Chapter ９

The music ends and we stop dancing. I think maybe the crowd around us is staring at us, applauding maybe. But I don't see them or hear them. Sterling and I part, and we look into each other's eyes, and some sort of understanding passes between us. Neither one of us was meant for the world we were born into. At least that we have in common.

Sterling walks with me with my arm in his, and we go to the punch table where there are several drinks lined up with servants pouring glasses of wine and champagne and scotch and others that I can't immediately recognize. Drinking was never a big hobby of mine. Sterling hands me a glass with some orange liquid in it and I take a sip, expecting the burning sensation of alcohol. But when the drink passes my lips I smile.

"Orange juice?" I ask.

"You don't like orange juice?" Sterling asks.

"Sure, I was just expecting something more...grown up."

He laughs and takes a glass for himself. "I don't drink just for the sake of drinking. Not everything that is able to be enjoyed is expensive."

The rest of the guests have begun talking amongst themselves once more, and the music has continued playing but not many people are dancing. Behind me I can hear two women talking, and I feel like I've heard their voices before but I can't remember. Then I hear what they're talking about and I remember that they were at Percy's engagement party, and I heard them talking in the restroom.

"She's wearing Laura's old dress."

"I can't believe Sterling had her wear that. Seems like he can't let her go. I think the new girl is just a substitute or a replacement…"

I pick up a small fruit pie and nibble at it as I think, These women think highly of me. A substitute for Sterling's one true love is much more than what I really am. A tool.

Vincent approaches me and my attention goes to him, and I no longer hear the women gossiping behind me.

"Well, how do you like it so far?" he asks me. He's very handsome in his suit. His hair is dark and curly, and something within me wants to reach out and ruffle it.

"Honestly?" I look around the room at the dozens of guests. "It's suffocating."

Vincent bursts out laughing. "You're just like her, you know that?"

I smirk. "You mean Laura?"

Vincent nods. "Sorry. Do you not like hearing that? Because you should know that everyone here is only talking about one thing…"

"Who the hell was she, anyway? No one has been able to give me a straight answer."

Vincent raises his eyebrows and looks around, searching for the right words. "She'd be our hostess tonight, if she was alive."

I gape at him. I had no idea that Laura was dead. "I thought...I guess I just thought they broke up or something."

Vincent reaches out and touches my bare arm for a brief moment and says, "Listen, I know you're hurting for some answers, but I'm afraid you'll have to ask Sterling about her. It's really not my place to say anything more. I'll just tell you what you should've already put together yourself: Sterling and Laura were in love, they were meant to be married, but she died, and she's no longer with us."

I took another bit of the fruit pie. It's very good, filled with cream cheese and strawberries. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"What's your story? How do you all know each other?"

Vincent sighs out of his nose and shrugs. "We sort of all grew up together. Best friends when we were younger. Sterling and Paula had a thing when they were teenagers. They were actually meant to be married. That's what our parents wanted."

"But then he met Laura," I say

The sound of a knife against a glass sounds through the room, and all the guests turn to see Sterling calling for everyone's attention. He extends a hand toward me and I join him at the center of attention, much against my own desire.

"It's time I introduced my new bride," Sterling announces to the crowd. "This is Victoria, the new mistress of Bellegarde Manor."

The crowd applauds and I smile at them all, doing my best to play this part. I wonder how Sterling will explain to everyone why we separated mere days after this party will end.

Later a stranger approaches us and asks, "Where did you two meet?"

Sterling answers. "Pismo Beach, in California. It was one of those love-at-first-sight things."

The stranger smiles as if that's the sweetest thing in the world and doesn't happen to every young couple with more than a tablespoon of hormones between them. "And what do you love about Sterling now?" he asks me.

I tell myself that I should really start rehearsing this sort of thing. "His arrogance?"

The stranger and Sterling laugh, as well as several others around us who are listening in on the conversation. There's no such thing as privacy in high society.

The stranger holds up his flute of champagne and says, "To the new couple!"

Everyone around us shouts, "Here, here!" and drinks to the toast.

That night, after all the guests have left and all the alcohol has been drunk and the servants have put away all the tables and chairs and swept the floor, I climb up the stairs and collapse on my bed, exhausted.

"Why is being fancy so tiring?" I say into my pillow. I hug it tightly and kick off my shoes, then roll over to see a half-naked Sterling standing topless in the open closet. "What are you doing?" I gasp.

He looks down at himself with a look that belongs on the most confused of faces. "I'm...getting ready for bed?"

I look around the room and suddenly realize for the first time that there is only one bed. "Does everyone expect us to share a bed?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, we are married." He laughs a bit, but I'm not smiling.

"I'm not sharing a bed with you. That wasn't in the contract."

He smiles at me and says, "It's not the first time."

I blush. "This is different."