Deprivation- The Feast and the Famine

Chapter 8- A Gaggle of Girls

Claudia had been in a state of high nerves since it occurred to her that Bennett would be in attendance at the party. For of course, he would be invited. He was an eligible, young, rich man.

Or semi-eligible. No mother Claudia knew would affiance her daughter to him. A rake with money was still a rake. He'd have to go to a more remote part of town to find himself a proper bride.  

Still, Bennett would be invited. She would come face to face with him. After over a week of waiting for him to appear around every corner, knowing he would soon be in her home in the flesh threw her off kilter. 

Everything mattered. A single petal falling to the floor from the vases easily set her into a fit of tears. What if the house was too warm? What if Bennett disliked blue? What if he already had eyes for someone else? What if, after all, he was not invited? What if's haunted her. 

The fact that the other girls, who crowded in her room, had the gall to be nervous or fluttery made her want to slap them. That they existed at all was inconsequential, and she wished them away as fervently as she could. Though never aloud.

In fact, the only thing that Claudia did not worry about was Victor. He, like the other women, did not matter. He was a tenuous thing of dust and propriety. Only two things in the world were real— herself and Bennett. The world existed for them, and everything else was either an annoyance or an illusion of light and shadow. 

Claudia plucked at the fragile rose in her hair. Soft petals brushed over her fingertips like a kiss. She sat amid a bustle of girls who filled the air with scent and sound. They were all in soft pastel shades—or perhaps Claudia's disinterest had faded them. In any event, Claudia's dress was a bright blue with little pearl buttons. On her wrist, she wore a strand of pearls that Victor had given her. With a flush upon her cheeks and passion in her eyes, she stood out among the other's like a flame. She sapped them and bloomed on their strength and their envy. 

Oh, they all thought her bloom was for another. They had been whispering and clucking for weeks over Victor. Victor who should have belonged to someone else.  

'Like me,' said Vicky, 'for I am lovelier and aren't our names a lovely match? Just showing how we are meant to be.' 

'No, me,'said Helene, 'for surely the words of poetry he speaks are meant for someone brighter than Claudia is.' 

'Surely not,' said Constance, 'he deserves someone gentle like me; Claudia has far too much fire, and it's sinful.' 

But these were all bells chiming unheeded in the background. Claudia waited with hands twisted for sign of another.

"A present from Victor?" Constance asked, touching Claudia's bracelet, where it shone against the red brocade of her chair. Constance's husband never bought her such gifts. He got her inscribed bibles and sensible head coverings.

Claudia met her friend's eyes. It was as if she had bit into the flesh of the offending hand. Constance drew back, but she did not understand why. The twittering of the girls draped over the furniture in the dressing room stopped. Only the golden light playing across the rug continued to frolic. 

"Yes," Claudia said into the heavy silence. 

"It fits well," Helene said.  

Claudia shrugged. She wanted them to stop speaking. Perhaps she would be able to hear him approach if only they would hush. She did not want to miss a moment of Bennett. It took all her effort not to snarl at them.  

"Have you seen Philomela's brother?" Vicky offered up as a change of topic to lighten the mood Claudia had fouled. Why not discuss the delicious new scandal waiting to happen?