Eight

The Vanderbilt's had not yet moved up a few streets to the fifth avenue, as other old families with a lot of money, but still lived down at Gramercy Park. Along with other old, Dutch families, they lived the silent life and enjoyed small dinners instead of large festivities.

Araminta's room had been hers since as long as she could remember. She had lived in this house for all of her twenty years in life. The walls were in a pale pink color with a relief pattern in a darker color. There were paintings by artists she did not know, but her father admired them.

Her dressing table was old and an family heirloom. It had been her mothers before she had passed seven years ago, leaving a devastated husband and a daughter who's tears would not stop falling in life.

Sitting by that dressing table, Araminta played with a brush. She lifted her hair in all the weirdest positions, imagining new hairdo's, though she was quite horrible at it. Her maid was much better, and thankfully, Alexandra would do her hair this evening for the opera.

Araminta did not look forward to it the very least, because she would be escorted by Reuben Sylvester. She had absolutely no idea why except for the fact that he had come to their house last night and now he would escort her. It was the worst possible outcome, especially since Araminta had looked forward to just sit with her father in their suite at the opera, being just alone.

An hour or so later, Araminta was dressed, had her hair up and her eyelashes were heavy from the mascara. Her lips were bright red and her dress was a chaste white color with golden details. An old one, unfortunately, but there was nothing to be done about it. New dresses were for big parties and big parties only.

"Ah", said Mr. Vanderbilt when he saw his daughter coming down the steps. "You look like an angel."

Feeling a big smile crackling forth in her face, Araminta kissed her father on the cheek. Her red hair tickled him, much like his bristles tickled her cheek. He rarely left the house in the evenings these days, and there fore, shaving was not as important.

"In deed."

Her heart skipping a beat, Araminta turned to realize that coming out from the cloak room came her cavalier of the evening. He was not dressed to stand out and looked quite ordinary. It was a shame.

"Thank you", she said in a small voice, blushing with out realizing why – because she was not flattered by a douche such as Reuben Sylvester – and curtseyed.

"The carriage is ready."

Arriving late, just as the rest of the fine folks, Araminta stepped outside the carriage just as Benjamin Rutherford. They smiled towards each other just as they realized they were both accompanying Sylvesters.

They then entered the opera and went separate ways as they should, seeing as they had different suites. Araminta was led by Reuben, who had his hand on her lower back, to the Sylvester suite, and was at least happy to see they had saved her a front seat. She sat down next to Roselia – a very pretty, but silent, girl, and pretended to be impressed by the tenor's singing.

After a few minutes though, she could no longer bear it, and took up the lorgnettes, looking for the man that usually made her heart skip more than one beat.

Tonight, Nathaniel de Ford was alone, and that made Araminta ridiculously happy. It meant he was sad and lonely and maybe would consider inviting her the next time for the opera. Happy thoughts.

She continued her search through the masses and passed by Benjamin Rutherford and Aurelia Sylvester, and neither seemed to have a pleasant time. Benjamin seemed to send longing looks here every once in a while, or maybe he was looking towards his sister, who was in the loge next to this one.

Temperance Rutherford was alone this evening. It was quite satisfying for Araminta, who although not a naughty girl, most certainly was pleased by the fact that Temperance was just as unhappy as her self this evening.

Intermission did not seem to come soon enough, and when it finally did, all Araminta wanted was for it to end.

Reuben escorted her out the suite, being kind enough to ask if she wanted any thing. They had a small but shockingly pleasant conversation as they walked through the golden halls in the back of the opera.

Men of all social status suddenly emerged from their corners of the world to make visits. They were not alone any longer, but Reuben seemed to know where one could sneak off so not to be disturbed.

Araminta did not want to sneak off with Reuben Sylvester, let alone being seen sneaking off with him, but it seemed quite urgent for the older man – by a few years, only.

"I do not know you as well as I would like, so I do not have a sentimental speech prepared for this … kind of event."

Araminta sat down on a puffy cushion, gloved hands in her lap. Wherever this was going, she was not sure she wanted to find out.

"I have sincere hopes and whishes that you would like to marry me in the near future."

And just like that, it felt like Araminta fell down a hole. A dark hole which's only content was her, and it devoured her from the inside, spreading like the blood in her veins – which had, by the way, became cold as ice – and she felt dizzy.

"Yes."

With out having a clue why, Araminta told him yes. Seeing as he asked of her hand her, on all of the places, he must have her fathers blessing. And if her father had blessed it with out telling her, it must mean that Mr. Vanderbilt really wanted this marriage for his daughter.

That is why she answered yes. It did not make her feel better of her self in anyway, and Reuben did not actually jump up and down of happiness either. That made her question how much he wanted this. Maybe he just tried to control his feelings and he sure did an amazing job of it.

"It will continue any minute, I think we ought to go back."

"Of course, Mr. Sylvester." Araminta rose and collected her skirts, hands shaking.

"Call me Reuben."

"Oh." That black hole-feeling was returning with an awful speed as Araminta lifted her head and looked her fiancée in the eye. Oh what a horrible, horrible evening. "Of course."