Part 20 (2/2)
”Sorry,” I mutter, pulling back out of Gabriel's arms.
”That was kind of sloppy. Not my best.”
”I don't mind,” he says, and his voice is this side of unsteady. Then he straightens his tie and smoothes the front of his suit jacket.
”You're blus.h.i.+ng.”
”Yeah ... well, you're wearing lipstick now” I reach up to smudge it off him as best I can, trying not to let my fingers linger on the curve of his lower lip.
”Thanks. Ready?”
”No,” I say, but he squeezes my hand and opens the door to the garden anyway. We spill out into a crowd of people. All of them seem to be drinking and smoking; the women are holding slim gold and ivory cigarette holders while the men puff on thick toffee-colored cigars or pipes. A swirl ofcolor catches my eye. A woman wearing a feathery bronze headdress is holding court, her long eyes painted with purple eye shadow, her mouth a slash of scarlet. Torches staked into the ground provide a soft flickering light, and the cheerful sweep of a jazz quartet occasionally breaks through the swells and billows of conversation. An enormous white tent in the middle of the garden has been set up for dancing, and various couples move in and out of the twilight.
”See her?” Gabriel says to me in a low voice just as a waiter glides to a stop before us, holding out a tray. The man's eyes are steady on a spot between my shoulder and Gabriel's, and after we take two bell-shaped champagne gla.s.ses he moves off without even looking at us once. I begin to breathe a little.
”Not yet,” I say, swigging my champagne.
”Easy on that,” Gabriel warns, his eyes s.h.i.+fting past me. I turn to find a trio of girls, each dressed in pink, looking at us-or rather, at Gabriel-with what seems like admiration. Just in time I catch a smile flit across his face as he gazes back at them.
”Easy on that,” I say, and after linking arms, we move into the crowd as casually as possible. I take my cue from the waiter and don't make eye contact with anyone in particular. But we're discovered anyway.
”Darling,” a woman's voice purrs into my ear, and I nearly spill my gla.s.s of champagne.
”I have been looking for you everywhere. When did you get here?”
”Um ... a few minutes ago” I nod at her and try to move on, but her hand is wrapped around my arm. She is small and sharp featured, and her red hair breaks in glossy waves all around her head.
”Of course you did. How like you!” she exclaims, as if praising me for doing something very clever. Her black feather boa draped across her shoulder seems to be a living, breathing creature. I am staring at it, fascinated, when she leans into me and says in a loud stage whisper, ”And just who is this beautiful man with you?” Without waiting for my answer, she winks at Gabriel and nudges between us. Her boa arcs through the air and wraps itself tightly around their hips. I open my mouth, but just then a hearty voice booms out to my right.
”Melora. Every time I turn around, you've disappeared. What is the meaning of this, really?” A ma.s.sively florid man wobbles into view and slaps one meaty paw down onto the woman's shoulder in what is supposed to be a caress but looks more like a death grip. Melora's boa seems to wilt under his onslaught.
”Oh! Charles!” Melora says, and even though she's smiling, I can tell she's really trying not to shriek.
”I just had to greet Cousin-” And here she shoots me a look.
”Agatha,” I say blithely. The man peers at me for a second, then blinks, shakes his head.
”So many cousins,” he roars jovially.
”Cousin Agatha,” he says and kisses me on each cheek. IgnoringGabriel completely, he turns back to Melora and says, ”Now, you really must come with me. There's something I want to discuss with you.” Distaste flutters across Melora's features, but she allows the man to begin leading her away, his hand still clamped on her shoulder. But in the next second the boa floats up again as if stirred by an errant breeze and winds itself briefly around the man's arm. With a surprisingly high-pitched yelp, he s.n.a.t.c.hes his hand back and wrings it out once, twice.
”d.a.m.n thing bit me!” he exclaims.
”No, lambkins,” Melora coos, cradling his hand.
”It absolutely did not” Then she looks sidelong at me and winks before they both disappear into the darkness.
”Did she just call him lambskin?” Gabriel asks, and we move back into the crowd.
”This way,” he adds, and we veer to the left and duck under the white tent, skirting the dance floor of polished wooden squares that seems to have been laid just for this evening.
”Are you related to them?”
”I wouldn't be surprised if that turns out to be Gwyneth's grandmother. She had that nasty viper look.” Snips and s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation swirl toward me as we weave our way around clumps of people.
”I tell you, they were right to finally start pulling in Roosevelt. Ever since the New Deal-”
”Darling, you promised. You know Cousin Lindel is a Roosevelt man. Why must you always bait him?”
”But I-”Gabriel pulls me sideways. A figure with a white painted face undulates past us, turning silk scarves into birds and then back again. I blink, trying to figure out if he's Talented or merely hired entertainment for the evening, when Gabriel says softly, ”There” We stop beside the garden wall in the shadow of a large magnolia tree.
A young woman dressed in a mermaid-cut black dress and a silver fur stole is tipping back her dark head, laughing with wide white teeth. On her wrists diamonds glitter and flash like fallen stars.
”That's her,” Gabriel says, but I find that I am staring at a girl who looks about my age, dressed all in white. She's standing close to Aunt Beatrice, and at first glance they appear to be deep in conversation, but then her eyes s.h.i.+ft across the crowd, probing like two searchlights across dark water. Suddenly, she swings her head toward me and meets my gaze for one second-as if in acknowledgment- before turning back to Aunt Beatrice. I feel a thump deep in my chest as if my heart has stopped and has just started again with a bang, and then the moment is gone. A light breeze stirs through the garden, rippling dresses and shawls. A pink curtain of magnolia petals veils my vision. When I look again, a tall, robust man is lighting Aunt Beatrice's cigarette.
”Can you ... sense the Domani?” I ask hopefully. Gabriel shakes his head, saying nothing right away. His brows draw together, his fingers twitch, and then he looksdown at me before saying with some frustration, ”I don't know what I'm looking for. Needle? Haystack? Not the clock, obviously.
What? What is it?” he says softly, more to himself than me. Absently, he reaches over, pulls a flower from my hair, and holds it to his nose.
”Time,” he says after a minute.
”There's a ticking in my head.” I must look alarmed, because he smiles.
”Not like a bomb.”
”This is worse than a needle in three haystacks,” I say glumly after a minute when nothing seems to be happening.
”Why did I think we could do this?”
”Because we did do it. We just don't know how yet,” Gabriel answers, and I smile at him, squeezing his hand. At that moment the band strikes up a slow, stately tune.
”Let's dance. Dancing always makes me think better.” I give him a dubious look.
”It does? And is that really a good idea?”
”Killjoy,” Gabriel explains patiently, ”I'm wearing a suit. You're wearing the prettiest dress ever. It's 1939, and who knows what's going to happen next. Come on, Tamsin. It's the best idea I can come up with right now” And with that he leads me from the shadow of the tree onto the torch-lit dance floor, where we join the throng of other entwined couples.
”I can't dance,” I mutter.
”This is a waltz,” Gabriel says in the exact same way you'd say, This is an orange.
”I still can't dance.”
”I can,” Gabriel says and pulls me toward him. With one arm wrapped around my waist, he begins to whirl me around the floor so fast that I don't have time to think about how I have no idea what to do next. Faces flicker in and out of the shadows over Gabriel's shoulder as we fly through the flower-scented air. The music swells softly until it becomes a part of my feet and suddenly we're moving in perfect step with each other. Just when I feel this could and should go on forever, the music stops and my dress swirls against my legs. I'm gasping lightly and my hair is coming undone.
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