“What’s that?” Anita asked as I took the small box from the jewelry case.
“Antique earrings my father gave me. What do you think of them?” I asked, trying them on. “Do they look too much like old lady earrings? Or will I fit right in with all the snots at finishing school?”
“Oh, I think they’re beautiful. And your father gave them to you. You should wear them, Cruella, you really should,” she said, handing the box back to me and looking sad. Dear, sweet Anita. Always so loving, so caring and sentimental. “You know I almost wore them to Papa’s funeral. I had honestly almost forgotten about them until that day, but I couldn’t bring myself to put them on.”
“Why, Cruella?”
“I don’t know, I had the strangest feeling while I was holding them. An odd feeling of foreboding, like I would never be happy again. And then I remembered my papa’s story about the earrings. That they were cursed.” A chill ran down my neck, and the fine hair on my arm stood on end. Anita swallowed, nervous.
“You don’t really believe they’re cursed, do you? I’m sure you were just sad about your father passing away. I think you should bring them with you and wear them at school. It will be a lovely way to remember him.” Anita was so sweet that I felt the chill vanish, and the room was filled with warmth again.
“You’re right. I’m being silly. I’m going to put them on right now.” But when I brought them to my ears, it happened again. That feeling of doom. I couldn’t shake it.
“Cruella, are you okay?” Anita asked. I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know. Perhaps it was nerves. Everything in my life was on the verge of changing.
“Are you nervous about leaving home? Nervous about seeing your mother tomorrow?” Anita asked. I honestly couldn’t say. But the strange feeling stayed with me for the rest of the evening. It invaded my sleep, filling my dreams with pirates, otherworldly magical lands, and a dark forest filled with glowing candles.
By the next morning my trunks were packed, and they were sitting beside Anita’s and Miss Pricket’s, piled high in the entryway at the foot of the grand staircase. I was so happy that Anita would be traveling with me to school, and Miss Pricket was to accompany us for the entire journey to see us settled. She would stay for a fortnight before returning back to London.
All of us were antsy as we waited for my mother to arrive. “We will have to leave soon, Miss Cruella. We don’t want to miss our train,” Miss Pricket said, as if I wasn’t already aware. I certainly wouldn’t miss her flair for stating the obvious. Jackson cleared his throat and tapped on the glass face of his pocket watch to say he agreed. I was honestly rather anxious to see my mother, and all of Miss Pricket’s and Jackson’s fidgeting was driving me mad. I turned to Anita.
“Anita, how do I look?” She smiled, and some of my nerves melted.
“You look beautiful, Cruella, as always.” I wanted to look perfect for Mama. I had put on one of my best traveling dresses in her favorite color, dusty rose, and wore the jade earrings Papa had given me. I couldn’t believe I was going to see her after all this time. And right before I had to leave for school.
“Oh, I see a car now. That must be her,” Jackson said, going out to greet my mother. But when he returned, she wasn’t with him. Instead, a legion of footmen trailed behind him, all carrying boxes. The footmen piled the boxes on the round table in the center of the entryway, crowding the vase of flowers that sat in its usual place. Jackson motioned to one of the maids standing nearby to help the footmen with the boxes that threatened to topple over. “Paulie, help the footman with those packages if you will?” I blinked. And in that moment, I knew. She wasn’t coming.
“Miss Cruella, these packages all have your name on them,” Paulie said. “I will pack them up for you and have them sent along so you can open them at school. But it seems your mother was eager for you to take this one along on your journey,” she said, handing me a rather large white box with a red bow. Paulie steadied the box while I removed the lid, exposing the most magnificent fur coat I had ever seen. It was long and white with a black collar, just like the one she had given me when I was a little girl, but somehow even more lovely. In the box was a small square note card that simply read:
Distinguish yourself.
“Oh, Cruella, it’s lovely,” said Anita, with no hint of jealousy or sadness like Miss Pricket usually displayed.
