Claimer: Annette, Lily, Gregory, Thomas, Polly, Jenny, etc. are mine. If you want 'em, ask me. I'll most likely give 'em up.
Author's note: *waves white flag* Wow... it's been months. No one reading this, are they? *pout*
The party, his mother decided, was to be the biggest and most memorable of the year. Society would speak of it for months to come, at least until her Winter Social.
Christian smiled and nodded politely whenever his mother would ask his opinion on something. Generally she only asked about the little things that he didn't care about: what color theme to use, what flowers to use as centerpieces, what food to serve, what punch to serve. On important things, such as whether or not he wanted a party, no one asked for his ideas.
He went along, as he always did when family was involved (excluding the incident with his father)- politely agreeing to whatever they said.
Annette was helping her mother plan the party. Both women planned day and night, thinking of nothing but 'The Party'. Christian could just imagine how both females said it with capital letters in their minds.
He finally managed to yank Annette away from her planning. He pulled her into the empty study.
"Christian, what are you doing? I have to go and run to the florist to get the samples for the centerpieces-"
Annette was silenced when Christian put a hand over her lips. "Be quiet, Annette."
Annette was quieted.
"I need to talk to you."
Annette wandered away to a leather chair and flounced into it. "About what?"
"About all of this. About the party. Annie- I don't want the party."
Annette looked up sharply. "Don't want it?" she asked in surprise. "Why ever not?"
"Annie, you know parties aren't my thing."
"Well," she said pointedly. "Why didn't you tell Mother that before she got into such a tizzy about it?"
"Mother was 'in a tizzy', as you say, the minute the words were out of her mouth."
"Christie, you could've said no."
Christian shook his head forlornly. "No, I couldn't have."
Annette seemed impatient. "Why not? Christian, you're not seven years old anymore! If you don't like something, just tell her."
"Mother seems so excited about it... how could I say no? It'd break her heart."
Annette laughed. "Mama's not a china doll. She doesn't break that easily."
"Annie, dear, you're not helping."
Annette stood up. "Is that it? Because I have to go get the samples for Mother-"
"Sit down, Annette." Christian said without looking up. Surprised, Annette sat down immediately.
"Who are these people you keep talking about- the cousins or something like that..."
Annette's eyes grew wide. "Oh, darling, you really are out of the loop! Darling, they are only the two most important debutantes of the year! They are positively stunning, and they're cousins. So naturally everyone wants to marry into such a family. They are the most sought after for wives of all of London society."
"Names?" asked Christian dully. He'd heard this all before. His family was a model example of society, and his mother was hoping for a match. That was the true motive behind the party, he knew.
But Annette was talking now. "The younger one is named Jennifer Hartsdale. The elder one is named Polly Wintershine."
The name throbbed in Christian's ears:
Polly Wintershine Polly Wintershine Polly Wintershine Polly Wintershine.
But again, Christian couldn't dwell- Annette was speaking. "Positively lovely girls. Can't stand one another. They used to be the best of friends and now they are most bitter of rivals." Annette dropped her voice to a whisper. "Both are the most stunningly gorgeous girls you could ever see. I'm jealous of them both."
"What are they like?" Christian, a true author, had fallen in love with the name: Polly Wintershine. It was so poetic- like a crisp winter morning when the sun shone off the snow, with a tree with icicles hanging off the bare branches with two initials carved in it: S+C= ...
But Annette was talking. Still. Christian forced himself to listen.
"Jenny is sweet as anything- the nicest girl you'd ever hope to meet. And Polly- well, nobody really knows anything about Polly except the fact that she hates her cousin and that's she's beautiful."
"And why is that?" asked Christian. Annette lowered her voice even more.
"Polly isn't a very nice girl- so I've heard."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, everyone's heard rumors about her. And everyone believes them. The only thing that's ever kept her in society- and this is the strangest part- is the fact that Jenny always clears her name!"
