The COLONY CLUB
From New York Times bestselling author Shelley Noble comes a thrilling historical novel about the inception of the Colony Club, the first women’s club of its kind, set against the dazzling backdrop of Gilded Age New York.
When young Gilded Age society matron Daisy Harriman is refused a room at the Waldorf because they don’t cater to unaccompanied females, she takes matters into her own hands. She establishes the Colony Club, the first women’s club in Manhattan, where visiting women can stay overnight and dine with their friends; where they can discuss new ideas, take on social issues, and make their voices heard. She hires the most sought-after architect in New York, Stanford White, to design the clubhouse.
As “the best dressed actress on the Rialto” Elsie de Wolfe has an eye for décor, but her career is stagnating. So when White asks her to design the clubhouse interiors, she jumps at the chance and the opportunity to add a woman’s touch. He promises to send her an assistant, a young woman he’s hired as a draftsman.
Raised in the Lower East Side tenements, Nora Bromely is determined to become an architect in spite of hostility and sabotage from her male colleagues. She is disappointed and angry when White “foists” her off on this new women’s club project.
But when White is murdered and the ensuing Trial of the Century discloses the architect’s scandalous personal life, fearful backers begin to withdraw their support. It’s questionable whether the club will survive long enough to open.
Daisy, Elsie, and Nora have nothing in common but their determination to carry on. But to do so, they must overcome not only society’s mores but their own prejudices about women, wealth, and each other. Together they strive to transform Daisy’s dream of the Colony Club into a reality, a place that will nurture social justice and ensure the work of the women who earned the nickname “Mink Brigade” far into the future.
"With The Colony Club, Shelley Noble has given us a trio of trailblazing heroines. Daisy’s dream, Elsie’s vision, and Nora’s determination combine in a dazzling story about the creation and construction of the first social club for women. In these uncertain times, this book is a reminder that we stand on the broad shoulders of those courageous women who have gone before us."
~Alix Rickloff, author of The Last Light over Oslo
"This is the ultimate female empowerment story. Shelley Noble has unearthed a delicious sliver of history that will delight her readers. Fashioned after the exclusive men’s clubs of the day, The Colony Club explores the formation of the first women’s social club in Manhattan during the Gilded Age. Despite commissioning the project to the celebrated architect, Stanford White (later involved in the Murder of the Century), it’s the women who triumph and make this dream a reality. Noble’s cast of iron-willed heroines take up the charge with astounding passion and determination that shines on every page."
~Renee Rosen, USA Today Bestselling Author of Fifth Avenue Glamour Girl
"The Colony Club is an inspiring, powerful tribute to the Gilded Age women who broke through barriers to create their own place in the world. This impeccably researched story features real events and people in history, spotlighting the amazing feats women can accomplish when they support each other."
~Madeline Martin, New York Times bestselling author of The Keeper of Hidden Books
“Noble’s latest, The Colony Club, is a well-researched novel full of fascinating and empowering characters. Through the eyes of three female protagonists, the Gilded Age of New York comes alive in the creation of the famous women’s only Colony Club. A powerful reminder that when women work together, they can not only achieve great things, but smash through barriers. A delightful read. Well done!”
~Eliza Knight, USA Today and international bestselling author of THE QUEEN’S FAITHFUL COMPANION
“A fascinating look into the history and personalities behind the Colony Club—the first women’s club of its kind. Noble skillfully brings her characters and setting to life, spinning a tale that is both poignant and startlingly relevant. She shines a light on three women and their achievements who should be better known. Simply enthralling.”
~Anna Lee Huber, USA Today bestselling author
April 18, 1963
“It’s such an honor to meet you, Mrs. Harriman.”
Daisy Harriman roused herself from her usual afternoon bask in the sun and reluctantly turned from the window. She loved this room overlooking the garden and filled with sunlight. The sun was kind to old bones, and hers had been around for a good ninety-two years.
She smiled across at the eager young journalist who sat perched on the edge of the chintz armchair, her notepad and pencil held at the ready, part Emily Post, part Jacob Riis. So enthusiastic, so energetic and determined. And for a moment, Daisy was that young woman, with all the world before her. But that was behind her now. Daisy and other like-minded women had forced their way into their rightful place in the twentieth century. A new generation would carry on from here.
“How does it feel to be the first-ever recipient of President Kennedy’s Citation of Merit award?”
They both looked at the wall where the framed certificate hung in a place of honor. Citation of Merit for Distinguished Service to Florence Jaffray Hurst Harriman. Daisy was proud to have done her small part. Bordie would have been amused, and proud, but neither her husband nor her daughter, Ethel, had lived to see it. She was quite alone now.
