CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SEPTEMBER 1869
When we arrived at Mr. Vanderbilt’s mansion for work, an unfamiliar face greeted us. Instead of Harold, a tall, imposing woman with her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun surveyed us with assessing black eyes.
“You must be the assistants.” She stepped back so we could enter.
We had barely crossed the threshold when William was upon us. “May I present Mrs. Frank Armstrong Crawford Vanderbilt, my father’s new wife?” The last part was punctuated with a smug, pointed look in Tennie’s direction.
Frank? What an odd name for a woman. Wait, did he say wife?
“Wife?” Tennie echoed my thoughts, hand going to her mouth. Her shock had slipped out with the word.
The new Mrs. Vanderbilt gave us a thin smile. “Yes, we were married some weeks ago, but I was only n
