The Lost Hearts (7 page)

A collective gasp clapped Alexis’ ears as she wiggled helplessly
within the tight encasing of her gown.  She would have cheerfully parted with any limb to slip under that rug and vanish.  Just as she summoned the courage to open her eyes, Philip broke through the crowd and scooped her up.  Alexis nearly wilted when she saw his face.  That triumphant smile had closed itself into tight line. 
He’s ashamed of me
, she thought with a mixture of devastation and defiance. 

“That was quite an entrance,” Alexi
s heard from the sideline of her grand debut.

“Thanks,” Alexis breathed into Phillip’s ear as she regained her balance against his solid frame.  He remained silent, and Alexis watched the rigid set of his jaw.

Margaret rose slowly from her spot on the settee, her face cold and expressionless.   “My dear, how charming you look tonight.  Philip promised we wouldn’t be disappointed.”  She spoke reservedly with the aristocratic Boston accent Alexis had never deemed as particularly pleasing. 

Oh, I’
m fine.  Thank you for asking
, Alexis sniped inwardly.  She smoothed her dress and patted her hair in exaggerated self-mockery.  “Thank you, Mrs. Talbot.  I almost didn’t make it in one piece.”  Alexis laughed nervously, pinching one of the minute crystals suspended from the dress between her clammy fingers.  “This is truly a lovely party.”

“Ah, yes…well, we spare no expense for such occasions,” Margaret answered matter-of-factly.
  “Please, sit down.”

Alexis glanced skeptically
at her gown.  “I’m not sure if I can sit in this thing.  One improperly timed breath and this will split down the middle.”  Alexis motioned awkwardly at her breasts.  “Then you’ll really have a story.”  Margaret’s brows cinched with displeasure.  Unnerved, Alexis cleared her throat and promptly claimed a spot on the couch.  A waiter moved close and Alexis snatched a second glass of champagne.  She was thankful to preoccupy her fidgeting hands, if not to dull the acute suspicion that she was totally out of place.

Margaret Talbot had always been civil to Alexis, though their interactions had never su
rpassed the superficial.  She was keenly aware that behind her back Margaret disapproved, often vocally, of the match.  She had heard whispers of her attempts to introduce Philip to better bred women who shared similar, prestigious origins.  Alexis wondered what Philip could have said to mollify her. 

Alexis could think of
nothing to say.  The void in her mind terrified her and she suddenly felt it was her mortal mission to produce some sort of conversation, even if terrifically banal.  Her eyes darted anxiously.  Just a few seats away she spotted some classmates from university.  She would never have believed herself to feel relieved upon seeing them, but she smiled awkwardly at them in hopes of initiating some exchange.  The young men, elegant in their suits and smoking expensive, imported cigarettes, nodded their heads soberly at Alexis. 

Alexis was desperate.  Any conversation would do.  Sh
e began to fantasize about her father at the punch bowl when she heard a steely voice.  “Tell me, Alexis.  Do all women of your generation work as you do?  I find it so peculiar,” Margaret’s commanding voice boomed from her ample bosom.

Alexis’
head swiveled to watch her as she inserted her own cigarette in the end of an ornate gold holder.  A butler appeared in an obsequious bow to light it, and the tip blazed scarlet as she drew the silvery smoke deep into her lungs. 

“I’m not sure what you mean.”  Alexis struggled to steady her voice. 
Margaret Talbot’s presumption shocked her, but she wasn’t about to show this sudden adversary her cards. 

A puzzled expression darkened the woman’s face. “Why, it’s obvious, is it not?  You’ve other things to think about as a young woman.”   Her voice chilled, and she spoke as though she’d observed a universal truth.  Thin streams of white smoke shot from her mouth, and she tapped the gold-tubed cigarette over a wide, crystal ashtray.

