The Davenports(16)

She watched silently as her mother weighed a decision. Ruby knew the instant it was done. Mrs. Tremaine pulled her shoulders back, palmed the necklace, and hid her hands in the folds of her skirt. “One day you’ll understand. Now, please, finish getting dressed.”

A small sound escaped Ruby’s lips. Her feet remained where they were. The door closed with a firmness that echoed around the room, and a hollowness expanded within her.

There was only one way to get back what was hers.



* * *



—

Ruby stood in the foyer beside her mother, a smile plastered on her face. Her jaw ached from the words she kept to herself and the pleasantries forced out instead. Good behavior—it was her only hope. She watched their party guests as they glided across the foyer under the vaulted ceiling. The women wore their hair high and their gowns long, escorted by gentlemen in finely tailored tuxedos. A live band played, waiters offered champagne and hors d’oeuvres on silver trays, and a hundred lanterns decorated the patio outside.

It was a glamorous affair, but all Ruby could think was: Could they see the darkened paper where the work of an old master once hung? Her mother had told everyone it was on loan to some distant museum. “Isn’t it grand how Mr. Tremaine supports the arts?” they said. But Ruby wondered if they whispered behind their backs, “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” Running for office was one thing, but going penniless as a result was another. She fought the urge to reach for the necklace she knew wasn’t there.

“Could you at least look like you are enjoying yourself?” her mother said behind a smile.

“I would enjoy it more if I had my necklace,” she muttered.

“You can be sure it’ll be sold by the end of next week.” Her mother gave her a pointed look.

Ruby knew it would be a lot easier once she lost herself in the music and the crowd. With a glass of champagne to calm her nerves and banish the sour feelings settling in her gut.

She escaped the receiving line the first chance she got and deftly fielded questions about her plans for the summer as she hunted for a sparkling cocktail.

Olivia seems to be enjoying herself, she thought. Her best friend and Mr. Lawrence were the talk of the ball. She was happy for her, really, she was. But earlier that day, Ruby had suffered another lecture from her parents about making the most of this night with John. So here she was, and yet John was nowhere to be seen. Rather, Ruby was stuck with Louis Greenfield, a childhood friend who did nothing but talk about racehorses.

When John finally walked through the door, a hush fell over the room as if every single lady, with the exception of his own sisters, held her breath. The tuxedo hugged his shoulders and concealed the muscles moving beneath. John was the most sought-after bachelor in the room, and yet he carried himself in such a carefree way, it was hard to determine whether he was simply oblivious or couldn’t be bothered with such nonsense. Either way, it made him even more magnetic.

Ruby placed her empty glass of champagne on the table and knifed her way through the crowd. The beads of her dress clinked at her heels. She arrived at his elbow a few steps before the doe-eyed daughter of one of her father’s new city council friends.

John turned at her touch on his forearm. The dimple in his cheek set her heart to fluttering. The smell of soap and aftershave still clung to his skin. She was glad for the shawl hanging over her elbows—it gave her something to keep her hands busy.

“How lovely of you to join us,” she said, cringing inside. She had meant to sound teasing but it came off chiding.

Thankfully, John didn’t seem to notice. He smiled. “I’m sorry, Ruby. I lost track of time. Working on a new project,” he said by way of explanation.

“I admire your dedication,” she said. “I hope to one day find something I love as much as you do automobiles.” Ruby adjusted the pin in his lapel, leaning close to make the most of how her reconstructed dress hugged her body.

“Would you like to dance?” she suggested at the same time John asked, “Have you seen Helen?”

“No,” she said, disappointed by this question. She tried to think of something, anything, to keep him near. “I can help you look for her? Perhaps she’s in the garden.” She thought of the maze and the privacy it would offer them.

“I appreciate the offer, Ruby,” he said, still searching the room. “But you have guests. I would hate to take you away from them.” He pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “You look lovely tonight, by the way.”

A small sound escaped Ruby’s mouth as she searched for the words that would persuade him to stay. But before she knew it, she was alone at the edge of the dance floor, staring at John’s back as he moved to the opposite side. She felt the stinging glare of her mother from the couches of gentleladies near the fireplace.

Ruby kept her face calm while she reached for a glass of champagne, and upended the drink after her mother finally turned away. The champagne was tart and fizzy, the complete opposite of how Ruby felt. She wondered if there was a ladylike way to retrieve the strawberry stuck at the bottom of the flute. Not that anyone was paying any real attention to her. Olivia and Mr. Lawrence twirled across her parents’ “modest” ballroom, as Mrs. Davenport had put it, drawing the gazes and sighs of all in attendance. Even Helen had captured more attention when she first arrived, dressed in a faint pink gown that swayed beautifully as she’d stomped from table to table looking for someone to sneak her a cigarette.