The Luxe Read Online Free PDF

interrupted the survey of costumes. Teddy, with his blond hair and sparkly blue eyes and inherited shipping fortune, was just the sort of boy Penelope had been flirting with at balls since she’d come into society two years ago. Teddy had a crush on Elizabeth Holland, which was the real reason Penelope always made a point of dancing with him. She watched as the young women, with their great starched skirts and puffed sleeves, flocked to Teddy, who bowed gallantly and went about kissing each of their gloved hands.
    “Teddy looks yummy.” Isaac let one hand float up to his chin. “He chose French courtier like everybody else, but he did do it well.”
    “Well enough,” Penelope replied nonchalantly, for wherever Teddy went, there was usually a certain someone even better just behind. She snapped her fingers at one of the passing waiters, balled up the note she had received earlier in the day, and dropped it into her empty champagne glass. She placed her glass on his tray without meeting his eyes and then helped herself to two more flutes.
    That was when Henry Schoonmaker strode through the arched entryway at the far end of the ballroom and the whole world seemed to faint just a little bit. Penelope kept herself upright, even as her heart began to beat triumphantly and her face tingle in anticipation. Even among the dashing and rich, Henry Schoonmaker stood out for being so beautiful and so slippery at once. He came to his friend Teddy’s side, and Penelope rolled her eyes as he began kissing the flurry of gloved hands as well.
    Henry always looked in good humor and good health—which was due in part to his penchant for outdoor sports and in part to the drink that was his constant accessory—and even from across the largest private ballroom in New York City, the tanned perfection of his skin was evident. He had the shoulders of a general and the cheekbones of a born aristocrat, and his mouth was most often fixed in an expression of mild mockery. Like Elizabeth Holland, Henry was the descendant of one of New York’s great families, but he was much, much less concerned with being good .
    “Those girls are embarrassing themselves,” Penelope remarked of her cousins and friends below. She ran her fingers over her slick dark hair, which was parted sharply along the middle of her scalp and drawn down to the nape of her neck, framing the perfect oval of her face. Intricate silver filigreed combs fanned out behind her head. “I think I’m going to gosave our friend,” she added, as though the thought had just occurred to her.
    Then she gathered up the yards of red crepe de chine covering her legs and began to glide toward the curving marble staircase.
    “Buckie,” she called, a few steps down the stairway. She turned to meet his eyes with a look of particular intensity.
    “That’s the man I’m going to marry.”
    Isaac raised his champagne flute, and Penelope beamed with her declaration. How could she fail when she had somebody as wily as IPB on her side? Penelope turned back down the stairs and in a few moments she was standing on the main floor of her ballroom. A reverential hush settled on the room as the faces in the crowd turned toward her in a wave. Amongst all the white satin and powdered wigs, her red dress made her stand out even more than usual. She cut through the group of girls she had just pronounced fools and reached Henry Schoonmaker in a few breathless moments.
    “Who let you in?” She greeted him without a smile. She placed her fist on her hip, causing the gold, gypsy-style bracelets to clatter down her wrist. “ You’re not wearing a costume. And it said very clearly on your invitation that this was to be a costume ball.”
    Henry turned to her with a face of casual amusement, not even bothering with a faux self-conscious examination ofhis black tails and trousers. “Have I done wrong, Miss Hayes? See, I don’t have time to read my mail anymore, but a little bird told me you would be having a