The champagne had begun to take effect, and Alexis felt her lips tingle, her head a little dizzy.  Margaret Talbot had never so boldly confronted her.  Dumbfounded, she sat speechless for a moment, debating how to proceed before the grand inquisitor.  Finally Alexis spoke with calm resolve.  “My life is perfectly balanced.  There is nothing about being a woman that deters me from pursuing my interests any more than it should, say, Philip.  My work has always been a natural part of my life and I expect it to remain that way.”  Satisfied that her answer could neither offend Margaret, nor invite further comment, Alexis dared to look her in the eyes.

Margaret offered no sign of conciliation.  Her face was locked into a wintry grimace and she narrowed her coal-lined lids.  “Apparently you have a more contemporary idea of what it means to be a woman.  Why, it’s very strange that you should want to spend your time in an office as though you were a man.
”  Alexis shuddered as Margaret’s words congealed in the air between them. 

Philip stood just a few feet away, engaged in quiet conversation with his young cousin.  Alexis bit down hard, attempting telepathy to catch his attention.  She knew she was trapped, that her only escape was to tell Margaret what she wanted to hear.  Her mouth opened, preparing to lie, but the middle-aged socialite persisted.

“I must say I’m quite astonished.  Philip led me to believe that your activities at the Society were temporary.  But I can see now that I’ve been misled.” 

Hearing his name, Philip turned slightly as though to eavesdrop.  Alexis could see him minding the couch from the corner of his eye.  She widened her eyes to signal her distress, but he made no movement.

Astonished that Margaret presumed to map out the details of their relationship, Alexis’ eyes flared with anger.  She felt the neckline of her dress strain dangerously beneath the defiance ballooning in her chest.  “You do bring up a good point, Margaret,” Alexis remarked, waging an epic battle to stay the impatience from commandeering her voice.  “It does seem there is some confusion.  I’m sure your son will be happy to clear this up with you.”

Suddenly Philip knelt down before them with a nervous grin.  “I thought I heard my two favorite ladies talking about me.” 
His tone reeked of intervention, but Alexis didn’t mind.  She latched onto the interruption with indiscreet gratitude.  “Mother, you’re monopolizing my date,” he laughed.  “Do you mind if I steal her for a dance?  You ought to find father and enjoy this band while the night is young.”

Alexis nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes, I think that’s a wonderful idea.”  Shooting up, her head spun from the champagne and she teetered in her black t-strap heels.
  Philip rescued her, his arm girdling her back.  Margaret sat motionless on the sofa, her jowls rigid.  Philip bent to whisper something indecipherable to his mother, and before whisking Alexis away, kissed her on the cheek.

“What was
that
, Philip?” Alexis cried as they maneuvered their way through the tangled mass of tipsy guests. 

“Oh, it
’s nothing.  Don’t worry about my mother.  I think the excitement of the party has upset her nerves.” 

Alexis stopped, standing stubbornly in place.  With a suspicious arch of her brow, she folded her arms across her chest.  “I mean it, Philip.  Your mother has never been so…aggressive.  She sounded exceptionally surprised to hear that work is such an important part of my life, and that I have no intention of leaving it.  And why does she care so much?  It’s not like we’re getting married.
And even if-” 

Philip
groaned and took her shoulders in his hands.  “Alexis, please forget it.  You know she’s very traditional.  I promise I’ll talk to her about it soon.” 

“You promise?” 

“Cross my heart.  Can we dance now?”

“I’d love to.” 

Despite the disquieting insight Margaret’s comments had given Alexis, she wanted desperately to believe Philip.  That he never coated the truth in shame, or painted a more acceptable picture of her to his friends and family.  She wanted to believe what his eyes were expressing as he fixed her with a hard, loving gaze.  It overpowered her senses, and she locked her hand in his.  She would forget it, for now.

On the raised hardwood dance floor, men and women moved in synchronization to a sweet, nostalgic melody.  Their bodies pressed close, arms bound tightly around each other, cheek grazing cheek.  The band was ten men strong, and they watched contentedly as the slow, rhythmic swarm of couples lost themselves to their music. 

Philip led Alexis by her fingertips to the
center of the floor.  His body arched over her, his arms pulling her against him.  She let her head rest at the base of his neck.  She breathed him in, the intoxicating, spiced aroma mingling with the effects of the champagne. 

