Page 45 of Euphoria
Alice hadmy back in the fashion department, but when it came to the actual attendance, I was on my own.
Standing in the dining room as waiters hurried back and forth, I wished with all my might that the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
Running my damp palms across my waist, I began to fret my outfit wasn’t right. The mauve dress Alice loaned me that afternoon—bless her Narnia-like closet—was nice enough even though it wasn’t something I’d choose to wear. It was cinched at the waist, the skirt flared out in a soft ruffle, the shoulders capped delicately, and the neckline was modest, just low enough to show off my collarbone. A small silver necklace finished off the ensemble, a dainty little faux-diamond sitting in the hollow of my throat.
There’d been so much fanfare over my wild mess of hair that in the end, Alice had drawn a comb through it and made an artful yet messy braid that fell forward over my shoulder. The lipstick that coated my lips felt alien, and I resisted the urge to lift my hand and wipe it off.
My gaze caught Bessie’s across the table, and she smiled reassuringly.It was only dinner…
My hands began to shake as the full reality of the evening to come was set before me. Silver service with all of Edward’s friends and their hangers-on staring at me as if I were a curiosity on exhibition. Most of all, I’d have to endure dinner in Blanche Ingram’s presence.
“I wonder why he asked for you,” Bessie said, not noticing my rising hysteria as she set the silverware out. She picked up a fork, polished it, and then set it in its rightful place before moving on to the next. “It’s very curious.”
“It’s a mystery to me,” I replied, staring at the place settings. “I’d rather be eating in the kitchen as I usually do.”
Where was I to sit? Would I have to converse with the guests? It was the proper thing to do. I’d never been to a silver service dinner before. I knew what all the forks and spoons were for after having worked on the bottom rungs in a kitchen or two soon after leaving Lowood, but I’d never been a guest. It was madness.
“Breathe, Jane,” Bessie said kindly. “It’s an odd night indeed, but you will do just fine. These people will be gone by next weekend, and they’ll forget all of us the moment they walk through that front door with their bags packed. They’re a flighty bunch. Pay their shallow words no mind.”
My stomach rolled. “You say it as if you are expecting a spectacle, Bessie.”
“Every day is a spectacle,” she replied with a good-natured wink. “We’ve been given instructions that tonight is to be as casual as possible. You can sit anywhere, but if I can make a suggestion…” She finished polishing the knife in her hands and placed it on the table before ushering me forward. “Everyone has their chosen places. Their familiar spots and they’ve stuck to them, but here…” She guided me to a place at the foot of the table, directly downwind from the head where I knew Edward would sit, and pulled the chair out. “This is the perfect place. Devon and Greta usually sit either side. They’re friends with the Dents and are the least haughty of the lot.” She smiled and gestured for me to sit. “You’ll be fine here.”
“Thank you, Bessie,” I said, sinking into the seat.
“You’re welcome,” she murmured, returning to finish the last place setting before returning to the kitchen to prepare for service.
I sat awkwardly, reaching again and again for the glass of water before me for something to occupy my hands as I waited for the other guests to arrive and my torture to begin.
A few people began to arrive, seating themselves as though they were familiar with their places in the room. Just as Bessie had said. I’d always kept myself apart at dinner, but lunches, afternoon teas, and cocktail parties were things I couldn’t excuse myself away from, so I wasn’t aware of the inner workings of this time of night.
I watched as more people came in, filling the room with voices, and when two people sat either side of my place at the end of the table, I studied them closely. The woman to my right looked at me curiously, and I offered a polite smile. The man to my left was oblivious to all but his wineglass.
“I’m Greta,” the woman said, smiling in return.
Her hair sat around her shoulders in russet waves, her skin pale and freckled, her eyes colored like honey. She was delicate and just as waifish as Alice. Her bright red top hung just so on her slender frame, complimenting her coloring perfectly.
“And that’s Devon,” she added, nodding across the table at the man.
I glanced over to him, and he smiled. He was handsome enough with a clean-shaven jaw, chocolate-colored eyes, and a short back and sides haircut.
He inclined his head and asked, “And you are?”
“Jane,” I replied politely.
“Oh, yes!” Greta exclaimed. “You’re the woman who has spearheaded this artist retreat we have been hearing so much about!”
“It sounds fantastic,” Devon added.
“Thank you.” I blinked furiously, turning my gaze to my lap as I felt my cheeks heat. Edward had been talking to his guests about me? No wonder Blanche had been so spiteful. My curiosity was raised, wanting to know exactly what he’d said and to whom, but with it came the heavy load of doubt that had plagued me all my life. The wounds I’d been so determined to wear with pride were stinging as they opened once more. Why should I be fearful of attention? Not all of it was intended to be bad.
“Oh, here we go,” Greta muttered, flicking her russet waves back over her shoulder.
I glanced up just as Blanche sashayed into the room, her head held high as if she believed herself to be a regal princess. She did look the part with her tailored black skirt and cream silk blouse with gold buttons. Her hair was out, her ringlet curls arranged perfectly, and her makeup was just as artful. Her plump lips were crimson, and her blue eyes shimmered against the darkness of her eyeliner and mascara.
Her stature was imposing, her perfection a stark contrast against my frayed edges, and when her gaze fell upon me, her lip curled in unmasked distaste.
I stilled, waiting for the moment she opened her mouth and cast me out of the room, but Edward strode in, and her attention was pulled away. Casting me one more look before she went to capture his attention, I could see the warning plain in her eyes.Keep your hands off.
