Free House of Thieves by Charles Belfoure

with great care. For Julia to have the highest value on the society matrimonial market, even the tiniest hint of scandal must be avoided. The girl is lucky to have Aunt Caroline to give her counsel , Helen thought. Caroline would help Julia avoid the misfortune of her own daughter’s poor decisions.
    Emily, Caroline’s eldest, had fallen in love with James Van Alen, heir to millions from investments in the Illinois Central Railroad. An eccentric Anglophile who pretended to speak with an English accent, Van Alen was dubbed totally unsuitable by the Astors. William Backhouse Astor II, Caroline’s husband, publicly stated that they would have nothing to do with the Van Alens. The groom’s father, a Civil War general, challenged Astor to a duel; Astor backed out and apologized. The marriage took place, and the unhappiness began. After a succession of long, empty years, Emily died in 1881 while giving birth to her third child.
    Caroline’s own marriage, Helen knew, was an elaborate facade. Astor was content to let her spend his millions, but he’d pushed her out of his life long ago. He carried on with prostitutes and showgirls on his yacht, the aptly named Light of the Harem . Caroline, a master of ignoring unpleasant matters, pretended he was a loving and devoted husband but went to great lengths to keep him from her balls and dinners.
    Her own marriage, Helen had to admit, followed similar rules.
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    As she often did when entering her bedroom, Julia got a running start and flopped onto her bed. This time, she let out a loud yelp. The corset jammed up under her newly full breasts, and the bustle rammed into the lower part of her back. Immediately, she jumped up again.
    Sadness came over her in a wave. The adult way of dressing, she realized, ruled out relaxing and playing. She couldn’t slide down the banister in this thing. Julia perched awkwardly at her rolltop desk, the corset forcing her to sit ramrod straight, the bustle keeping her at the edge of the seat. But her new posture didn’t deter her from commencing her daily two hours of writing. She was working on a novel, a tale of love and adventure very much influenced by the work of Sir Walter Scott.
    Julia was glad her parents hadn’t listened to Granny and had her tutored at home. To their credit, they both wanted her to attend a day school—the elite and expensive Miss Spence’s, where she could make friends with girls from her own class and get a first-rate education. There, she discovered her passion for literature and writing. In Granny’s prehistoric world, too much education was dangerous; ladies only needed “ornamental knowledge” to win a husband. To placate Granny, Helen made sure Julia had lessons in painting, sketching, needlework, piano, and, most importantly, dancing. Now that she was coming out, the latter skill was essential.
    There were other lessons too. Since all the men of her class were mad about horses and especially about racing, Julia had the requisite equestrian training from an early age. She went riding in Central Park—always sidesaddle, never astride—at least two times a week. Because her family spent every summer in Newport and the Berkshires, expertise in archery, lawn tennis, and croquet was also required. A girl should be proficient—but never good enough to beat a man.
    In the past month, Julia had begun rigorous schooling in the intricate rules of etiquette. A dinner never starts earlier than nine, she was told. Sherry is always cooled but not red wine. Don’t let two brown or white sauces follow each other in succession. Then there was the strict code of behavior. Two essential rules had been drilled into her: restrain all emotional outbursts in public, and any hint of scandal means disaster, for once a girl is talked about, she’s done. Break these and it meant social extinction, Granny and her mother preached.
    An eager student, Julia loved