A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Fifteen
Christmas, 1912
An air of excitement permeated every corner of
the Scott mansion. Family members snuck in side doors of the house bearing
mysterious packages and wearing secretive smiles. Arnolde was in top form,
preparing all his best dishes; delectable odors drifted all the way up to the
attic, where Rose would smell them late into the evening and her mouth would
water.
The Rockefellers were coming.
For the third year in a row, the Scotts were
hosting a Christmas formal. They'd invited about sixty members of their
extended family and Westchester County society to the event, which would take
place at 5 p.m. Saturday, Dec. 21. It promised to be a festive occasion, with a
six-course banquet, dancing, games in the playroom for the children and a gift
for every guest. The evening would conclude with a piano recital by none other
than William Scott III.
Some time earlier, when the Scotts learned
that the Rockefeller family was building an estate in the area, they rushed to
make their acquaintance. Much to everyone's surprise, their RSVP arrived a week
before the party, confirming that John D. Rockefeller, Jr. and his wife, Abby,
would be attending.
Therefore, this year's gala had to be better
than the two before it combined.
Assistant chefs were hired for Arnolde to
supervise in the kitchen, while wait staff set ten tables in the great room
with the family's best imported china. A small army of maids scrubbed floors
and windows and polished furniture. Groundskeepers tied red and gold bows
around the stately oaks that lined the driveway. Randolph was dispatched to New
York in the Model T to fetch Richard and Lucille Hammond, Victoria's parents;
they would be staying for a week in the guest bedroom--the first time it would
be used since Rose arrived.
Bridie was home for the holidays and wouldn't
be back until the New Year. The Scotts still had not hired a nanny, and, as
none of the other maids knew the children, they left Rose to mind them once
again. During the preparations, they were confined to the basement playroom,
where they would presumably stay out of trouble.
There were two Christmas trees in the house.
One was the "official" tree in the great room. On strict orders to
avoid any gauche decorations, the staff had gone to lengths to ensure that the
candy canes did not overwhelm the tiny silver bells in its branches, and so
forth. Stockings bearing the names of all the family members hung on the
fireplace mantle. The room looked inviting, yet dignified, like a greeting
card.
The other tree was in the playroom. The
children were allowed to have a go at that one. As of three o'clock Saturday,
they still were.
William III had long ago abandoned the
basement to make sure the piano was tuned. Lucy and two friends from boarding
school who'd been allowed to visit for the weekend sat giggling amongst
themselves in a corner, while Richard and Josephine piled on the tinsel.
"Eh...don't you think that's
enough?" Rose asked, taking in the tree with a critical eye. The small
pine, freshly cut from the Scotts' own property, had begun to bow under the
weight of all the toys the children had hung, which were now snowed under with
tinsel.
"Not yet," said Richard. "I
still have to put up all my toy soldiers."
"Don't forget my teddy bear,"
Josephine chimed in.
"Well, where are they?" Rose asked,
impatiently. "It's getting late. You have to have your baths and get
dressed soon."
Richard groaned. "Why do we have to get
dressed up? Nobody's gonna pay attention to us, anyway."
There was a burst of laughter from Lucy's
corner that resembled a crow's caw. Rose threw an annoyed glance in that
direction. She was already developing a headache.
"Tonight's very important to your mother
and father and brother," she snapped at Richard. "Do you want to
embarrass them?"
"He always embarrasses us," Lucy
said.
"I do not! You're the one who's always
trying to get somebody to look at you." Richard fluttered his eyelashes at
an imaginary gentleman. "Oh, my goodness," he squealed in a falsetto,
"I think I just dropped my hankie. Could you please bend over and pick it
up for me?"
Josephine and Lucy's friends couldn't help
but laugh at Richard's exaggerated gestures; even Rose found it hard to keep a
straight face. Lucy turned crimson and jumped to her feet.
"You be quiet, Richard! Be quiet or
I'll--"
At this point, Skipper, who'd been watching
the children with indifference, sensed an attack on his owner and growled. Lucy
was the only person the dog disliked.
"Bite her, Skipper, bite her!"
Richard goaded the dog. Skipper only looked at him blankly.