"The cousin that she can't stand clears her name?" Christian asked in wonder. Annette nodded.
"Uh-huh. It's sooooooo mysterious."
"Annette? Annet-te? Where are you, dear?" It was Lily. She glided into the room.
"Darling, did you get the flowers?"
"No, Mother, I was talking to Christian."
"Darling, I need those flowers by tonight. Go straight away and don't dawdle."
"Yes, Mother." Annette stood up and passed by the two of them. Lily pinched her cheek.
"Such a good girl. Now, don't dilly-dally!" laughing, she turned to Christian. "Darling, what's the matter?"
Christian shook his head. "Nothing, Mother. Nothing at all."
Nothing ever was in that house.
~*~
After dinner that night, Christian found himself wandering around the house aimlessly. Out to the veranda, through the parlor, into the library. In a trance, he wandered into the study.
He froze when he saw his father and mother in there, talking. Christian backed out slowly, but still stood in the doorway. He had been possessed by some strange devil and could not seem to move.
"Honestly, Jeremy, he's been here for two days and you've hardly spoken a word to him!" He heard his mother exclaim. The words were punctuated with a stomp of her small foot.
"Lily," said Jeremy through clenched teeth, "I'll handle it, dear." The word 'dear' was spoken with a deadly venom, daring her to go on.
Lily missed the warning signs and proceeded. "But Jeremy-"
"LILLIAN!" growled Jeremy. "I told you I would handle it!"
Lily made a whimpering sound that Christian thought meant that she had backed down. A minute later he was proven wrong. "He's your son, Jeremy."
There was a sharp crack of a book being closed- or what Christian sincerely hoped was a book being closed. The next voice was dangerously quiet and calm. "I told you, darling, I will handle it."
With that, Christian slunk away from the door and retreated into his room.
While the Bohemians that Christian was accustomed too showed their feelings, the Bourgeois did not believe in showing what they felt.
While the Bourgeois said the Bohemians were dangerous, Christian knew otherwise.
It's the Bourgeois who are dangerous, he realized, pressing his back into his door, blockading himself against society. You always know what the Bohemians are thinking. With the Bourgeois, you never know.
~*~
"Salmon canapés." said Annette with absolute certainty. "Definitely the canapés."
"But, dearest, at the Jamison party last month they served that delectable caviar from- where was it from? Russia? Where ever it was from, it was delightful."
"But, Mama, the canapés are splendid and everyone loves them. Not everyone can tolerate caviar."
The two looked up expectantly at Christian. "Christian, dear, what do you think?" asked his mother pointedly. Christian gave a nervous smile.
"Well, Mother, I don't think I'm qualified to answer this question..." he said, not sure of what he was saying despite the realization that he was trying to avoid answering it.
"Stop the stalling and answer the question, Christian: canapés or caviar?"
Christian was doomed to respond to this question. "Caviar?" he said meekly.
The two women looked at one another.
"Canapés." They said in unison, before leaning over the guest list. They were scrutinizing the list for the millionth time that day.
"I think I'm going to take a walk." Christian announced.
Both were busy; Annette was pointing to something on the list and Lily was hurriedly scribbling some names along the bottom.
Christian cleared his throat. "I said, I'm going to take a walk."
Neither bothered to look up.
"Don't be gone for too long, dear." said Lily absent-mindedly.
Christian rolled his eyes and escaped.
The fresh air did him some good, walking along familiar streets made him feel better then he had in a while.
He wandered aimlessly, not knowing exactly where he was going. He was surprised when he ended up in Harrington park, the park he'd played at when he was child.
He walked around the winding paths, passing children merrily calling to one another, flying kites and playing with dolls, pushing miniature trams and cradling stuffed toys.
He looked up at the sky. It was bright blue that barely looked real, with small white clouds.
He sighed aloud.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" came a voice.
Christian snapped out of his trance and looked to where the voice had come from.