He couldn’t seem to get close enough to her, and he pressed her against his frame until they could no longer discern the lines of their own bodies.  He buried his face in the red halo of her hair, and she felt his warm breath pour over the crown of her head.  It sent tingling waves along the surface of her skin, and she shivered against him.    For a moment she felt as happy as she ever had with Philip.  There were no longer hundreds of perfect strangers around them, no baiting conversations with disapproving family members.  There was just the heat of their two bodies compressed in a hypnotic sway.  She believed then that nothing else mattered.  Philip loved her, he respected her, and he would take care to preserve her happiness.

The two remained locked, lost in each other despite the growing attention of the party.  The floor had cleared a little, and slowly the other couples abandoned the dance floor.  Alexis felt Philip’s body shift, and she heard the soft rumble of his voice lift from his throat and whisper softly, “You’re extraordinarily beautiful, you know that, right?”

Almost dozing against his solid frame, she had no idea that they stood alone, and that all eyes were fixed on them.  The brassy warbl
e of the tenor saxophone tapered off, and Alexis lifted her head from Philip’s chest, her lids lifting woozily.  A solitary clap caught her attention and she realized they were watched by the entire party, which erupted into waves of thunderous applause.  Her jaw dropped and she felt color shoot into her cheeks.  Philip squeezed her hand, and with a teasing bow, beamed as though he’d won an Olympic medal. 

The festive night crept into the late hours, but the energetic commotion of the celebration showed no sign of diminishing.   Alexis had met more people in the space of a few hours than she could remember, and she was exhausted from the spotlight.  Attempting to steal a moment’s solitude, she slid along the expanse of the room until she reached a dome-shaped door. 

Alexis slipped away unnoticed and the haunting echo of a melancholy tune followed her onto the veranda.  Leaning against a column, she looked out at the immense sprawl of the Talbot gardens.  The neatly manicured lawn glowed blue under the moon light, and she could clearly make out the infinite maze of meticulously sculptured
shrubs. 

No matter how many times she’d visited the Talbot mansion, even after becoming serious with Philip, she had never managed to visualize her place
within it. 
This could be my life
, she thought suddenly, but the words rang empty.  If she was honest with herself, Alexis had always compartmentalized her life with Philip, away from the Talbots.  She had never factored them into their daily lives.  But watching the scale of this social event, Alexis knew she was underestimating their reach. 
Philip can only appease them so long,
she thought with dread.  But how long would he be able to ignore their expectations?
 
Alexis huffed with indignation as she remembered her exchange with Margaret.  She recalled the guilty expression on Philip’s face as he’d cut it short. 
Why do I feel like he’s hiding something from me?

Following the balustrade, she tiptoed to the nearest set of steps descending onto the freshly mowed grounds. 
Alexis slipped out of her heels and let her feet sink into the tufts of downy grass, strolling along the perimeter of the looming mansion.  Gazing up at the moon, a romantic orb low in the sky, her thoughts returned to Philip.  In spite of whatever baggage she might inherit with the relationship, she felt lucky to have found a companion who loved her as he did.  Whether it was appreciation or mere tolerance, he’d always accepted her eccentricities graciously.  And it didn’t hurt that he was irresistibly charming.

R
eady to rejoin the jubilant crowd, Alexis rounded the corner in search of a staircase.  Familiar laughter peeled across the quiet night and Alexis recognized its owner.  A few yards ahead on the veranda, Phillip stood at the center of a captive audience.  Huddled around were four men, two of whom were mutual university classmates.  The other two were childhood friends of Philip who’d gone on to inherit the fortunes and privilege of their fathers.  The cherry embers of their cigarettes burned neon in the shadows, zigzagging with the gesticulation of their hands. 

As she parted h
er lips to call out to them, Alexis heard her name, followed by a derisive snort.  Instinctively she ducked and contemplated her next move.  She felt childish at the idea of eavesdropping, but a budding suspicion urged her to remain unseen.  Crouching low, she waddled in her dress until she reached the protective cover of a wide bush just below Philip.