“Miss Cruella,” Miss Pricket said, in a tone that, for the first time, was obvious in its disdain for my mother. “You won’t need that at school. Let’s leave it here where it will be safe.” I rarely pulled rank with Miss Pricket—she was, after all, my governess, and I was in her charge—not to mention, I trusted her. But something in me shifted quite suddenly, and I heard my voice snap: “My mother would like me to take it along, and I am going to take it.”
“Miss Cruella, none of the other girls will bring along such fine things,” she said, more gently this time, but it was too late. I had heard her scorn. I knew how she felt about Mama. And I knew she was wrong.
I simply handed her the note Mama had included in the box, reminding her of what it said. “My mama says I’m to distinguish myself,” I said as Jackson helped me on with my coat. “And I plan to, with style!” I walked out the door, ready to embark on our grand excursion. I felt brave and proud. I was distinguishing myself. Just like my mother.
At first school was everything Anita and I wanted it to be. Our academy was a converted mansion, brick covered with ivy, you know the sort. It had that awe-inspiring architecture one expects to find nestled away in the country, surrounded by rolling hills, groves of trees, and a lavish park on the school grounds. It was really quite beautiful.
Anita, of course, gravitated to subjects like poetry, classic literature, and mythology, while I enjoyed learning about social ranks and the titles that went along with them. Both of us loved our classes in music and painting, but I detested French lessons, while Anita seemed to enjoy them, having proven herself quite good at them in my schoolroom back home. But what we both loved most were our daily walks around the grounds through the park. It was our time to talk about our day, to gossip about the other girls and our instructors.
Anita genuinely liked being outdoors. She could sit for hours just looking at the trees, or the leaves floating down the creek we happened upon on one of our walks. And she loved watching the birds and squirrels. I honestly couldn’t give a damn about nature; I just liked getting away from everyone. I couldn’t stand being locked up with all those simpering, foolish girls, talking of nothing but when they would be entered into society and eventually married. That seemed to be their singular focus: finding the richest, most well-connected man and marrying him.
Within the first few days of my arrival, I realized young women in my social circle went to school not to better themselves, not to learn something of the world, not to have an adventure—but to find a husband. Or at least that was the objective of all the young women Anita and I went to school with. It was likely they would snare husbands right after they were entered into society, and I supposed their education would teach them enough that they could have intelligent conversations in their drawing rooms with their guests. But they would never be permitted to sit with the men after dinner and have the real conversations. The real conversations were reserved for the men. They got to talk about what was going on in the world, the places they traveled, and the books they’d read. We ladies got to speak of the weather and which fork went where in a dinner setting. The more time I spent at Miss Upturn’s Academy for Young Ladies, the more I realized it was absolutely bursting with simpleminded girls who were all relentlessly mercenary in the pursuit of their happily ever after.
I became even more convinced that this wasn’t the life for me.
It wasn’t the life I wanted. I wanted something more. I wanted freedom. I didn’t want to be tied down to a household or a husband. I wanted to do what I pleased, whenever I wanted. And I didn’t see that happening with a husband. Not unless I found someone truly unique and remarkable, like my papa. And I doubted that would ever happen. Besides, unlike many of the girls I went to school with, I didn’t need to marry. I had my father’s money. I had the De Vil name. And I had the most engaging companion I could ever want in Anita.
Despite my unconventional id
eas about my future and how much I detested the other students, I really did love every moment of my education. We were to be made into accomplished ladies. We were taught how to direct a conversation at dinner: how to steer it in another direction if the talk became unsuitable or awkward, how to avoid speaking directly on any subject that was of a personal or sensitive nature, and most important, the virtues of speaking indirectly while making our point clear. I may not have wanted to get married, but I did want to learn how to conduct myself with decorum. I wanted to make my mama proud. And about halfway through our first semester, I learned I was going to have the opportunity. My mama was coming to visit me that day for my birthday. I hadn’t seen her since my father died.
“Anita, I’m a little nervous about seeing my mama.” It was Saturday, and we were sitting in the garden, taking advantage of a rare sunny afternoon. We had spread out a blanket, and Anita had arranged some little sandwiches and cakes for us to enjoy in the sunshine. Her little birthday gift to me.
“What are you two going to do later? When is she arriving?” she asked.