Forever (9 page)

‘It's beautiful, Daddy. I've never seen anything so lovely. Not ever.'

Charles Lafayette smiled indulgently. ‘It will have to be returned to the bank vault after this evening, I'm afraid. It's much too valuable to be kept in the house.'

‘But I can wear it tonight, Daddy, can't I?' Her pretty face was anxious.

He laughed. ‘Of course you may, darling. Tonight you're going to be a princess.'

She kissed his cheek and then sat, long after he had left the breakfast room, gazing at the breathtaking stones that encircled her wrist. Her mother, too, must have sat thus, overwhelmed at the beauty that had been given to her. Love welled up in her. Love for the mother she had never known. Love for her father. Love for Bradley. Tonight was going to be wonderful. The most wonderful night of her life.

‘Now you sit still so I don't muss up your hair,' Allie chided, slipping the billowing confection of taffeta and tulle over Augusta's head. ‘My, my, but this surely is some dress. I reckon even Kreeger's don't get dresses in like this.'

‘This dress is a Dior original,' Gussie said, stepping in front of her full-length mirror and turning first one way and then another. ‘Isn't is gorgeous, Allie? Have you ever seen anything so divine?'

‘I can't say that I have,' Allie said truthfully, surveying the delicately ruched bodice of pale lemon, the shoulder straps so fine that they seemed non-existent.

Gussie twirled around and the layered ballerina skirts of hand embroidered tulle floated ethereally around her like a cloud. Ecstatically she slipped her sheer stockinged feet into a pair of white satin slippers. Her nails were laquered palest pink, her lips glossed prettily. On her wrist the bracelet sparkled and shone. She looked a million dollars and knew it.

Tingling with excitement she gave one last look in the mirror and walked slowly out onto the landing and towards the head of the curving staircase.

Bradley was at the foot and the expression in his eyes sent a warm flush to her cheeks. Her father and Tina stood beside him and there was a concerted intake of breath from the assembled household staff as she appeared. Horatio, the chauffeur, began to sing ‘Happy Birthday'and everyone, her father included, joined in.

Almost shyly she descended the stairs and was given birthday kisses from every member of the staff, from Louis, the butler, to Sabina Royal, the cook.

Orchids and roses and freesias banked the marble hallway, the scent heady in the early evening air. Outside thousands of the same plants had been specially bedded so that St Michel's vast grounds were a symphony of white blossom interspersed with twinkling fairylights.

The breath caught in the back of Bradley's throat as he took her hand. She had never looked more beautiful. Happiness seemed to radiate from her. The glow in her eyes put the jewels on her wrist to shame. Her hair gleamed like spun gold. She was the princess from the fairy stories of his childhood. He wanted to kiss her more than he had wanted anything else in the world but he could not. Her father was watching them benignly. Her guests were waiting.

‘I love you,' he whispered to her as they stepped outside and the band began to play. ‘I could no more live without you than cease to breathe.'

Her fingers interlocked with his. The heat of his body seemed to flare through her. ‘Happy Birthday'was being sung again. She was inundated with presents and good wishes. She laughed and smiled and wished that she were alone with Bradley. Desire had sprung up in her like a flame. She wanted more than kisses and caresses. She wanted to be made love to. She wanted to belong to Bradley body and soul.

‘Darling Augusta, you look absolutely wonderful,' Natalie Jefferson gushed, kissing her on both cheeks.

‘That dress!' Eden's mother said wonderingly. ‘I've never seen anything so exquisite. Did it come from New York?'

‘Paris,' Gussie said, removing herself from a warm embrace and moving on to pay her respects to her Lafayette relations as Mrs Alexander watched her with envy in her eyes.

‘Paris,' she whispered to her husband. ‘Can you imagine it? A Paris gown at eighteen.'

‘Very pretty,' her husband agreed, his eyes straying appreciatively over the scores of young girls who flocked around like so many butterfliès.

Eden was wearing a searing pink gown of shot silk taffeta, strapless and ruched with such full skirts that it was impossible for her to sit down. Mae was unexpectedly pretty in a pale-blue, demurely high-necked dress that fell in soft folds over her full hips. A Burmese pearl necklace was her only jewellery and Austin escorted her proudly. Mae was evolving her own style of dressing and it was one that suited her. Desirée Ashington had abandoned demureness altogether. Her figure-hugging black dress was split to the navel, revealing a cleavage that left Mr Alexander breathless.

