Sex and Vanity(69)

“What is there to tell? He lives in New York and East Hampton now.”

“East Hampton! But that’s too close! I thought maybe he’d be in Hampton Bays or Quogue with all the summer riffraff. And that ghastly mother of his is here too?”

“Yes. Mom’s become friendly with her.”

“How typical. She’s trying to cultivate your mother! Does it make things awkward? Where are they in East Hampton?”

“Cecil got him to rent Cissinghurst.”

“Cecil? How do they know each other?”

“It’s a long story …”

“Oh dear God. Has George been stalking you? Is that why he came to East Hampton?”

“It’s nothing like that, Charlotte,” Lucie said, exasperated.

“Does Cecil know about you and George?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh, Lucie, my poor Lucie. How mortifying for you! I hope it doesn’t bring back too many awful memories. Remember, you were just a teenager then! You were so young and impressionable, and swept up by your first summer romance with an exotic foreigner!”

Lucie shook her head in frustration, annoyed at Charlotte’s overreaction. At the same time, a tide of shame suddenly came seeping into her mind.

“You should have told me he had resurfaced! I could have helped.”

“Charlotte, don’t start with all that again. Capri is ancient history. I’m about to be happily married and George couldn’t care less about me. He’s got this Swedish model girlfriend with blond hair like an Afghan hound’s and legs that go up to her throat.”

“Really?” Charlotte paused. “But what would happen if—”

Lucie stood up abruptly. “Charlotte, I don’t want to hear it. I want my lobster. Coming or not?”





CHAPTER TEN


Cissinghurst



East Hampton


The chef was presenting a pair of glistening roasted Peking ducks to everyone at the table just as Cecil arrived for Rosemary’s dinner party. He came bearing a case of Dugat-Py Mazis-Chambertin Burgundy for Rosemary and a profusion of flowers for the ladies.

“I’m sorry I was in such a foul mood this morning.” Cecil smiled sheepishly as he presented Marian and Charlotte with enormous bouquets.

“What beautiful peonies!” Marian remarked.

“And that’s not all,” Cecil said, as he whipped out two boxes of chocolate truffles and handed one each to Marian and Charlotte.

“Ooh! Truffles from Maison du Chocolat! My favorite! You’re absolutely forgiven, Cecil,” Marian exclaimed, as Freddie leaned over and swiped a truffle with stealth speed and popped it into his mouth.

“Thank you, Cecil. I’m not even sure what we’re forgiving you for,” Charlotte gushed, as she began to think of whom she could regift the expensive chocolates to.

“What happened this morning?” Auden whispered to Freddie.

“Cecil was just being Cecil,” Freddie whispered back, his front teeth all brown from the chocolate.

“Darling, could you come with me for a moment?” Cecil asked Lucie.

“Of course,” she said, getting up from the table. The two of them went into the cavernous oak-paneled living room, which was dominated by three huge Tiffany glass chandeliers and Venetian revival furniture. Cecil and Lucie sat down together on the Knole sofa and, clearing his throat, Cecil began:

“Darling, I have to explain about this morning. When my family first moved from Midland to Houston, we were invited to lunch at the local country club by these business associates of my dad’s. This couple was trying to do Dad a favor and get us into one of Houston’s most exclusive clubs. We got all dressed up—my father put on a new suit he had bought at Barneys New York in the Galleria, my mother bought a dress from the Yves Saint Laurent boutique at the Pavillion and took me shopping for my outfit at Neiman’s. I was seven and thought I looked supercool in a new striped dress shirt and dress pants from some Italian brand I couldn’t pronounce.fn1 We got to the country club and my mother immediately realized that everything about our outfits was wrong. Everything. My father’s suit looked too shiny, her Yves Saint Laurent cocktail dress was too flashy for Sunday brunch, and worst of all, I wasn’t wearing a jacket and tie, which was required. I was seven years old, for fuck’s sake. Who knew that all the men, no matter what age, were required to wear a jacket and tie? The coat check man at the club tried to be helpful and lent me a jacket and tie. I was very small for my age, and even the kid’s-size jacket was so large it looked like an overcoat on me. And the tie was this horrendous pickle-green thing from the seventies that smelled of mothballs. But I had no choice, I was forced to wear it, and I felt so humiliated. I remember all the other boys in their smart navy Brooks Brothers jackets and chinos staring at me like I was some freak.”

“Oh, Cecil …,” Lucie began, feeling guilty.

“We weren’t accepted into the club, of course, and I realize now it had little to do with how we dressed. At the end of the day, our money was just too new, my dad hadn’t gone to the same schools as all the other fellows, and my mother looked a little too exotic for their tastes.”

Lucie gave him a confused look. “Too exotic? But your mother looks like Robin Wright.”