If the Van Luyens wanted Archie to marry Lucy Vanderbilt and join the family real estate firm, that’s what he would likely do. Perhaps she’d talk about it with Archie later. Make him see that if he wanted to lead his own life, he had to fight for it.
Pandora followed Archie and Virginia inside.
A butler led them into a crescent-shaped vestibule. Pandora admired the animal-skin rugs and potted palms and long, low sofas upholstered in velvets and rich satins. A stone fireplace took up one wall, and another wall was lined with marble statues.
“I heard the entry has sofas because the dinner parties go so late guests fall asleep while they wait for their cars,” Virginia whispered to Pandora.
Pandora’s eyes widened in awe. She’d heard that many of the furnishings—the floor-to-ceiling mirrors in the dining room, the eighteenth-century rolltop desk in the library, the Italian marble in the bathrooms—had been taken from the grand historic houses of Europe: Versailles in France, Villa Carlotta in Lake Como, Inverness Castle in Scotland. The green marble pilasters in the entry were a thousand years old. And the annular clock was crafted in France in the nineteenth century.
She was reminded how much she enjoyed house parties. She loved the beauty of the mansions themselves and the feeling of fun and frivolity when everyone arrived. The thrill of descending the staircase in her evening gown, and the pleasure the next morning of a delicious breakfast served in brilliant sunshine.
A maid in a black uniform led her upstairs to her guest room. Orange silk drapes hung at the windows, and the four-post bed was surrounded by orange curtains. An orange-and-white chaise lounge stood next to the fireplace, and towels were folded neatly and stacked at the washstand. A dart of hope, as delicate as the lace thread on her dress, shot through her. Perhaps today Harley would declare his feelings. Then, not only would she have the man she loved, but the lifestyle she loved so much would be hers too.
By late afternoon, Pandora and Harley had finished a game of croquet and were sitting on the lawn. So far, the house party was even better than Pandora had hoped. She and Harley had won two games of croquet and toured the farm. Pandora even got to hold a lamb. It was as small as a puppy, and when she put it next to her chest, she could feel its heart beating.
Cocktails would start soon, followed by dinner and dancing. Pandora would never be able to convince Harley to be alone with her after dark. It would be too compromising. If she wanted him to kiss her, it had to be now.
“I forgot my tennis racquet.” Pandora turned to Harley. “Lucy said there’s a cupboard of racquets in the sports pavilion. Will you come and look with me?”
“We’re not going to play tennis tonight.” Harley frowned. “Shouldn’t we get ready for dinner?”
Most of the others were walking back up to the house. The sun made pink-and-orange ribbons on the lawn, and the milky scent of gardenias wafted through the air.
“We promised Archie and Lucy we’d play doubles first thing in the morning,” Pandora reminded him. “If I don’t find a racquet now, I might not get a chance.”
Harley stood up. He straightened his boater hat.
“All right.” He nodded.
They walked down the hill to the pavilion. Pandora wondered what she would do when they arrived. She couldn’t just reach up and kiss him. It had to be Harley’s idea.
The pavilion felt cool and inviting after the afternoon heat. One long room held a Ping-Pong table and a selection of dumbbells. From there, a hallway led to changing rooms and a kitchen.
Pandora rummaged through a storage closet.
“I see one up there,” she said, pointing to a shelf. “I’m not sure if I can reach it.”
Before Harley could stop her, she climbed onto a shelf. With one hand, she reached for the racquet, and with the other she kept herself steady. Just as the racquet came loose, she lost her footing and started to fall. Harley’s arms encircled her, and she dropped into his embrace.
Their faces were so close together, Pandora could feel his breath on her cheek. She brushed her lips against his. Harley froze and Pandora worried she had made a terrible mistake. But then he kissed her back. His mouth was warm and sweet.
“I’m sorry.” Harley pulled away. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It was my fault,” she assured him. She didn’t want Harley to feel guilty. “You were so close and”—she let the color rise to her cheeks—“I couldn’t resist.”
Harley studied her intently. She had never seen his eyes such a bright shade of green.
“I wasn’t going to come today,” he admitted.
“You weren’t?” Pandora repeated, her heart beating faster.
If Harley hadn’t come, they might not have seen each other before he returned to Princeton. She couldn’t be wrong again, Harley had to have feelings for her.
“It’s the eighth anniversary of the Somme Offensive.”
“I don’t understand.” Pandora frowned.
“August 27, 1918. The date my brother Frank was killed. American and Canadian and Australian troops fought together. They pushed the Germans all the way back to the Hindenburg Line. It was one of the greatest victories of the war.” Harley hung his head. “Except my brother didn’t make it. Frank was hit by a grenade and blown up in front of his whole unit.”
Adele had mentioned the battle of the Somme. Pandora should have remembered.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Harley shrugged. “Frank was ten years older than me. I don’t remember him that well. But every year, my father takes the anniversary badly. My mother is visiting a cousin, so he’s alone today.”
“You must go and be with him,” Pandora insisted. “The Vanderbilts won’t mind. I’ll find another dinner partner, and . . .”
“My father wouldn’t have let me stay if I asked. He doesn’t like to show his emotions,” Harley cut in. “I’m glad I didn’t suggest it. I wanted to see you before I leave.”
Harley moved closer to kiss her again. His lips had barely touched hers when a door opened and they heard footsteps. Archie appeared in the room.
“Lucy sent me to get blankets for the fireworks after dinner,” Archie explained. “What are you two doing here?”
Harley’s cheeks turned red. Pandora quickly answered for both of them.
“I needed a tennis racquet”—she waved one in the air—“so Harley and I can beat you and Lucy tomorrow.”
Archie gave Pandora a peculiar look. Perhaps he had seen the tennis racquet stuffed in her overnight bag. He pulled a stack of blankets from the closet and handed them to Pandora and Harley.
“I’m glad you’re here. You can help me,” Archie instructed. “I can’t carry everything myself.”
It was clear that Pandora and Harley wouldn’t get any more time alone.
“We’d be glad to.” A small sigh escaped her. She reluctantly accepted the blankets. “Though I’m sure you could have managed. They hardly weigh a thing.”
Archie appeared in Pandora’s guest room while she was getting ready for dinner. She had hoped it was Virginia. She would have shown Virginia her dress and confided in her about Harley’s kiss.