"See that! Stupid mongrel."
"You're stupid!"
"All right, all right!" Rose interrupted.
"It's time for you to go upstairs and get ready. All of you, now!"
"But we didn't hang my teddy bear on the
tree." Josephine whined. She was swinging the stuffed animal by a string
sewn into its head. It looked too large and clumsy to be a decoration. "Or
the angel on top."
"We'll have to do that later."
In response, Josephine threw the bear at
Rose.
"Josie!" A sudden yelp from Skipper
distracted Rose. Lucy had slapped her little brother and the two were in
hand-to-hand combat. Lucy's schoolmates stood by and watched as Rose pulled her
and Richard apart.
"Look what he did to my dress!"
Lucy screamed. "Make him apologize!"
Just then, there was a resounding crash as
the Christmas tree toppled over. A sheepish Josephine stood off to the side.
Rose looked down and saw the oversized teddy bear tangled in the lower
branches.
"I'VE HAD IT!" Rose yelled.
Josephine, eyes big as saucers, scooted under a toy table set for tea.
"All of you, SHUT UP and listen to me! Go upstairs RIGHT NOW and get
ready, or I'll ask permission from your parents to keep you locked down here
all night. Do you understand?"
She glared at each child, including Lucy's
friends; each nodded silently in turn.
"Lucy, tell your mother about the tree,
and then help your sister get undressed. I'll be upstairs as soon as I
straighten up this mess." Lucy started to protest, but one look at Rose's
face and she clammed up. But Rose knew she'd report to her mother how the maid
had stepped out of line with them.
Hours later the guests, sated with duck a
l'orange and champagne, weary from waltzing and gossip mongering, settled at
the banquet tables to hear young William perform. Programs had been distributed
in anticipation. While no prodigy, the young man's talent on the piano was
well-known and respected by most of those in attendance.
He stepped onto the platform in bow tie and
tails to a polite round of applause. He bowed first to his parents and
grandparents at the head table, then to the Rockefellers at their place of
honor, and finally to the audience as a whole. Rose stood in a doorway among a
handful of waitresses ready to refill a glass or serve seconds of the plum
pudding. Just before he took his seat, William caught her eyes and unexpectedly
gave her a wide smile.
"Good evening, and Merry Christmas,"
he greeted the guests. "Welcome to our home. My first selection will be
"Flight of the Bumblebee."
His fingers glided over the keys with
dexterity and self-assurance throughout the difficult composition. As he drew
to a close, his audience was enraptured. The applause was nearly deafening.
When the clapping died down, a beaming
William said, "I know the next few pieces are not on the program for
tonight, but I thought that, with this being the holiday season, who wants to
hear somber concertos? Ladies and gentlemen, I give you "The
Entertainer."
And he launched into a series of ragtime
tunes.
The guests were unsure of how to react. Many,
including the children and Mr. Rockefeller himself, smiled and tapped their
feet along with the beat. Others--most of them older than the Scotts--looked
shocked and scandalized, and whispered among themselves. Rose was enjoying the
performance, but when she dared a glance at William's parents, the smile
disappeared from her face. His father's expression was stormy, as if he would
put a stop to the recital any minute. Beside him, Victoria seemed to have just
discovered her glass of champagne, while her father watched his grandson's
performance in confusion. Only Mrs. Hammond, Victoria's mother, looked as
though she enjoyed the music, but then again, she'd had her first drink upon
arrival and hadn't stopped since.
"Now most of you will recognize this
tune and I encourage you to sing along," William announced after the
fourth song.
The song was Irving Berlin's "Alexander's
Ragtime Band."
Rose blanched.
For one horrible moment, her mind's eye
flashed back to the night of April 14th, to the grand staircase on the Titanic,
where she grabbed Thomas Andrews and demanded to know just how serious the
situation was. And he told her. In the background, stalwart musicians played
"Alexander's Ragtime Band" to calm the passengers.
Rose turned and pushed her was through the
wait staff, the sound of the piano ringing in her ears. She ran all the way
upstairs, not caring if her choked cries disturbed Belinda, who'd put Cecilia
to bed.
No one took notice of her departure but
William.