Woman of the Month - Chapter 4

4. Penelope Rockervilt

The luxurious mansion adorned with white marble and pink agate was filled with the sweet scent of liquor and flowers. It emanated from two fountains placed in the center of the indoor garden. From the giant fountains, as wide as the span of an adult man’s outstretched arms, champagne and rosewater poured endlessly.

“Penelope!”

A lady, leaning her upper body over the railing of the second floor, shouted shrilly at Penelope, who had just entered the front hall. Servants and maids, dressed in uniforms, bustled across the hallway connecting the entrance to the garden and the banquet hall.

Penelope Rockervilt calmed the nausea rising from the artificial fragrances and looked up. She raised her head to greet her mother, Brianna Rockervilt, who was looking down at her like a goddess.

“Mother.”

Brianna quickly descended the stairs and stood before Penelope. A pair of eyes, unable to hide their discontent, scanned Penelope from head to toe.

“Have you forgotten what day it is today?”

“…I know.”

Today was the birthday of Penelope’s stepbrother, Phineas Rockervilt, who was not related to her by blood. Penelope had just traveled from Forkin to Newport, a two-hour carriage ride, to celebrate his birth.

Her mother, Brianna, came from an unremarkable family. After marrying young and losing her husband, she raised Penelope alone until her stunning beauty caught the eye of Marcus Rockervilt, a newly rich businessman from Newport, and she successfully remarried—an impressive, self-made achievement in itself.

Marcus Rockervilt was a bloodless and tearless financier, often referred to as a “robber” for his ruthless business methods. This gave Marcus many enemies.

His financial company, Rockervilt Trust, claimed to deal in legal stock trading and trust management. However, everyone in Newport knew that Marcus Rockervilt had built his fortune through loan sharking. Society had no affection for a nouveau riche who had no noble roots and accumulated wealth through moneylending.

The “true” upper class, who had lived together in Newport’s elite residential areas for generations, despised and abhorred the rising wealthy. They openly expressed their unwillingness to associate with such people.

This only made Brianna Rockervilt more desperate to be accepted among them. To the eyes of old-world aristocrats with centuries or even millennia of history, the so-called upper class of the New World seemed laughably pathetic. However, at least within Virginia, they held a tight grip on power.

Armed with beauty, money, and persistence, Brianna attended every bazaar or charity event hosted by the upper class, carrying massive donations. While her hefty checks were welcomed, Brianna herself, and the Rockervilt family, were often ignored.

After repeated snubs, Brianna decided to purchase a house on the northern part of 5th Avenue, where Newport’s elite clustered together. It was a strong declaration of her determination to become part of the upper class. She persuaded her husband to buy what is now called Rockervilt Mansion, a luxurious house.

The mansion’s original owner had been a member of the “true” upper class who had declared bankruptcy, pushed out by the nouveau riche. Though he had initially refused to sell to such “vulgar” people, upon seeing the check Marcus Rockervilt offered—an amount more than triple the market price—he handed over the deed without protest.

As a result, the elegant and sophisticated three-story limestone mansion, located between 5th Avenue and 70th Street, became the property of the Rockervilt family. For their neighbors, it was nothing short of a catastrophe.

The highlight of the Rockervilt Mansion, modeled after an Italinean palazzo, was its indoor garden on the first floor. The ceiling was covered in glass, maximizing natural light and warmth, creating a stunning space perfect for tea time or small gatherings.

The problem was that while Brianna Rockervilt had the money, time, and labor to host tea parties or small gatherings, there were no “guests” willing to attend. Despite throwing vast sums of money to enter high society, all she received was the scorn of her neighbors.

Nevertheless, Brianna obsessively continued to host banquets. Her new targets were not the rigid older generation but their children. Brianna decided to take advantage of the curiosity and adaptability of young people.

Her strategy proved correct. Children were often tired of their parents’ stubbornness, and the upper class was no different. They began to accept Brianna’s invitations, sneaking into Rockervilt Mansion without their families’ knowledge.

Phineas Rockervilt’s birthday celebration banquet carried the same purpose. Brianna had practically begged her stepson, who was attending university in Boston, to return to Newport. By fostering connections with the right families, she hoped to set Phineas on a path into the upper class.

In addition, Brianna was also determined to arrange Penelope’s marriage. Recently turning twenty-one, Penelope Rockervilt was a young lady with stunning beauty inherited from her mother. Brianna’s ideal outcome was for Penelope to captivate a suitable upper-class heir at Phineas’s banquet and secure a marriage.

“I knew it.”

Brianna sighed as she glared at Penelope’s plain black dress. She couldn’t stand seeing her daughter wear something so drab, like mourning clothes, on such a day.

“I prepared a dress for you in your room. Mamie, change her clothes and fix her hair.”

Brianna pointed to the second floor as she gave her orders. Mamie, who had been hovering nearby, hurried up the stairs with heavy steps.

“…Yes.”

This time, it was Penelope who sighed. The clothes she was wearing were her school uniform. Like Phineas, Penelope had been dragged to Newport immediately after class, giving in to Brianna’s persistent nagging.

Penelope Rockervilt was a student at Bashir Women’s College in Forkin. Unlike Ingrint, it was common in Virginia for daughters of the upper class to attend university. In Virginia’s high society, women with culture and education were considered the most desirable brides.

On the surface, this emphasized culture and education, but in reality, it meant little more than acquiring a degree. Daughters of prestigious families studied just enough to avoid failing. Academic rigor was left to the poor commoner girls who earned scholarships.

Penelope Rockervilt, who belonged neither to a prestigious family nor to the scholarship-receiving poor, stood out at Bashir Women’s College as she did in Newport. Her family’s ambiguous social standing aside, she was also a relentless academic who never let go of her top ranking.

Brianna did not like Penelope’s dedication to school. She wanted her daughter to get a degree and focus on social activities instead. The significant difference in their values created constant tension between the mother and daughter.

“Penelope, it’s been a while.”

As Penelope ascended the stairs, someone approached her. It was Phineas Rockervilt.

“Phineas.”

Penelope replied to his greeting with feigned composure.

Phineas Rockervilt was a complete scoundrel, undeserving of even faint praise. He had been a mess of a person even when he was in Newport, but after entering a university in Boston thanks to Marcus’s donations, his descent into depravity only accelerated.

Whenever trouble arose, Marcus and Brianna would resolve it with their endless wealth. Thanks to the hush money they poured in, few knew about Phineas Rockervilt’s reckless behavior.

Penelope had one more reason to despise Phineas.

“You’re getting prettier by the day.”

It was the hungry gaze Phineas directed at her, as if she were an appetizing meal. As Penelope’s beauty had blossomed, Phineas had begun lingering around her, constantly throwing flirtatious remarks.

Legally, they were family, but they had no blood ties. Phineas Rockervilt, a master of self-rationalization, believed that there was no taboo in pursuing a relationship with Penelope.

She couldn’t reveal this to anyone. Unlike the other students who returned to their families in Newport every weekend to enjoy parties, Penelope remained buried in her studies in Forkin—partly to stay far away from Phineas.

“Thank you.”

Penelope suppressed the urge to punch Phineas in the face as he licked his lips, staring at her. Instead, she turned away with a grimace.