Beautiful Wild - Anna Godbersen Page 0,90
the same way for many years of her life. She wanted to survey a room of fine people dressed their absolute best, and feel her place atop the invisible hierarchy of coveted invitations and elegant possessions and incomparable taste. And for a moment her old self felt gratified by this confirmation of her ability to win the attention of anyone, anywhere that she pleased. That ripple of triumph to have all eyes on her and know how far she had risen.
The crowd parted for her, and she saw Fitzhugh, the shine of his hair catching the light, and the blue of his eyes a perfect match for her dress. Instinct propelled her. She smiled with a closed mouth and floated toward him. When she arrived at his side, his elbow hooked hers, and they began a slow rotation through the room. The moment with Adele Jones at the Vanderbilts’ really was an aberration—she felt nothing but a warm, envious awe from the crowd now.
“Mother is thrilled that the press will be moving on from the sinking of the Princess,” Fitzhugh said as, arm in arm, they moved from one grouping of old family friends to another.
“How could they not?” Vida replied with winning confidence. At just that moment she saw her future mother-in-law through the crowd, wearing spangled purple. She was in conversation with the Duke of Lemmon, and when she felt Vida’s gaze, she tilted her head and met it with her own. For a moment the two women regarded each other across a sea of tulle. Then the elder lowered her lashes, and returned to Vida the same exact closed-mouth smile that Vida had just been bestowing on all the world.
A sense of clarity settled around Vida’s temples. She knew she had the woman’s respect now; that the grand Mrs. Winthrop Farrar would not turn away from Vida in subtle dismissal again. Unlike Vida’s own parents, Mr. and Mr. Farrar read all the papers, and they surely knew that the discussions of the Farrar Line’s stock price in the wake of the sinking of their newest ship on its maiden voyage were bad for business, and that having the Farrar name on the front page for another reason would be to all of their advantages. This revelation did not wound Vida. In fact it was the sort of coup that she had always delighted in. She wasn’t worried about having Fitzhugh’s true affection—if she didn’t have it now, she would in time, as she always eventually won everybody over. Great hostesses had gotten their entrée into society in worse ways.
“You mustn’t think—” Fitzhugh glanced at her, realizing what an unromantic thing he had said.
“I understand perfectly. Don’t worry, I’m not so delicate as to be offended by the ways of the world.”
“No.” Fitzhugh winked at her, and she winked back, and for a moment she remembered the night they met, how she had watched him playing the game of society as well as she played it. How much she’d wanted to meet this male version of herself.
She remembered it all, as she might remember a story vividly told by someone else. She gazed at Fitzhugh, trying to see him anew. He had inherited his strong jaw and blue eyes from his mother, and it seemed to Vida a sure sign of what he would become. Not daring, but shrewd; a man who could read a room and play it to his advantage. Well, Vida reminded herself, that was who she was, too. Unsentimental, ambitious. Yet she could not escape the sense that she had set her eyes on a great prize, and that it was disappointing that it should be so easily won.
Every inch of the room was encrusted in something gold-colored, or in polished wood, or strung up with velvet, or painted in oils. And yet it felt small to Vida, and very cramped. There were so many people between her and a door, and she had a sudden desperate need for a wide-open space and a view of the world from a solitary height.
Who was she? Sal had seemed to know, but he was nowhere to be seen now, and anyway he had never been inclined to tell her how to act or who she ought to be.
“Where’s Sal?” she asked.
“Sal?”
“He said he was leaving tonight—I wanted to say good-bye.” She wasn’t sure if Fitz’s long expression was because she had reminded him of the loss of his friend, or because he suspected what Sal meant