And yet never quite alone: she had been one of many and they were still with her in spirit, if not in life. No, never quite alone.
“You’ve had such an astounding career,” the journalist, whose name was Meg, continued. “Social reformer, union organizer, politician, diplomat. And to think that you began accomplishing all these things before women even had the right to vote.”
She made it sound like ancient history, Daisy thought, and yet it seemed not so long ago when she and the ladies of the Colony Club first marched in support of the women garment workers, fought for the purity of food, for decent housing for the poor—for the right to vote. Her stint as Minister to Norway under Roosevelt during the war that changed the world seemed like yesterday.
“You were a young society matron living comfortably in New York City. You could so easily have been content with that life, donating to various causes from the comfort of your home. And yet you chose to lead. You took to the streets to protest the inequities of society. Risked your reputation and your physical safety to inaugurate change. You even barely escaped the German occupation of Norway with your life when you were minister there.
“You have served as an inspiration to so many. Can you tell me . . .”
“Yes?”
“What inspired you to step out of your secure life and throw yourself into the causes that would change the landscape of American culture forever?”
Daisy chuckled. “Oh, dear, did I do all that? Well, if you must know, it all began one summer, when I couldn’t get a room at the Waldorf . . .”
August 1902
Newport, Rhode Island
Florence Jaffray Hurst Harriman swept into the drawing room, the lace underskirt of her trumpet skirt swishing ominously. “It’s absolutely outrageous,” she announced, coming to a stop equidistant between the two wing chairs where her husband, Borden Harriman, and their friend, Charles MacDonald, who was visiting Newport,for the month, were both nose deep in their respective evening papers.
Bordie was the first to look up. He smiled indulgently at his wife.
Daisy recognized that look, but at the moment she was in no mood to be indulged. “You’d think we were living in the Middle Ages and not 1902,” she continued, since neither one of the men seemed inclined to ask her what she was upset about. “It’s the twentieth century, for heaven’s sake.”
“What is it, my dear?” Bordie asked.
“I need to go down to the city for a day or two to run a few errands that I didn’t have time to do before we left for Newport, and since the townhouse is being renovated, I don’t have any place to stay. I just had Miss Gleason call the Waldorf to reserve a room and they refused her. Even though she told them it was for me. The concierge said they did not cater to unaccompanied ladies, no matter who they were. The very idea. I have a good mind—”
Bordie broke in before she could continue. “Well, why don’t you stay with one of your friends? I’m sure Anne Morgan would be glad to have you. Maybe the both of you could travel down and have a nice afternoon of shopping and errands and such and stay at her house overnight.”
“Anne is on the Continent and everyone else is in Newport.”
“Have Bordie drive you down,” Charles suggested. “You can both stay at the Waldorf.”
Bordie put down his paper. “I have no intention of returning to Manhattan; I just arrived in Newport yesterday evening. And I’m certainly not staying at the Waldorf or any other hotel if I can possibly help it.”
Daisy huffed out her exasperation. “That’s because you don’t have to. You can stay at the Union Club, or the Princeton Club, or any of your many clubs and be as comfortable as if you were in your own home, which, I might remind you, is covered in tarps, construction dust, and heaven knows what else.”
“She’s got you there,” added Charles, earning him a sour look from Bordie.
“I suppose I could stay at the YMCA, but Miss Gleason might balk. Private secretaries do not stay at the Y.”
“And neither do the of wives of bankers,” Bordie retorted.
“If I had a club to go to, which I don’t, I’d certainly stay—” She broke off. “Oh, Bordie, you’re a genius.”
Bordie, who had just returned to his paper, put it down again. “I shudder to think . . .” he began.
“A club,” Daisy exclaimed. “Women should have a club of their own. Just like the men do. A place where we can stay overnight, have parcels delivered, write letters, make telephone calls, enjoy dinner . . . that’s exactly what we need. How clever of you to suggest it.
“I think I’ll telephone Kate Brice; I bet she’ll be interested. Hmm, and Alva Belmont. And Maud Bull, and Emmie . . .”
Brodie laughed “That’s quite a bevy for an afternoon of errands.”
“Sounds more like a tea party,” Charles agreed.
“Oh, no,” Daisy said. “Not a party, a meeting. We’re going to establish a women’s club. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.” Daisy whisked out of the room, calling for her secretary and leaving the two men, their papers forgotten, staring after her and no doubt wondering what on earth Daisy was up to now.
