Free Neferet's Curse: A House of Night Novella (House of Night Novellas) by P. C. Cast Page B

though appropriately, bare. I handed the gown to Mary. “Take a green velvet sash and bow from one of Mother’s dresses. I’ll wrap the sash around my waist, and stitch the bow to the side of the bodice. And bring me one of her green velvet hair ribbons. I’ll wear it tied around my neck. If Father objects, I can truthfully tell him that I am, as he asked, wearing Mother’s green velvet.”
    Mary frowned and muttered to herself, but she did as I told her to do. Everyone did as I told them to do. Even Father was subdued when I refused to go to the GFWC on Friday, saying that I was simply too busy.
    “Well, Emily, tomorrow everything must be just so—just so. Skipping this week’s volunteer duties is certainly understandable. It is commendable to see you fulfilling your responsibilities as Lady of Wheiler House.”
    “Thank you, Father.” I’d answered him with the same words I used countless times before, but hadn’t softened my tone and dropped my head. Instead, I looked him directly in the eye, and added, “And I won’t be able to dine with you this evening. There is just too much for me to do and time is too short.”
    “Indeed, well, indeed. Be quite certain you make good use of your time, Emily.”
    “Oh, do not worry, Father. I will.”
    Nodding to himself, Father hadn’t seemed to notice that I’d left the room before he’d dismissed me.
    It had been a delicious luxury to command George to bring a tray up to my sitting room Friday evening. I ate in perfect peace, sipped a small glass of wine, and recounted the gold-foiled RSVPs—all twenty invitations had, indeed, been accepted.
    I had placed the Simptons’ reply card on the top of the pile.
    Then I lounged on my daybed that sat before my small, third-floor balcony, and burned six pillared candlesticks while I leafed through the latest Montgomery Ward catalog. For the first time I began to believe I might enjoy being Lady of Wheiler House.
    *   *   *
    Excitement didn’t keep me from feeling a dizzying rush of nerves when Carson made his announcement Saturday evening that the guests were beginning to arrive. I’d taken one final look in the mirror while Mary tied the thin velvet ribbon around my neck.
    “You are a great beauty, lass,” Mary had told me. “You will be a success tonight.”
    I’d lifted my chin and spoke to my reflection, banishing the ghost of my mother. “Yes, I will.”
    When I’d reached the landing, Father’s back was to me. He was already engaged in an animated conversation with Mr. Pullman and Mr. Ryerson. Carson was opening the front door for several couples. Two women—one I recognized as the rather plump Mrs. Pullman, and the other, a taller, more handsome woman—were admiring the large central arrangement of lilies, cattails, and draping ivy I’d spent so many hours on. Raised in pleasure, their voices had carried easily to me.
    “Well, this is quite lovely and unusual,” Mrs. Pullman said.
    The taller woman had nodded appreciatively. “What an excellent choice to use these lilies. They have filled the foyer with an exquisite scent. It is as if we entered a fragrant indoor garden.”
    I hadn’t moved. I’d wanted to take a private moment of pleasure, so I’d imagined, just for an instant, that I was back on my bench in the garden, curtained by willows, cloaked by darkness, and sitting beside Arthur Simpton. I’d closed my eyes, drawn a deep breath, inhaling calm, and as I released it his voice had lifted to me, as if carried on the power of my imaginings.
    “There is Miss Wheiler herself. Mother, I do believe the arrangement you have been admiring shows evidence of her hand.”
    I’d opened my eyes to gaze down at Arthur, standing beside the handsome women I hadn’t recognized. I’d smiled, said, “Good evening Mr. Simpton,” and had begun descending the last flight of stairs. Father had brushed past them and hurried to meet me, moving so quickly that he was puffing with effort when he offered