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The night of the ball, Alfred knocked on my door. "Sir? Do you require any assistance?" he asked as I swung the door open.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I was dressed in a black long-tailed coat and tie, with my hair slicked back. I looked older, more confident.
Alfred followed my gaze. "Looking smart, sir," he allowed.
"Thank you. I'm ready," I said, my heart fluttering in excitement. Last night, Katherine had teased me mercilessly, not giving me any clues as to what she was going to wear. I couldn't wait to see her. I knew she'd be the most beautiful girl at the ball. More important, she was mine.
I headed down the stairs, relieved that Damon was nowhere to be found. I wondered whether he was attending the Founders Ball with some of his army friends or perhaps one of the town's girls. He'd been distant lately, impossible to find in the morning and at the tavern at night.
Outside, the horses were pawing at the drive. I entered the waiting coach, which clip-clopped its way to the carriage house.
I glanced out the window, and noticed Katherine and Emily standing at the front door. Emily wore a simple black silk dress, but Katherine . . .
I had to press my back into the carriage seat to keep from jumping out of the moving coach. Her dress was emerald green, nipping in at the waist dress was emerald green, nipping in at the waist before flowing over her hips. The bodice was low and tight and showed off her creamy white skin, and her hair was pulled back on the top of her head, exposing her graceful, swan-like neck.
The second Alfred pulled back on the horses' reins, I opened the door of the coach and hopped out, smiling broadly as Katherine's eyes caught mine.
"Stefan!" Katherine breathed, lifting her skirts slightly as she glided down the stairs.
"Katherine. " I gently kissed her cheek before I offered my arm to her. Together, we turned and walked toward the carriage, where Alfred stood with the door open.
The road to Mystic Falls was filled with unfamiliar coaches of all shapes and sizes, leading to the Lockwood mansion on the far end of town. I felt a thrill of anticipation. This was the first time I'd ever escorted a girl to the Founders Ball. In all previous years, I'd spent most of the evenings playing poker with my friends. Invariably some sort of disaster happened. Last year, Matthew Hartnett had gotten drunk on whiskey and had accidentally unhitched the horses from his parents' coach, and two years ago, Nathan Layman had gotten into a fistfight with Grant Vanderbilt, and both ended up with broken noses.
We slowly made our way up to the mansion, finally reaching the front walk. Alfred stopped the horses and let us out. I laced my fingers with Katherine's, and together we walked through the open doors of the mansion and headed toward the dining room.
The high-ceilinged room had been cleared of all furniture, and the candlelight lent a warm, mysterious glow to the walls. A band in the corner played Irish reels, and couples were already beginning to dance, even though the night was young. I squeezed Katherine's hand, and she smiled up at me.
"Stefan!" I whirled around and saw Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright. I dropped Katherine's hand immediately.
Mrs. Cartwright's eyes were red, and she was positively gaunt compared to the last time I saw her. Meanwhile, Mr. Cartwright seemed to have aged ten years. His hair was snow-white, and he was walking with the aid of a cane. Both wore purple sprigs of vervain--a tuft stuck out of Mr. Cartwright's breast pocket, and the flowers were woven into Mrs. Cartwright's hat--but other than that, they were clad entirely in black, for mourning.
"Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright," I said, my stomach clenching with guilt. In truth, I'd nearly forgotten that Rosalyn and I had been engaged. "It's good to see you. "
"Y could have seen us sooner if you'd come
ou to call on us," Mr. Cartwright said. He could barely hide the contempt in his voice when his gaze landed on Katherine. "But I understand you must have been in deep . . . grief as well. "
"I will come now that I know you're taking visitors," I said lamely, tugging at my collar, which suddenly felt quite tight around my neck.
"No need," Mrs. Cartwright said icily as she reached into her sleeve to pull out a handkerchief.
Katherine clasped Mrs. Cartwright's hand. Mrs. Cartwright looked down, an expression of shock on her face. A wave of apprehension ran through me, and I fought the urge to step between them and shield Katherine from their anger.
But then Katherine smiled, and amazingly, both Cartwrights smiled back. "Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright, I am so sorry for your loss," she said warmly, holding their gazes. "I lost my parents during the Atlanta siege, and I know how hard it is. I didn't know Rosalyn well, but I do know she will never be forgotten. "
Mrs. Cartwright blew her nose noisily, her eyes watering. "Thank you, dear," she said reverentially.
Mr. Cartwright patted his wife on the back. "Y thank you. " He turned to me, compassion
es, replacing the scorn that had occupied his eyes just moments earlier. "And please take care of Stefan. I know he's suffering. "
Katherine smiled as the couple rejoined the crowd.
I gaped in amazement. "Did you compel them? " I asked, the word tasting bitter in my mouth.
"No!" Katherine placed her hand over her heart. "That was good, old-fashioned kindness. Now, let's dance," she said, tugging me toward the large ballroom. Luckily, the dance floor was a crush of bodies and the lighting was low, so it was almost impossible to make out specific people. Flower garlands hung from the ceiling, and the marble floor was waxed to a sheen. The air was hot and cloying, with the scent of hundreds of competing perfumes.
I put my hand on Katherine's shoulders and tried to relax into the waltz. But I still felt jumpy. The conversation with the Cartwrights had stirred my conscience, making me feel vaguely disloyal to Rosalyn's memory, and to Damon. Had I betrayed him somehow by not telling him that Katherine and I were at the ball together? Was it wrong that I'd been grateful for his prolonged absences?
