Chapter 12 24 December 2016 #2
Alex loaded three onto a small china plate. He turned to Hannah. ‘These cheesy poufs might be the best thing about a DuPont wedding. Don’t be polite.’
She smiled and followed suit. The server gave them an approving wink, then moved on.
‘So?’ she asked around a mouthful of rich, umami goodness. ‘Why are you here solo?’
Alex slouched back in his seat. ‘Of course she didn’t tell you.’
Hannah frowned. ‘Who? Tell me what?’
‘I was supposed to ask your sister.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Kind of like as a date? But my sister, the wicked witch of Park Avenue, forbade it.’
‘Forbade it?’ Hannah swallowed down a frustrated yelp. Ami had bawled when Hannah had been invited, and she hadn’t. What the hell was Madison playing at?
Alex shrugged. ‘You heard me.’
She drew in a measured breath. ‘Don’t you guys have parents who could, I don’t know, intervene?’
Alex gave her a pointed stare. Of course Madison could get away with laying down whatever rules she wanted when it came to her little brother.
Sure, the DuPonts could have easily overruled their daughter in the matter of their son’s wedding guest, but that wasn’t the point.
Madison knew precisely how to make your life miserable if you crossed her, a lesson Alex had surely learned years ago.
‘So, it was going to be a date, huh? Does my sister know?’
Alex blushed. ‘No. Please don’t say anything.’
She gave him a gentle smile. ‘Scout’s honour.’
‘Anyway, bringing someone else felt like letting Madison win. So, here I am, winning.’ He stood. ‘On that note, I’m off to the bar. Want some bubbly? No one’s checking IDs.’
She shook her head. ‘No thanks.’
When Alex had gone, another server came by with a tray of smoked salmon blinis with dill crème.
Hannah took two. She felt bad for Alex, bored at what must be one of a hundred such family affairs he’d attended through the years, but also – why the hell hadn’t Madison wanted him to bring Ami?
A wave of defensiveness for her little sister washed over her.
Part of Hannah wanted to break her promise to Alex and tell Ami what had gone down, but she knew that was a terrible idea.
If it got back to Madison, she’d make them both pay.
Speaking of… She polished off her blinis and looked around. Where was Madison? She’d been upbeat and full of holiday cheer on the long ride out to Montauk from the city, but the moment they’d arrived, it was as if she didn’t care that Hannah was here at all.
Oh.
Because she’d only brought her to make Elle mad. Hannah’s invitation tonight had been the latest play in whatever game of chess the two queens were currently engaged in. Which, she had to acknowledge, a part of her had known already. But it still hurt to admit it to herself.
Cocktail hour was ending, and the guests filtered from the drawing room into the Great Hall for dinner. She rose to follow. Inside her clutch, her phone buzzed.
It’s time for dinner. Smells like… puff pastry and roast beef. Maybe caramelised onions and some overly sweet cherry dessert.
She halted two steps into the Great Hall. The scent of roast beef and hot pastry was wafting from the kitchen wing. And beneath it, not cherries, but pears.
She looked behind her shoulder, startling an older woman walking behind her.
‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, feeling foolish.
Close. I think it’s a pear tart.
Better. Bon appetit.
She shook off the itchy feeling at the nape of her neck and searched the long, banquet-style tables for her name card, finally locating it at a table near the hearth.
She’d been seated next to Madison, but there was still no sign of the friend who had brought her here tonight.
She stood at her seat, hands resting on the chair back.
In front of her, the place setting was all antique silver and porcelain.
In the centre of the linen-draped table was a large brass candelabra surrounded by a winter arrangement of pinecones, dried lavender and black calla lilies.
All around her, the precisely one hundred guests of the DuPonts and Fairfaxes were taking their seats.
Hannah’s gaze drifted across the room, to a corner occupied by a mighty fir.
It stretched nearly to the very high ceiling, its branches adorned only by white beeswax tapers.
Standing before it was Madison DuPont and a slightly older boy with thick, dark hair and a physique made trim by hundreds of hours of polo, squash and rowing.
He looked college-age, and judging by his close resemblance to the bride, she guessed he was a younger brother, or possibly a cousin.
He reached down to tuck a lock of Madison’s long, red hair behind a delicate ear.
Then she slipped her hand into his, and the two vanished down a dim, sconce-lit hall beside the fir tree.
Hannah’s eyes widened. Maybe Madison hadn’t been ditching her as part of some exhausting power play against Elle. Maybe Madison had a boyfriend. Suddenly, Alex appeared beside her, half-empty champagne flute in hand.
‘Who was that, with your sister?’
Alex drained the rest of his glass in one long gulp. ‘That was Bradley Fairfax. Mary’s half-brother. He’s a student at Oxford. Or Cambridge. One of the two.’
‘And he and Madison are…’
He shrugged. ‘Who cares. Want to go outside and smoke a joint?’
Hannah glanced down the now-empty hall. Madison had abandoned her, and Ami wasn’t here. She didn’t have to set an example.
‘Definitely.’