“He made two basic claims. The first is fairly obvious. They have a strong connection with the spiritual realm.”
Obvious, sure. But ironic, too. Jude Vandenberg hasn’t exactly lived his life like one strongly connected to the spiritual realm.
“The second is a lot more interesting,” Twig continues. “They’re able to wield the supernatural.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“He didn’t go into detail, but I thought maybe … objects?”
We stare at one another.
Objects.
Like the gemstones?
Before either of us have a chance to comment on Rafe and his determination to wield said gemstones, familiar voices intrude. Kate and her boyfriend exchange heated words as they walk through the rose garden.
“She saw you in the hedge maze together,” Kate says.
“She’s lying,” Harrison replies.
“Why would Lainey lie to me?”
Their voices fade as they walk away.
A few songs later, I run into Lainey exiting the powder room, her hand on the ruby amulet, and I swear, it looks brighter. When I open the door, a girl sniffles inside. “Why would she say something like that?”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean it,” another replies.
Back in the ballroom, Lainey’s dancing again. A group of girls stand in the shadow, shooting daggers at her and the boy. I remain on the periphery, observing. Suspicious. Lainey is pouring gasoline on emotions that are already fraught—insecurity, jealousy, desire. Everything feels heightened. Like one wrong spark and the whole night will explode.
I don’t get it.
Lainey was so excited to come to the ball with Rafe, and yet they haven’t danced together since the opening number. Neither have Jude and I, for that matter. Ever since Rafe made his comment, a frost settled around Jude that has yet to thaw.
I spot him near the stairs with his mask in place. He stands tall, his posture refined, effortlessly dignified as he converses with Cosette Everly of the Preservation Society, Mayor Ridley, Isabel, and Rafe.
I weave between the dancers and slip into the conversation, my arm but a whisper from Jude’s. The urge to touch him, to anchor myself to his presence, throbs beneath my skin. The air between us throbs, too. And yet, he’s drawn himself tight, like a line I’m not allowed to cross.
“I must admit, this is a smashing success, Isabel,” Mayor Ridley says. “People were a little hesitant with the change of venue. Of course, there will always be the naysayers, but I don’t see how anyone here tonight could argue with this atmosphere.”
“It really does feel like we’ve stepped back in time.” Cosette casts her gaze upward, from the ornate chandeliers dripping with crystals to the carved cherubs on the cornices while the stringed quartet plays and the costumed guests glide across the floor. “I’m delighted you petitioned to move the event. Town hall pales in comparison.”
“I must give credit where credit is due,” Isabel replies. “I never would have thought of the idea if not for Rafe’s insistence. In fact, it’s thanks to Rafe that Jude and I are here at all.”
The words come like a scratch to vinyl.
I can feel Jude react beside me.
Thanks to Rafe?
“He was very adamant that we join him here in Foggy Hollow for the festivities, and even more so when it came to hosting the ball in our manor.”
Rafe smiles. “Yes, well, what’s the point of being part of such a prominent legacy if we don’t open it up to the masses?”
“If only everyone felt the same,” Cosette says, her lip curling in the direction of the Bogaards, making me wonder what they could have done to offend her. “It’s a very generous position to take.”
“Says a very generous lady,” Rafe replies. “You and your husband both.” His attention connects with Henry Everly in his burgundy cravat, conversing with Loraine Pritchard, a pretty woman in her forties who sings in the choir at St. Oswald’s. “It’s touching to me, that he and his cousin are so close.” He claps Jude on the shoulder. “It gives me hope that Jude and I might be the same someday.”
