his return, Frédéric continued to pursue his interests. He frequented literary circles and developed close friendships with Marcel Proust, Maurice Barrès, and Anna de Noailles. He also became romantically involved with an American girl. On March 31, 1918, the New York Times reported his engagement to a twenty-three-year-old nurse from New Jersey by the name of Ruth Fiske, whom he had met during his stay at the Astoria Hospital in Paris. After much pressure from his mother, who believed that a “mere” nurse was an unsuitable bride for the viscount, he was persuaded to call off the engagement. Moya de Janzé had clear ambitions for her son. She wanted him to marry well, preferably a wealthy heiress who could help restore the de Janzés’ crumbling estate and fortunes.
Moya liked Alice from their first meeting, not only for her money but also for her style and liveliness. An immediate bond was formed between these two women who spoke the same language and came from the same part of the world. Moya vigorously encouraged Frédéric’s courtship of Alice Silverthorne, although it was doubtful that he needed too much persuasion. Frédéric was already smitten with the beautiful American heiress. Alice’s enthusiasm for the count was more muted, but she was intrigued. Frédéric was likable, shy, and unassuming but also clever and charming. The new couple complemented each other. She was the poor little rich girl from Chicago; he was the elegant, sophisticated aristocrat from Europe. He was timid; she was bold. She lacked constancy; he provided stability. Both parties were aware that the outside world deemed this to be a “good match.” He would bring aristocratic credibility to the marriage, while she would provide him with her considerable wealth. But although there was a degree of affinity between the two—and certainly a good deal of eagerness on the part of Frédéric—it seems passion was never a major feature in their relationship. They were, from the beginning, excellent friends.
With Moya's encouragement, Frédéric pursued Alice in earnest. He escorted her to restaurants and nightclubs. He introduced her to members of his aristocratic and literary French set and met her wealthy American expatriate crowd in return. During the summer of 1921, Alice accepted an invitation by her old friends from Chicago, the Spauldings, to go on a motoring tour in the south of France. By the time they had reached Biarritz a fortnight later, Frédéric was waiting there with a marriage proposal. Alice accepted and wired Aunt Tattie in Chicago with the news. Alice’s aunt was delighted. Like Moya, she agreed that Frédéric and Alice were an excellent match, evidently approving of the count’s aristocratic credentials. The engagement was announced on August 10, 1921, in the Chicago Daily Tribune. “Interest in the announcement is not lessened by the fact that it has been expected daily,” it reported, “rumors of the young Viscomte’s attachment to Miss Silverthorne having reached Chicago society some time ago.”
Aunt Tattie hurried to arrange the wedding, which she insisted should take place in Chicago. For her part, Alice was stipulating that she wanted to be married by the end of September, in only a few weeks’ time. It appears that Alice’s haste to marry had less to do with her eagerness to become the countess de Janzé and more to do with her fear that she would change her mind. On the one hand, she wanted to marry Frédéric, as this was her chance to escape from Aunt Tattie and her family. On the other hand, she wasn’t in love with Frédéric and she knew it. It is possible that Alice’s reaction also had to do with fear of her wedding night. She was almost certainly a virgin—young girls of Alice’s background and upbringing were allowed to be flirtatious and sexy to the point where kissing and heavy petting were permitted, but it went no further. Virginity was prized and essential for marriage, which meant
Jon Land, Robert Fitzpatrick