“That will keep Owen’s attention,” Virginia said approvingly. “Your hair is lovely—anything in it would distract from the necklace. But Mother has sapphire earrings that would go perfectly. I’ll get them from her guest room.”
“I can’t wear your mother’s earrings, and I can’t wear this necklace,” Pandora insisted, while thinking it would be a shame not to. The sapphires made her eyes look even bluer. “Owen knows I can’t afford anything like it.”
Virginia snapped the jewelry case shut.
“You might not be able to afford it, but an admirer might have given it to you as a present.” She smiled her most wicked smile. “Sometimes I can’t believe how clever I am. You’ll be the most beautiful woman at the dance and make Owen jealous at the same time.”
Pandora forced herself to wait until the party was in full swing before making her appearance. When she paused to stand on the balcony, she was glad she had. All heads turned in her direction, and she could tell she was making an impression.
Virginia had decided Pandora should go for a virginal look, so instead of kohl and dark lipstick, she wore powder and pale pink blush. Even her hair was understated compared to that of the other girls, who all wore silk headbands and jeweled hair clips.
“Whose heart do you plan to break in that dress?” Archie asked.
Pandora had to admit the finished effect was stunning. The lace dress made her feel as if she were floating, and the necklace and earrings twinkled in the candlelight that flickered around the lawn. Her hair was scooped up to reveal her neck, and her eyes looked large and luminous under a touch of mascara.
“You’re the heartbreaker.” Pandora turned to Archie. “I saw two girls practically having a catfight to come talk to you.”
“They just like me for my new car,” Archie said, grinning. He studied Pandora. “Let’s get down to the important thing. Where’s Owen, and what’s he going to say when he sees you resembling a blond Clara Bow.”
“I do not look like Clara Bow,” Pandora said, pleased despite herself. How she’d love to have the beauty and charm of America’s hottest new film star. Every woman under thirty dreamed of being like her. “What makes you think I have any interest in Owen. If Virginia . . .”
“My sister would never reveal secrets to me,” Archie replied easily. “Hers or anyone else’s. I’ve known you for too long. It was all over your face at the tennis match this afternoon. Owen’s a decent guy, but you’re special, Pandora. He doesn’t deserve you.”
Pandora caught sight of Owen across the lawn. Her heart lifted and she gave a little wave.
Owen climbed the steps to greet them.
“Owen, we were just talking about you,” Archie said. “You’ll be captain of the tennis team this year with more matches like that. You put Harvard’s Gordon Mott in his place.”
“It was because of Pandora,” Owen said gallantly. “Gordon couldn’t touch one of Pandora’s serves.”
Pandora fiddled with her evening bag.
“You were wonderful; you could have won it by yourself,” she said, looking up at Owen.
“I worried that I upset you when I got angry and that you weren’t coming tonight,” Owen admitted. His eyes moved down her dress. “I’m glad you did. You look lovely in that dress.”
Pandora was speechless. Owen rarely complimented her looks.
“She does look stunning, doesn’t she,” Archie affirmed. He turned cheekily to Owen. “If I was you, I’d claim the first dance with Pandora now. I heard a couple of the guys planning a duel for the honor.”
Pandora was about to jab Archie in the back to let him know that he had gone too far when Owen took her arm.
“That’s a good idea, and I have to introduce you to my mother,” Owen said to Pandora. “I’ve been telling her all about you.”
Owen handed her a glass of champagne and led her into the garden. He told her about the new convertible he’d ordered. It would arrive by the time he returned to Princeton, and he said he thought Pandora would love it. That was a good sign, she thought, that he was including Pandora in his future.
But she found it difficult to concentrate. All she could think about was that she was making her entrance on Owen’s arm.
“Could you make it down to Princeton in the fall?” Owen was saying. “The tennis season isn’t until spring, but there are football games every weekend, and we could . . .”
A woman in her midforties approached them. Pandora recognized Mabel Winthrop from the society pages. She wore a beaded gold lamé dress with a fringed hem. Gold cuff bracelets with an Egyptian cat motif snaked up her arm, and she carried a gold fan.
“Owen, there you are,” Mabel said. “The Buckleys are looking for you. Alice Buckley’s son is starting Princeton and I said you’d give him some tips.”
“Mother, this is Pandora. We were talking about Pandora coming to Princeton. She can take the train from Penn Station, and I’ll pick her up.”
Mabel studied Pandora curiously.
“What a stunning gown,” Mabel commented. “Do your parents keep a townhouse in New York? Sometimes I wish my husband didn’t love Rosecliff as much as he does. New York is much more exciting.”
Pandora was about to reply but stopped. She could hardly say she’d soon be living in New York to attend secretarial school, and she wasn’t going to admit she made her own dress. She didn’t want Mabel to know that she couldn’t afford to buy one.
“Pandora is Willie Carmichael’s daughter,” Owen said to his mother. “I was telling you about her earlier.”
Recognition crossed Mabel’s features.
“Of course, that’s why Owen wanted us to meet,” Mabel exclaimed. “I’ve taken up tennis. Imagine, we’ve owned Rosecliff for ten years, and I’ve never been on the tennis court. Owen said you could give me lessons.”
“Pandora would be happy to.” Pandora was surprised Owen answered for her. “She’s going to help me work on my serve when she comes to Princeton. I’ll be the strongest player on the team.”
Pandora’s cheeks flushed, and she gripped her champagne flute. Was that the only reason Owen invited her to Princeton? Although, she thought to herself, it was good that he wanted to play tennis with her. Couples needed to have things in common.
“I’d be delighted,” Pandora said, willing herself to smile.
Pandora heard a rustling sound and smelled a distinct perfume.
“Owen, where have you been hiding?” Lillian Clarkson approached them. “I had to drink my first glass of champagne by myself.”
Pandora had to admit Lillian looked beautiful. She’d replaced the sporty clothes she wore to the tennis match with a tiered chiffon dress and long white gloves. A jeweled hairpin held her curls, and she carried a beaded evening bag.
“Hardly hiding,” Owen said cheerfully. Pandora watched him take in Lillian. His eyes stayed on her décolletage longer than Pandora preferred. “I found Pandora,” he continued. “She’s going to give Mother tennis lessons. Maybe you can have lessons too.”