stomach squirms and I turn away. How many times has Mother tried to impregnate Violet?
âI donât see why surrogates need to come to these things at all,â Carnelian complains.
âI believe your motherâs most recent attempt to have a child has failed,â the companion says. He clearly overheard the same thing I did. âPerhaps she is trying to keep her spirits up.â
âI suppose,â Carnelian says.
âYou know Mother,â I say, glancing over to whereViolet looks miserable, surrounded by gossiping women. âShe lives to throw big parties. And she loves to show off.â
Just then, the dining room door opens.
âThe Countess of the Stone,â the footman announces. âAnd surrogate.â
There is no way Mother would have ever invited the Countess of the Stoneâunless it was to brag that her surrogate was pregnant. She must have been pretty confident in Dr. Blythe. That seems to have backfired.
Even Carnelian mutters, âWhatâs she doing here?â
They air kiss with fake smiles on their faces and thereâs more small talk but Iâm ready for lunch. My stomach gives a low growl and Carnelian giggles. I grin at her.
âIâm starving,â I say.
âThatâs what happens when you wake up at one in the afternoon,â she says.
Once theyâve set up extra places for the Countess and her surrogate, we all sit. Finally. Violet must be nervous. Sheâs going to die tonight.
And she does look upset. They serve the first course and for a second Iâm distracted by the food. But every time I look at her, sheâs staring at the Countess of the Stoneâs surrogate. The girl is pregnantâitâs like the Countess was trying to show off by putting her in an extra-tight dress. And sheâs even thinner than the Countess of the Roseâs surrogate. In fact, the more I look at her, the more skeletal and fragile she seems. Her skin is like her dressâtoo tight over delicate bones. Her dark eyes are blank, almost unseeing, her shoulders hunched. I feel a twist of emotion in my stomach and realize itâs pity.
âAnd how are you feeling?â the Countess of the Rose asks Violet. But Violet is just staring at the pregnant girl. Maybe Lucien did tell her about what happens to the surrogates. Maybe she knows this girl is going to die.
She suddenly seems to realize everyone is staring at her and glances at Mother.
âThe Countess asked how you are feeling,â Mother says sternly.
âIâm feeling fine, my lady,â she says, to no one in particular. The pregnant surrogate looks up at the sound of her voice.
A tiny hint of life comes back into her dead eyes. None of the Countessâs surrogates last very long, and I wonder how much time this girl has.
I dig into my foodâfilet wrapped in puff pastry, Motherâs favoriteâbut I find myself glancing at the pregnant surrogate more than Violet. She seems to go back and forth between being present and being somewhere . . . else. What has the Countess been doing to her? Iâve heard the rumors, of course, but this seems extreme. How are we all having lunch while thereâs a dying girl sitting at the table?
Suddenly, the pregnant surrogate gasps. She grabs the tablecloth, and out from where her hand touches it, veins of color begin to spread, a deep inky blue. Carnelian screams and Uncle Beryl falls out of his chair.
âGet the doctor!â the Countess of the Rose yells. Weâve all jumped out of our chairs at this point, and then the carpet is going mad, turning a brilliant green, and I back away from it, as if the color could hurt me if it touched me.
I see Violet crouched by the pregnant surrogate andwonder if she knows how to stop whatever it is the girl is doing.
Then the girl vomits up a fountain of blood.
The Countess of the Stone grabs Violet and lifts her up by the neck.
âGet away from her,â she snarls.