Page 73 of Save Me

Everyone claps after Lexington’s speech, and we move apart to take up our positions. I join Lin and the caterers in keeping an eye on the buffet, watching as Jessalyn, Camille, Doug, and Kieran move onto the dance floor with some of the theater group. The music begins, and the five couples dance in formation, going through an array of steps that look incredibly complicated to me. I’m so glad they bought my argument that someone has to look out for the guests, meaning that I don’t have to join in.

Kieran and a girl I don’t know lead the other dancers across the floor, moving apart so that girls and boys line up opposite each other. They run past each other on the diagonal, circling around and meeting in the middle, face-to-face once more. All eyes in the room are on them, the guests watching the dance spellbound.

At that moment, the huge double doors to Weston Hall fly open. One by one, people turn to look, making Kieran and his partner pause in their dance for a moment. I frown at the door. My heart leaps.

James and his gang walk in, each smarter than the next. Jamesis wearing the antique Beaufort suit, but the others have dressed extravagantly too—perfect down to every silk square, every button. Lydia is wearing a gorgeous silver silk dress, and her fantastic hairdo must have taken hours. They all look as though they’ve stepped out of a Victorian film. As they pass the dance floor and head for the buffet, you can see on their faces what they think of this party. Cyril turns up his nose, while Wren’s flushed cheeks suggest that he’s had a drink or two already. Kesh’s black eyes flit unimpressed around the room and over the guests. At the sight of me, his expression darkens, and he puts more distance between himself and Alistair. It seems like a reflex action, which makes Alistair frown in annoyance.

James comes over to me, and I virtually drink in his appearance. I’ve seen him wearing that suit on hundreds of posters in the last few weeks, but, in the flesh, it takes my breath away—as it did that day in London. By the time he stops in front of me, my heart is pounding rapidly and unevenly.

“So? How’s it going?” he asks, a mocking smile on his lips. He acts like he didn’t just crash our party late.

“Brilliantly,” Lin answers for me. Apparently, I spent a bit too long staring at James.

He nods. “That’s good.”

“Hope it’s going to be better than the last one, or we’re out of here,” grumbles Cyril.

“Don’t act like you’re too good for our parties,” Lin says through gritted teeth. I look at her in surprise.

“It’s not an act.”

His words make Lin’s cheeks flush an angry red. “You really are—”

“Hey, peace, people.” James’s voice is quiet but firm. He glancesat Cyril, at which he turns away from Lin and heads over to Wren, who is nearby, helping himself to a glass of punch.

One word from James, and a guy like Cyril Vega shuts up. Sometimes the power James has at this school freaks me out.

As if nothing ever happened, he turns to the buffet and takes an hors d’oeuvre. He lifts it to his nose and studies it carefully before popping it into his mouth. Once he’s swallowed, he says to me: “Way better than last time.”

I roll my eyes. “You suggested the caterers yourself.”

He grins, then lets his eyes roam over me. I feel warm as I see his expression change and the mocking smile turn into something gentler, more honest—a smile that seems to be meant only for me. “You look beautiful.”

Something flutters in my stomach, and I gulp hard. “You’ve seen me in this dress before.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you look beautiful in it.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome too.” I smooth the dress, although there’s nothing to smooth, and James suddenly faces me, bowing slightly, holding out his hand. I turn to his friends, but they seem more concerned with tipping booze from a flask into their glasses without being seen. Only Lydia is watching her brother, a peculiar expression in her eyes. I turn back to James.

“What are you doing?” I ask, cheeks burning.

“Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

I bite back a laugh. “There’s a reason I didn’t join in with the opening performance or any of the rehearsals, James. I can’t dance. Or not like this.”

“In Victorian times, it was considered very rude to turn down the offer of a dance, Ruby Bell.”

“Then I must ask you to forgive me. Sadly, I have to keep an eye on the buffet.”

James straightens up and takes two steps toward Lin. He whispers in her ear, making her laugh. Then she nods and shoos him away. James comes back to me, offering me his arm. “Lin says she’ll take charge for a while.”

I hesitate a moment longer but then take his arm. I glare over my shoulder at Lin, which she answers with an apologetic shrug, and James leads me toward the dance floor. I barely even noticed that since the first dance came to an end, it’s been filling up with more and more couples in Victorian dress. Looking around now, I really could have gone back in time.

Quietly, the band strikes up a new tune, soft but rhythmical, which slowly fills the whole hall. James takes my hand in his and lays his other hand on my back. He leads me a few steps to the side, sways us forward and back, takes two steps back and one to the left, while I follow him, staring at our feet the whole time—or rather at the huge hem of the dress.

“Don’t look down,” he says quietly.

I raise my eyes with a heavy heart. James seems as though he’s spent his life dancing at balls. Which might even be true. I wish I had gone to the rehearsals now, or at least watched a few online tutorials and practiced with Ember.

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