A Beautiful Dare by Natasha Lester

Author:Natasha Lester [Lester, Natasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Fiction, Cultural Heritage, romance, Historical, Short Stories (Single Author)
ISBN: 9780733635908
Google: uWWVCwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B01BVETOY6
Publisher: Hachette UK
Published: 2016-03-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

‘Evie!’

As the Lockharts stepped inside the ballroom of the Whitmans’ enormous home that evening, Charlie rushed over to greet them. He took Evelyn’s hand eagerly and kissed it, eyes fixed on her face, but the ache in her arm where he’d gripped it that morning and the memory of his concern for decorum over compassion made her look away.

‘I hope you’ll dance every dance with me,’ Charlie said. When Evelyn didn’t reply, he turned to her mother. ‘You won’t mind if I monopolise Evelyn tonight?’

‘Not at all,’ Mrs Lockhart replied, staring at her daughter, trying with the power of her eyebrows to make her respond to Charlie with gratitude and a smile.

Charlie held out his arm. Evelyn was aware that people were watching them, having heard Charlie call out her name and kiss her hand, noting that he’d singled her out above all the other ladies in the room. She had no choice but to take his arm. But she held back her smile.

As Charlie led the family through the room, Evelyn began to feel hot. Her dress was one that suited her mother’s idea of modesty: the full skirt fell to her ankles and the sleeves finished below her elbows. Her hair was up, the long, blonde length of it sitting heavily on her head, pressing down on her like the imperious hand of God. The room was crammed with the important families of Concord, men from Harvard, and couples from New York, where the Whitman bank was located. Thomas, Charlie’s brother, moved through the crowd, introducing Alberta, the prim-looking girl on his arm who Evelyn assumed was his intended fiancée. It was all very elegant, from the lovely turquoise gown that Mrs Whitman wore – which Mrs Lockhart, with her preference for the drabness of the peahen, whispered was shockingly bold – to the six-piece band playing on the terrace outside, to the abundance of cut crystal glasses filled with impossible-to-get French champagne, handed out by waiters who pretended never to have heard of Prohibition. But it was also stiff and constrained; everyone smiled and said how lovely Alberta was, even though Evelyn thought she looked wintry, as if chatter and spontaneity were unknown to her. She longed for someone to dance the Breakaway across the room to relieve the monotony of it all, but that would be almost as scandalous as what had happened this morning.

‘Excuse me,’ she whispered to Charlie, retrieving her arm and moving away.

Before she could escape, her mother squeezed Evelyn’s left ring finger and hissed, ‘Remember why you’re here.’

But Evelyn wasn’t in the mood to smile until she got the engagement ring her mother wanted for her. She needed some air. As she walked out onto the terrace, she heard her name; it had been spoken by one of a group of men who were clouding the air with cigarette smoke just inside the door. She quickly moved against the wall, hidden from their view, and listened.

‘Yes, she’s a looker,’ said another man.

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