By The Sea, Book One: Tess by Antoinette Stockenberg Page A

through her pain.
    "Good. I do have to go. Mistress gets a
little wild with impatience before a ball."
    "And Miss Susan will want to know why the
mare reared up," Sarah chimed in. "Oh, there, look at her face—oh
lord, she's furious," she moaned, suddenly less confident. "And all
because of some stupid rabbit."
    They scurried to their mistresses like small
gray squirrels, leaving Tess to manage for herself. As she stood
with her weight on her good foot, hesitant to step on the injured
ankle, distraught lest she attract attention, one gentleman broke
from a nearby pack enjoying their cigars and approached her.
    "Good evening, Tess," said Edward Hillyard.
"I saw what happened." His voice, like his dress, was more formal
than before. "It seems I find myself once more offering
assistance."
    "And once more I find myself grateful but
managing nicely, thank you, sir," Tess answered, resolutely
allowing her weight to fall on the injured ankle. She gasped but
did not falter.
    "Tess, you are hurt," he said,
concerned. "Take my arm."
    "Oh Lord, sir, I couldn't!" This was
horrible. Hillyard's friends were staring curiously. And where was
Miss Cornelia?
    "You can and shall, my fair lass. Or would
you rather I gathered you up in my arms and carried you through the
Great Hall and past the receiving line—or in this case, throne?
Have you ever dreamed of making a grand entrance, Tess?" he asked
in a warm, teasing voice.
    It electrified her. "I will take your arm,
sir," she agreed quickly. Hesitantly she took a step, her hand
barely touching his sleeve.
    "Lean on me, dammit."
    "I don't dare."
    "Do drop this obsession with caste. Lean."
    She did, and was grateful for his aid. His
handsome form towered over her in the dark night, and for one
split, hallucinatory second Tess pictured how it might be, if he
were her partner at a ball.
    Insanity.
    Although the pain in her ankle was sharp,
with every step she was becoming more used to it, and at the end of
a dozen steps she said, "It isn't so bad as I thought, sir. I'm
fine now." And with what was left of her strength she let go of his
arm and hurried through the oak entrance doors to catch up with her
mistress.
    Inside she was dazzled by a vast expanse of
spotless marble floor which led to another set of doors, these of
massive wrought iron, beyond which was a second entrance hall.
Cornelia was there, talking with friends. When she spied Tess she
pounced. "You at last! Did you break your leg, that you idle so?
Oh! You can be infuriating," she hissed.
    Cornelia ascended a short flight of steps,
and Tess, limping behind her, saw by the set of her shoulders that
if for any reason the night was not a success, she would be
at fault.
    My days at Beau Rêve are numbered ,
Tess thought bleakly . And Maggie's as well. Where
will we go?
    Now they were in the Great Hall, about which
Tess had heard so much. Rumors had not done it justice. It was
soaring, cavernous, beyond ornate. Four crystal and bronze
chandeliers, each large enough to hold several footmen, hung thirty
feet from the ceilings, and still they towered high over the
guests. A balcony of massive wrought iron railings completely
encircled the hall, allowing guests to look down on the new
arrivals from a height of several stories. The hall floor, of
polished marble and covered with a vast red carpet, was dotted with
a dozen and a half silver-buttoned footmen in maroon livery who
were positioned there for no other reason than to direct traffic.
Awestruck debutantes were led to a vast, curved marble staircase
leading to dressing rooms off the balcony above; their beaux were
directed to a staircase descending to rooms below.
    Cornelia, clearly staggered, did her best to
affect a jaded response. "Such cleverness all around, don't you
think?" she was saying to a young friend her own age. "See how
they've worked the Vanderbilt acorn motif onto every possible
surface. There are acorns everywhere: gilt, bronze, marble, wood.
It does seem a bit too much,"