The cream of New Orleans society glided in and out of the lavish marquee, the men elegant in tuxedos, the women alluring in diaphanous pastels.

Family heirlooms had been removed from vaults and safes. Diamonds and rubies vied with amethysts and pearls. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets, brooches, studs and pendants glittered and shone.

The band struck up the first waltz of the evening and Bradley led Gussie away from her doting relatives. He held her closely in his arms, dancing her round and round as the evening sky took on a bluish tinge and the first sprinkling of stars began to gleam. Her breasts rose temptingly from the bodice of her gown.

‘Do you know what you do to my temperature dancing next to me half-naked?' Bradley said, tightening his arms around her.

‘Sssh,' Gussie giggled. ‘Someone will hear you.'

His lips brushed her temples and she closed her eyes blissfully. She was the envy of all her friends. The luckiest girl in New Orleans.

The waltz changed to a quickstep, a foxtrot, a waltz again. Reluctantly Bradley released her and allowed her to dance with a procession of uncles and cousins. Dusk turned to night. Fireflies danced amongst the trees; a galaxy of fairylights illuminated St Michel's lawns as dance followed dance.

With a flourish Charles Lafayette bade the musicians refresh themselves with pink champagne and ordered that the firework display should begin.

There were gasps of delight and screams of pleasure as giant Roman candles whoosed into the air, scattering golden rain; as enormous Catherine wheels spun in galaxies of colour; as rockets trailed crimson streaks across the sky. Then, as everyone laughingly held flaring sparklers, Gussie's birthday cake was brought ceremoniously from the house. Circled by hundreds of relatives and friends Gussie cut the first piece and then, as the last of the fireworks died away, entered Bradley's arms as the band began to play ‘Blue Moon'.

‘Happy, sweetheart?' he asked tenderly, his lips touching her ivory-pale hair.

‘Oh yes!' Her eyes shone as she lifted her face to his.

Her lips were parted. Soft and inviting. Unheeding of the guests who danced and laughed and chatted around them Bradley lowered his head to hers. Joy surged through her. She loved him so much it was a physical pain. Slowly he lifted his head from hers, his teasing blue eyes dark with need.

‘I love you, Gussie. I shall always love you.'

She traced the strong outline of his jaw with her fingertips ‘I love you, too, Brad. And I shall forever and forever and for—'

One moment his face was above her and the next it was spiralling into the distance. She was falling amidst a vortex of brilliant colours and black rushing winds. She tried to call his name but no sound would come from her throat. The colours clashed and seared against the back of her eyes. The wind deafened her, sucking her down so that she could hardly breathe. Vainly her hands sought to hold on to him and failed. The colours vanished. Only darkness remained.

‘Gussie!'
He seized hold of her as she fell, scooping her up into his arms, and ran white-faced through the mass of startled dancers and towards the house.

‘What happened? Did Gussie faint?'

‘I've never seen anything like it. She went out like a light.'

‘Is she sick? What if …'

The music faltered and, at a frantic signal from Tina Lafayette, continued playing, barely audible above the buzz of speculation.

‘Find Dr Meredith,' Charles Lafayette snapped, hurrying after Bradley as he carried an unconscious Gussie into the main drawing room. ‘He was down near the pool. Get him here immediately!'

As Bradley laid her on a sofa, Gussie moaned, her lashes fluttering, her carefully manicured hands reaching up to her throat as if it had been bruised.

‘Water,' Bradley ordered a dazed aunt, without releasing his hold on Gussie or taking his eyes from her face. ‘Fetch her some water.'

Charles Lafayette moved forward, attempting to take his daughter from Bradley's grasp. Bradley ignored him as if he were no more than one of the guests. The glass of water was proffered over the shoulders of over a dozen anxious relatives.

‘Here, sweetheart. Drink this.' Gently Bradley lifted her head.

The long lashes stirred again and then opened, wide dark eyes staring around in frightened bewilderment.

‘I'm here, Gussie.'

Her eyes met his and she sobbed, flinging her arms around his neck, sending the glass of water flying to the floor. ‘Oh Brad! Brad! Hold me! Please hold me!'

