“Are you all right, Mother?” Cornelia asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
“I am wonderful, my dear. Positively wonderful. I am a grandmother, for heaven’s sake, the greatest of all rites of passage.” She paused, casting the line again with a practiced flick of the wrist.
She smiled, thinking of her news, of Peter Gerry, of how he had asked so many questions about her life here at Biltmore. Edith had known Peter and his wife, Mathilde, for many, many years, their paths crossing often during her life in Washington. They were a dynamic duo, a Washington power couple. Peter, the handsome senator, was the great-grandson of Elbridge Gerry, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, and Mathilde had inherited one of America’s most outrageous railroad fortunes—and, if the rumors were to be believed, tempers.
Edith had never seen that side of Mathilde, but she knew she could be quite competitive. She tried to stay out of society gossip, but even Edith couldn’t help but be amused when the word around town was that Mathilde had purchased a strand of black pearls belonging to the Prince of Russia to supposedly keep up with her friend and competitor Evalyn McLean, who had purchased the Hope Diamond. The pearls were said to be ill-fated, and Edith had heard whispers that the marriage of Mathilde and Peter was no more. Because of the pearls, many said. Others believed the split was due to the arguing. Edith had seen enough in her life to believe that perhaps both were true.
She hadn’t expected to get more information as close to the source as she did that January. Edith had been anticipating this particular speech in Memorial Continental Hall for days. Helen Keller was set to address a benefit for the American Foundation for the Blind, a worthy cause in which Edith was quite interested. She walked inside the beautiful building, noting that its embellished balconies were already full of well-heeled society women—and a few men. She pulled her fur-trimmed coat tighter around her to stave off the chill of the evening and, looking around to find her group, felt a touch on her arm.
She turned and found herself, an instant later, embracing her friend Peter Gerry.
“Edith!” he said, pulling back from her. “It has been too long. You look sensational.”
She smiled demurely. “You too. I’m so glad to see you.” Then she remembered her friend’s recent misfortune. “I’m so sorry, Peter,” she said. “Are the rumors true?”
He smiled. “They are. But why should you be sorry? I’m certainly not.”
She put a gloved hand to her mouth to cover her laugh. “Mathilde is a perfectly lovely woman.”
“Yes, yes. Perfectly lovely until she doesn’t get her way… But I wish her well and all of the appropriate things.”
Edith smiled. “Well, I should be off to find my friends—”
“Shall we sit together?” Peter interrupted.
She glanced over his shoulder, spotting her usual group, but decided her companions would be all right without her. Besides, Peter had always been a good friend and she hated the idea of him being there alone. Although, as handsome as he was in his three-piece suit, she couldn’t imagine his being alone for long.
“Does the town know?” he whispered as they sat down among the throngs of other participants. Even at six feet tall, Edith had to adjust her position to see over the hat of the woman in front of her.
“Know what?”
“That Mathilde is Sumner Welles’s problem now?”
Edith gasped.
“Then I take that as a no.”
Sumner was Caroline Astor’s grandnephew, a well-heeled member of the State Department who ran in their circles. Peter was being flippant, but Edith knew the betrayal must have stung. “Oh, you know those Astors. Always up to no good,” she joked, hoping to lessen the blow he must have been feeling.
“President Coolidge reportedly is very unhappy about the match,” Peter said. “There is even talk of Sumner being stripped of his diplomatic career, so perhaps all’s well that ends well.” He winked.
Edith studied him, deciding whether this could be true, but he only nodded. She had no reason to doubt him. It was only then that she added, “On that note, I hope us sitting together doesn’t cause any rumors.”
He smiled at her and clasped her hand. “Oh, I certainly hope it does.” He paused. “Better yet, let’s make the rumors true!”
Edith smirked. She had plenty of wealthy, handsome suitors, that was for certain. But none quite so young. Peter was, after all, almost seven years her junior. She was certain that the mere sight of her here with Peter would cause a flurry of gossip column stories in the following days. “Peter. Be serious.”
“I am serious. Why not let me take you to dinner?”
She shook her head.
“I have some difficult decisions coming up in the Senate, and I’d love your opinion.”
She was warming to this idea.
“Who do you have a better time discussing politics with than me?” he added.
She smiled. That was true. And things with Peter were easy. They were comfortable. She trusted him.
“What’s your take on allowing Count Károlyi to make speeches while he’s in the US?” she asked. It was a small but contentious matter of debate whether the former president of the Hungarian Republic should be able to speak freely about his controversial politics while on US soil.
Peter put his finger up. “I’ll tell you tomorrow. At dinner.”
Truly, deep in her heart, Edith had not imagined then that this simple interaction would be the start of something so important. But Peter was not only a brilliant man, he was a kind one. She adored him, and he reciprocated. They had the same goals. They could make a difference in the world. And, after Mathilde married Sumner in June, she was out of excuses to push him away. Her other suitors were wonderful. But Peter Gerry wowed her.
Even still, she couldn’t help but feel slightly conflicted when she confessed to her daughter, “I, Nelly, am getting married.”
She had meant to say “am in love.” But she couldn’t quite bring herself to. Did she love Senator Peter Gerry? She felt quite certain she did. She loved his political views. And his social graces. She loved how he loved her, how he leaned on her and valued her opinion. The other men she had dated since the death of George—Governor Morrison, General Pershing, General Carr—certainly noticed that she was a political and financial asset, despite large fortunes of their own. But they didn’t value her opinion. Not really. Peter, on the other hand, was her true equal in every sense of the word, and he praised her for her finely tuned intellect and political instincts, for the way she could relate to women from all backgrounds. If that wasn’t love—at least the type she wanted in her second marriage—she wasn’t sure what was.
Cornelia laughed. “Well, this is quite a surprise.” She paused. “But you know how I’ve always loved Peter.” Cornelia had known the senator for years, a fact that Edith hoped would help ease this transition for her daughter.
She nodded. “The wedding won’t be for a little while. So please, please don’t breathe a word of it. We’re planning to do it in London, out of the eyes of the press, with just our families and close friends.” Edith looked her daughter in the eye, her nerves catching up to her. “I need you there, Nell. Please say you’ll be there.”