A girl maybe a year or two older than Annette stood there, smiling.
"Yes, it is." he said uncertainly, not knowing what to make of such a girl. While this would have been a normal occurrence in Montmartre, this was quite odd for London.
The girl was striking beautiful. Her hair was shiny raven black, left blowing in the breeze- another oddity for London.
Her eyes were a pale, pale blue, frightening pale, with slanting, smoky eyelashes veiling them.
Her complexion was one of porcelain, pristine white that looked almost slick in the sunlight.
Christian wasn't sure what to do.
The girl smiled pleasantly.
Christian, obligated by the rules of society that had been drummed into him for as long as he could remember, smiled back, albeit bewildered.
The girl leaned forward on her heels. "I don't bite." she said candidly.
This struck Christian and funny, and he burst out laughing.
In the midst of his fit of laughter, he realized that this was the first time he had laughed in a long time.
When he stopped, he noticed she was just looking at him. He gave her a look.
She grinned. "I'm an artist. I study people. I find you interesting."
Christian nodded. Block out all memories of anything like that.
"What, you don't talk anymore? I heard you before." she taunted. "What, does the cat have your tongue?"
Christian laughed again. "I haven't been asked that since I was seven." he said.
She stuck her tongue out at him. "So, I'm juvenile. I'm allowed to be. So there."
The girl looked at a little watch she had pinned on to her blouse.
"Oh! I'm late! I have to go! I have to go home! Good-bye!" she said hurriedly. She lifted up her skirts and ran off down the paved path, scattering children at play.
Christian stood there.
He looked up at the sky. Now, what purpose did that serve? He asked the upper deities.
Shaking his head, he started back home, pondering over the mysterious girl.
No importance. He told himself. Mother'll have a whole list of girls waiting for me at 'The Party'.
~*~
The party was in fill swing. Flowers had been arranged; sofas, chairs and tables re-arranged to accommodate the dancers; bedrooms designated for blushing females and their vestibules and maids. In the kitchen, salmon canapés and crackers with caviar were being prepared and set out on the shoulders of the countless valets Lily had hired for this event.
Christian made his way up the stairs. Two girls, one in pink, on in olive, were walking down the stairs, chatting. The chitchat stopped the moment Christian was in view. Christian nodded to the two girls.
"Good evening." he said evenly.
The two girls burst into giggles and thundered down the stairs.
Christian nodded and continued on his way.
He went into his bedroom, shut the door, and locked it.
He sighed. Safe at last.
He had been introduced to countless people, women that were his mother's friends, their daughters, their aunts, their cousins, their cousin's mother's stepsister's aunt's daughter.
His head was spinning with the names and faces of all the people there. More arrived by the minute. The verandah and gardens were filled, almost every bedroom with the exception of his parent's, his own, his brothers' and Annette's (a fraction of the number of bedrooms his house had) were filled with gossiping, giggling, primping debutantes who were spraying on perfume, pinching their cheeks and fixing their dresses on final time before greeting the rest of the party.
Christian sat down. He had had enough of the party. Too many people. Glittering women, with their diamonds and rubies and emeralds; sapphires and pearls. The men, with their diamond cuff links and tie tacks, gold canes and emerald-studded dollar folds. Girls, with their clouds of perfumes and springs of flowers in their hair, their scented face powder and their silk sashes. Plump society matrons sitting on the settees set aside for just this reason, the younger ones such as Lily constantly hopping up and offering to get them refreshments.
He had had enough of the vapid talk, the same narrow people. The people were boring. The talk was boring. The girls would not quit giggling.
That was a thing Christian never understood about women. Why did they constantly titter? Why? Was there a reason? That and the group enigma. Why did women constantly flock together when they left? No single female ever left or came alone. Ever. It must be one of those great mystery things that no one would ever be able to solve.
Christian ran his hand through his hair, mussing it. He sighed aloud. Who hadn't wanted this party? Oh, yeah- him.
