The Life She Wanted: A Novel(15)
Pandora sighed in relief when the car pulled into the gates of Riverview. They passed the paddock where Robert Van Luyen kept his horses, the pond where Archie liked to fish, and the greenhouse where Esther grew vegetables.
Riverview was built in a different style from Rosecliff, but it was just as imposing. It was Georgian style with a red brick colonial facade and lush ivy climbing the walls. When they were young, Pandora and Virginia and Archie used to play hide-and-go-seek in the forecourt. Once, Archie had climbed up the ivy and slipped in through an upstairs window, and it had taken Pandora and Virginia ages to find him.
Pandora thanked Daniel and stepped out of the car. The lights were off in the main house. Esther had the night off, and Pandora’s father was probably relaxing in the cottage.
She wasn’t ready to face him. Willie would be shocked to see Pandora. He wasn’t expecting her to come home until tomorrow morning.
Pandora sat on a stone bench near the garage. The dress she had picked out for the treasure hunt, yellow tulle with a sheer overlay and tiered skirt, bunched at her waist.
She remembered when she arrived at Riverview as a child and felt so happy and accepted. She and Archie started a tradition of collecting leaves in the fall. Archie found an old shoe box, and every year they’d write a wish on the best leaves and deposit them in the box. The first year, Pandora wished that her mother would return, and Archie wished for a new puppy so his dog, Speckles, had a friend. Another year, Pandora wished that her father’s shoulder would stop hurting, and that she’d get a new hairbrush for Christmas. Archie wished not to have to wear suspenders to church and to be the fastest runner in his class. They only stopped collecting leaves when Archie turned eighteen and Virginia teased him about their childish fun.
She often thought she’d pass the tradition on to her children—children she’d hoped to have with Owen. But that wouldn’t happen now.
And there would be no more house parties, no more festive tea dresses sewn on Esther’s sewing machine, no more discussions with Virginia about what colors best suited Pandora’s fair hair and blue eyes. On Monday, she would have to go to the bank and withdraw the money her father set aside for secretarial school.
The Van Luyens’ striped tabby cat, Thomas, jumped into her lap. She stroked his fur meditatively. She thought about what Lillian had said about people being born to be who they are and that there was nothing anyone could do about it. But what if Pandora had been born to live in a grand estate, to have a family she cherished and a career she was passionate about?
First, she had lost her mother, and now she had lost Owen. She couldn’t keep losing the things she loved. Somehow she had to find a way to achieve everything she dreamed of.
Chapter Four
July 1926, Hyde Park, New York
Pandora spent Sunday afternoon helping Esther in the kitchen. She was almost grateful to have work to do. It kept her from going over the previous days’ events in her mind.
Everything about the Winthrops’ house party had been humiliating. She was ashamed she’d left without thanking her hostess. But the thought of facing Mabel Winthrop while she twittered on about Owen and Lillian being the perfect couple had been too painful to contemplate.
Pandora told everyone at Riverview that she’d had a wonderful time. Her father wanted to hear about the tennis matches, and Esther was interested in the fruit compote they served with dinner, and Mary, the maid, wanted to know if the Winthrops’ maids really had to change the guest room sheets twice a day.
But when she was alone in her room, she couldn’t contain her disappointment. Everything that she had looked forward to—a glorious summer of parties and dances with Owen, the anticipation of their first kiss, Owen declaring his love for her—had disappeared before her eyes.
She had been so sure Owen would propose before he returned to Princeton. Instead of moving to New York to start secretarial school, she’d hoped she’d spend the fall at Riverview, planning their wedding and creating designs for her boutique. She had dreamed of a ceremony at the church in Hyde Park followed by a grand reception at Rosecliff. Her father would walk her down the aisle, looking dashing in a top hat and tails. At the reception he would give a speech. Pandora would sit at the head table, dazzling in a white gown, surrounded by the people she loved, and bursting with happiness.
On Sunday evening, Pandora cleared the dessert plates from Riverview’s dining room while Maude and Virginia chatted at the table. Archie had gone upstairs to his room, and Robert Van Luyen was in his study, smoking a cigar. Earlier that day, Pandora had described to Virginia Owen’s proposal to Lillian. It still hurt: Lillian’s glee when she discovered the jewelry box under the hood. The way the other girls clustered around her. What hurt more than anything, though, was knowing that Owen had never loved Pandora.
“Vivian Clarkson is holding a bridal tea at Beechtree for Lillian next Sunday,” Maude said, sipping her glass of port. Maude was a stout woman with thin lips and dyed brown hair. She wore a floral ankle-length dress with full sleeves, a rope of pearls hung around her neck.
“Lillian got engaged yesterday, isn’t it a bit soon for a bridal tea?” Virginia asked. She flashed a cheeky smile. “Or had Vivian and Lillian been planning the tea for weeks, betting on when Owen would propose as if it were a horse race at Saratoga Springs?”
“Vivian was going to hold a welcome tea for Lillian anyway, it’s a perfect excuse,” Maude commented.