Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Kendrick moved around the ballroom with Genevieve’s hand tucked in his, greeting vampires of all physical ages and nationalities.
Some had come in up-to-date costumes, and some had clearly pulled out favored clothing from days gone by.
How that must set Etienne’s teeth on edge, Kendrick thought, hiding a smile.
“Genevieve, have you met Marshall Cutter? I have been assisting him with the Ossuary’s rebuilding project.”
“No, I have not. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cutter.” Genevieve’s eyes sparkled. “I have noticed a lack of whitewash and brick dust when Kendrick returns from your endeavors of late. The repairs are going well?”
“A pleasure, ma’am,” Marshall said, bowing. “Yes, we hope to be finished with the major rebuilding by the end of January. May I present my friend Miss Pendleton?”
Miss Pendleton was quite changed from how she’d appeared the last time Kendrick had seen her. No longer wild and red-eyed, she wore a white gown reminiscent of her name, and lilies were pinned to her collar and in her hair. “How do you do?” she whispered, holding tight to Marshall’s arm.
“You look lovely, Miss Pendleton,” Kendrick said.
Her shy eyes darted to him and a small smile crept over her face. “Thank you, sir.”
A few minutes later, Kendrick was pulled into another circle of vampires. “I hadn’t thought you’d do it,” one of the louder naysayers was saying to him, “but there are more vampires here than in all the prior years’ assemblies, and those were mandatory! Ha ha!”
“All the credit is due to my wife,” Kendrick said, squeezing Genevieve’s hand.
“Ah, yes. Heard you were married. Can’t quite credit it,” the blowhard said.
Kendrick narrowed his eyes in warning. “You must believe it, for I have snatched the best treasure from among you for myself.”
The vampire’s lady companion, appearing as a stout matron in chartreuse, clearly had no trouble believing it. She tittered and rapped Kendrick playfully with her fan. “You devil.”
Kendrick glanced at Genevieve and raised an inquiring eyebrow, as if to say, Am I a devil?
She made a face behind her fan at him.
Just then, a susurrus passed through the ballroom. People pulled away from the doorway, staring with wide eyes.
“What is it?” Genevieve asked.
“Gisela is here.” He exchanged a look with her.
“Oh, good.” Genevieve set her shoulders and strode towards Gisela, Kendrick in perfect time with her.
By the time they’d reached the ballroom door, a semicircle of emptiness had formed around Gisela and her aunts.
“Miss Gisela! How wonderful you look,” Genevieve said, taking her hand and admiring the wine-red gown. “And Miss Hattie and Miss Connors, you both look exceedingly well.” Gisela’s aunts wore matronly gowns of dark blue and brown. “How glad we are that you could attend.”
“Thank you,” Gisela said, a cynical quirk at the corner of her mouth. “You’ve garnered quite a crush. What a good thing no one needs to breathe.”
A genuine smile spread over Genevieve’s face. “I believe the Roger de Coverley is beginning in a few minutes. Do you—”
“Gisela.” Salem strolled up, Ophelia on his arm. “How interesting to see you.”
“Salem. How do you do?”
“Quite well. I’m married now.”
Gisela favored Ophelia with a nod. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Ophelia said.
Salem heaved a sigh. “I suppose you have not been engaged for this number, Gisela? Would you care to dance?” He held out a hand.
After a second of hesitation, Gisela curtseyed regally and took his hand as he led her out onto the floor. Wide-eyed, the crowd stared and milled about before the dance took form and the orchestra struck up the first bars.
“Did you and he…?” Genevieve murmured to Ophelia.
“We talked about it. He agreed to be civil. I still don’t like her,” Ophelia said through her teeth.
Etienne and Addie walked up. Etienne goggled. “Bon Dieu, is that Gisela?”
“How daring of her to wear the shade of blood,” Addie said. She was wearing gold silk.
“Provocative,” Ophelia said.
“Shall we join them?” Kendrick asked, offering his hand to Ophelia.
“Actually, my knee is beginning to hurt,” Ophelia demurred. “I’d rather rest it than continue bounding about.”
“Shall we sit?” Genevieve offered. “I have not had a chance to sit down yet this night!”
“Abandoned at every turn. In that case, will you favor me with a dance, Addie?” Kendrick asked. Addie accepted with every sign of pleasure.
“Better?” Genevieve asked, as she and Ophelia took a seat around the perimeter of the room.
“Yes, much.”
“Oh—do you need a drink? Something to eat?”
Ophelia shook her head. “Salem brought me a snack and a cup of punch from the kitchens just a little while ago, but thank you. I did get some odd looks as I ate a plate of sandwiches.” She smiled.
“You haven’t been bothered, I hope?”
“Salem has a very ferocious glare that he wields well. Truly, I’ve been having a lovely time.
This is my first true ball. I used to think I couldn’t ever go to balls because of my leg, but Salem practiced with me enough that I can manage slow dances just fine.
” She beamed. “And I danced with several gentlemen.” She glanced out at the floor.
“Gisela looks like she’s sucking on a lemon, doesn’t she? ”
“She might be suffering just as much as Salem,” Genevieve said. “But it was good of him to offer.”
“Mending fences is important. Finding people willing to mend them with you is also important.” A shadow passed over her face.
“There is still much lingering reluctance and those hesitant to change, but I am glad that the Ossuary is warming to transformation. We need it so badly. Vampires have such trouble with the future. I don’t know if you realized that,” Genevieve added dryly.
“There is so much looking back at the past, at what was lost, and so little towards what could be.”
“You’re teaching them how to hope after they’ve forgotten how,” Ophelia said. “I think that, more than anything, is what people crave.”
Later, as Kendrick returned to her side and they were approached by people with congratulations or questions or those who just wanted to speak to them for a moment, the sentiment stuck with Genevieve as she looked these people in the face—young, old, men, women, frozen in time, exiled from the normal flow of humanity.
They all took to the floor for the last waltz, a slow revolution around the floor. Genevieve laid her head on Kendrick’s shoulder.
That’s all they want. A little hope, to bear the march of time, she thought, holding on to Kendrick.
Maybe we can show them where to find it.