. If we remain a steadfast team of two, we’ll no doubt further this family’s social status and land the most sought after bachelor in all of England.”
The pressure to land one particular young man in a sea of eligible ones is a daunting task. But Father squeezes my hand and with it, he pushes away my insecurities. Father is confident in me, therefore, I am confident in myself.
When the coach slows to a halt, my younger brothers become restless and begin to quarrel with one other. My father pins them with a stern glare and they both settle. The door to the coach is suddenly opened and with it, refreshing cooler air swirls in to greet us. I exhale the breath I’d been holding and take the hand of the driver. He assists me in exiting our ride and the moment my new shoes touch the gravel, a sense of excitement washes over me.
I’m really here.
The London Season is upon me.
It’s finally my time to shine and begin a family of my own.
Glancing back toward the coach, I smile to see my father clutch onto my mother’s hand after they climb out. He leans in and presses a sweet kiss to her cheek. My mother an older copy of myself, has always been beautiful with her thick, dark, wavy hair and plump lips, and when she flashes him a coy smile, her beauty increases tenfold. It is my innermost craving to have what my parents have. She loves him unconditionally and supports him in all of his endeavors.
The sun beats down on my face and I lift my chin, basking in the warmth. I’ve only been in this town for a mere couple of minutes and I already feel at home. Perhaps I’ll fall in love with the Claxton man. Perhaps one day we’ll prepare our own daughter for The London Season. Fantasies of a loving, comical, and hardworking husband, much like my father, to share my life with swirl around me and a pleased smile graces my lips.
“Cora, sweetheart,” Father says, sliding a palm to the small of my back. “Let’s take our walk to where they’re holding court tomorrow. Mr. Riddington, the Duke’s butler, is escorting your mother and brothers to our accommodations while in town. Your mother shall unpack our things while we explore.”
I nod and drink in the busy landscape. Horse drawn carriages line the dirty streets and storefronts bustle with people laughing and transacting business. Despite being in the city, the town has a welcoming feel to it that reminds me of our countryside home. Father and I stroll down the street toward the open area that they must use for frequent town meetings. It is outdoors and has a stage complete with a podium and is surrounded by benches. A few chairs, including two fancier carved wooden ones, remain on the stage for that of the parliament. Father tells me that sometimes the Queen indulges herself at these events. The idea of meeting her thrills me.
The gate is unlocked, so Father unlatches it and escorts me inside. I try to imagine it bustling with handsome young men and nervous women. Swallowing down the butterflies that dance in my belly, I practice a smile much like that of my mother’s and stare through the pretend throngs of people to lock eyes on what I imagine could be a handsome Mr. Claxton.
This shall be an easy task.
I’ll smile and entertain him with my wit and charm. He’ll invite me to dinners and social events. And the rest will be history. This time next year, I could be carrying his first child.
“Are you prepared to make your father proud?” Father asks from beside me.
I throw my arms around his neck in a public display of affection and kiss his cheek. “Father, I can do this. You’ll see.”
He pats my back and chuckles. “I have no doubts, dear, for the lad will be lucky to have a woman such as yourself—much like I was a lucky man to steal your mother’s affections.”
Pulling away, I smile at him. “Mother was a lucky woman too, you see. You’re a catch and I do pray that Mr. Claxton is at least half the man you are, for that would be enough for me.”