"I told her." he muttered.
There was a tapping on the door. "Christian?"
It was Annette.
"Come in!" called Christian.
She came in.
"Hi." she said breathlessly, leaning back against the door.
"Hi." he replied.
Annette crossed the room to stand in front of him. "You are never going to guess what."
"What?" Christian couldn't resist saying.
"Papa's chatting with a gentleman in the library and it's in consideration of my betrothal!"
Christian, shocked, gaped at his little sister. "Annie, do you even know who he's talking to?"
Annette shook her head slowly, not quite understanding what he was getting at. "No."
"So, Father could be marrying you off to a man his age and you wouldn't care? God, Annette! Where is your self-respect? How can you be so blasé about it? 'Oh, I might be married this time next year to a man I've never seen before in my life!'" he said, imitating her.
Annette regarded him with big, fawn-like eyes. "Christian," she laughed, trying to lighten the truth. "You don't understand."
Christian turned on his sister heatedly. "No, I don't. Explain it to me, Annette. Explain how girls can willingly be married off to men they don't love. Explain."
Annette looking at him pityingly. "Christian, in the social scheme of things, our family is pretty high up. That's the only card I have to play. I'm nothing remarkable to look at- well, I'm not-" she said, when he started to open his mouth. "I'm not that bright and I'm not that obedient. The longer Mother and Papa wait to get me wed the less chance I have. Mama said that the man in the library is filthy rich and has a fabulous title."
"Then why would he go after you?" asked Christian. Annette pouted. "Well, no offense, but if he's rich AND has a title, why would he go after you?"
Annette shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he's old. Maybe his breath smells."
"And you don't care?" Christian interrupted.
Annette continued."But he suggested it to Papa, so I'm crossing my fingers."
They were both quiet for a moment.
"You are pretty, Annie. And smart."
Annette smirked. "I noticed your aversion of the word 'obedient'."
"Well, I'm not going to lie to you."
They both laughed.
Annette held out her hand.
"We should get downstairs. Mama will be cross if we disappear in the middle of her gala."
Christian took it. "I know."
They left his room and started down the stairs, discussing the hors d'oeuvres when Annette stopped suddenly.
"Oh, my heavens."
"What?" asked Christian, alarmed. Annette had turned pale and had tightened her grip on his hand. "What is it?"
"They're here. Christian, they're here!"
Christian looked at her as if to say 'Who?'
"The Cousins! They're here!"
Annette rushed to the railing, pulling Christian along.
Just entering the house was a fresh-faced beauty. She has straight honey-colored hair and bright, innocent blue eyes. Her face had a rosy pallor, and she seemed effortlessly cheerful and delicate in her pale blue dress.
"Jenny Hartsdale." breathed Annette. Jenny air-kissing some girls, chattering and giggling.
Another girl entered the hall, looking much less perfect. "Polly." whispered Annette to Christian.
Christian was in minor shock.
Polly Wintershine was a lovely girl, her lovely moonlight skin complemented by her violet dress.
Her luxurious black hair was pulled back with a silver clip, with a little silver bird preparing to take flight on it.
A blush had been carefully dusted unto the apples of her cheeks.
The most striking thing about her were her eyes. Unearthly pale blue, starred with lacy black lashes.
The girl from the park.
Annette turned to Christian, smiling. " They're real beauties, aren't they? But don't gape, you look like a codfish."
Polly looked around. It was obvious she was not as popular as Jenny.
She caught Christian's eye. A grin spread across her face, and she did a little curtsy.
Christian made a little bow.
An instant later, the whole party buzzed.
"Christian, darling, wherever did you meet her?" asked Annette, clutching his elbow.
"Polly, sweetness, how do you know dear Christian?" asked Polly's mother.
Christian just grinned.
As did Polly.
Their secret was safe.
Next: Someone from Christian's past appears- and it ain't a good thing, to say the least.