Charles Lafayette cleared his throat and wished to God there weren't so many witnesses to his daughter's distress.

‘What happened, darling?' He was rocking her in his arms with the tenderness of absolute love.

‘I don't know. I suddenly felt so cold and sick …'

Dr Meredith pushed his way through Lafayettes and Delatours and knelt at the side of the sofa. With strong, capable hands he felt her pulse, took her temperature and then rose to his feet with a sign of relief. From the garbled message he had received, he had expected to find Gussie on the point of death. Already the colour was returning to her cheeks.

‘A faint,' he said reassuringly to Charles Lafayette, and then, echoing the words of the elderly cousin, pronounced, ‘Too much excitement. There's nothing to worry about.'

Gussie sipped at the water and gazed at him with anxious eyes. ‘Can I go back outside, Dr Meredith? I feel all right now. Truly I do.'

Jim Meredith smiled. ‘I'd be the last one to spoil your party, Augusta. As soon as you feel the strength return to your legs you can go and continue dancing. But no champagne!'

Gussie managed a tremulous smile. ‘I promise.'

A new expression entered her eyes. ‘You don't think people will think it was the champagne that caused me to faint, do you? I've had only two glasses and I don't think I finished either of them.'

‘They'd better not,' Charles Lafayette said grimly. ‘Are you sure she should continue dancing, Jim? Wouldn't it be safer if she went to bed?'

‘At my birthday party?' Gussie cried, swinging her legs off the sofa. ‘Daddy, you couldn't be so mean!'

Jim Meredith patted Charled Lafayette on the shoulder. ‘She's all right, Charles. Believe me. If I thought there was the slightest cause for alarm I'd order her to bed, party or no party.'

Gussie rose determinedly to her feet, supported by Bradley's steadying arm.

‘I'm fine, really I am. Just a little wobbly, and that will pass off in a minute. Mae is
always
fainting. I used to think it quite romantic, but I don't any longer. It's hideous.'

‘Here's a shawl for you, darling,' Tina Lafayette said, handing her a gossamer-light, delicately fringed wrap.

Gussie laughed. ‘No thank you, Cousin Tina. I don't need a shawl yet. I'll save that for my eightieth birthday party, not my eighteenth.' She grasped Bradley's hand. ‘Don't look so worried, Brad. It was just a silly faint. Let's go out and dance. I don't want to waste another moment.'

Charles Lafayette mopped his brow and followed them into the balmy night air. For one dreadful moment he'd thought the party he'd planned for so long was going to have to be abruptly curtailed. He reached for a cigar, the anxiety fading as he smoked it and watched Gussie laughingly reassure her friends as to her health, and dance joyfully with first Bradley, then Austin Merriweather, then Jason Shreve and then Bradley again.

The modern gyrations of the young gave way to rousing formation dances at which even he joined in. Gussie led the reels, hands clapping, eyes shining, swirling deftly with first one partner and then another. As the night hours merged into those of early dawn, the music slowed and closely clasped couples swayed together to the soft strains of Gershwin and Cole Porter, satin and silken hems trailing in the dew-wet grass.

Bradley kissed her lingeringly. ‘It's bedtime, princess,' he said at last, raising his head from hers, his voice catching in his throat as he gazed down at the soft sensuous contours of her mouth, the shining mass of her hair and the dark depths of her eyes.

She smiled wickedly. ‘Won't you join me?' she whispered.

There was a hot flush at the back of his eyes and his arms tightened around her so that she gasped in delight.

‘Another two months, and you won't be able to tease me any longer, Augusta Lafayette. I'll have you wherever and whenever I please.'

She giggled, silencing him with her lips, feeling her spine melt and her bones turn to water. He could have her now, right there on the lawn if he wanted, and he knew it. The fact that he didn't do so only made her want him more. Sex with Bradley was going to be glorious and she had only until October to wait until they were married. She sighed, wishing that he wasn't quite so adamant about her retaining her virtue until then. He hadn't cared about Mae's virtue, or the virtue of the scores of other girls he had dated. But then, she reminded herself as they began to stroll hand in hand back to the house, he hadn't been in love with them. He hadn't wanted to marry them.