A Gilded Grave Read Online Free PDF

all about him. She was escorted into supper by Herbert Stanhope.
    The Woodruff dining room had been transformed into a sea of small round tables set for intimate conversations. A buffet table, so crowded that the silver chafing dishes sat almost edge to edge, lined the entirety of one wall. On another table, fresh fruit and sweets were arranged artistically around an ice sculpture that surely would melt before supper was over.
    Herbert seated Deanna at a table with Cassie and Vlady Howe, scion of the Boston Howes and the object of Cassie’s latest flirtation, before going off to the buffet to fill their plates.
    Deanna was surprised to see Charles Woodruff seating Madeline Manchester at one table while Adelaide was seated at another with Colonel Morrell, an older British gentleman staying with his son’s family in town. Adelaide looked paler than ever and bored, though Deanna couldn’t fault her for that. The colonel did tend to ramble.
    Shouldn’t Adelaide be seated next to Charles?
Of course, husbands and wives usually sat with some other acquaintance at dinner—not with each other. Her father was seated at a larger table with Mrs. Woodruff and Mrs. Van Alen; her mother with Tessie Oehlrich and two gentlemen who Deanna couldn’t see.
    But Charles and Adelaide weren’t married yet. And it seemed like they’d had no time at all together this evening, what with Charles’s duties as host. Deanna felt a little sorry for her sister. It seemed to her that Charles had been paying too much attention to Madeline during the evening and not enough to his fiancée.
    The supper was delicious, with crab cakes and lobster roulade, cresses, asparagus, and boeuf anglais. Deanna let Herbert fill her champagne glass twice, though she kept in mind her mother’s admonitions not to drink or eat to excess. Dessert was a glacé of mint and tiny cakes that melted in her mouth.
    After supper, the ladies adjourned upstairs to freshen up while the men took the opportunity to have a port and a cigar or cigarette out on the terrace.
    Deanna found Cassie and Madeline already in the withdrawing room.
    “Look. I’ve torn my hem and no one can find my maid,” Madeline said.
    “I told you to watch out for Dr. Morrison,” Cassie said. “He’s notorious for stepping on his dance partner’s feet.”
    “Better my feet than my hem,” Madeline said. “What am I going to do?” She sank onto a nearby chaise.
    “I’ll send for Elspeth,” Deanna said. “She’s a dream with a needle.”
    Elspeth appeared a short time later, carrying her sewing basket.
    “Oh, you are a dear,” Madeline told Deanna, and stood for Elspeth to examine the damage.
    “Just hold still for a moment,” Elspeth said, and knelt to repair the fabric. It was only a few minutes before she stood and fluffed Lady Madeline’s skirts. “There, almost as good as new.”
    “Oh, thank you, Deanna.”
    Deanna smiled perfunctorily. “It’s Elspeth you should be thanking.”
    “Oh, yes, she was wonderful,” Madeline agreed.
    “Will there be anything else, miss?” Elspeth asked.
    “Not at the moment,” Deanna said. “I seem to still be put together.”
    Elspeth curtseyed and left the room.
    The three girls returned downstairs, where the orchestra had resumed playing and the floor was soon filled with dancing couples. The room became unbearably hot, just as Deanna’s mother had predicted.
    Between dances, Deanna stood near the French doors to catch a whiff of breeze. She was standing there when Cassie grabbed her hand. Her face was red against her pink dress.
    “It’s sweltering. Everyone’s going out to the terrace. Come with me.”
    Deanna didn’t need any persuasion. The thought of the mild ocean air had her moving through the French doors with alacrity. But once outside, she hesitated. “My mother . . .”
    “Is an old fogey. Everyone under thirty is outside. And some of the old folks are, too.” She nudged Deanna farther onto the terrace. “Whew! That’s