slave on an auction block in the antebellum South and then quickly shifted her gaze to Beau. His weak smile reinforced her suspicions.
'Where are your play scripts?' she demanded with a scowl.
'Right here,' Beau said, and picked them up to show them to her.
'Hmm,' she said, and then flicked her stony eyes at me. 'I can't wait to see the result of all this dedicated rehearsal.' She pulled herself up into an even straighter, firmer posture. 'We're having some dinner guests tonight. Dress more formally,' she ordered in a cold, commanding tone. 'And fix your hair. Where's your sister?'
'I don't know,' I said. 'She left earlier and hasn't returned.'
'Should she somehow get past me before dinner, inform her of my instructions,' she said. She glanced at Beau again, her frown deepening, and then returned her gaze to me and fired her words like bullets. 'I don't like locked doors in my house. When people lock doors, they usually have something to hide or they're doing something they don't want anyone else to know,' she snapped, and then pivoted and left. It was as if a cold wind had just blown through the room. I let out a breath and so did Beau.
'You better be going, Beau,' I said. He nodded.
'I'll pick you up for school tomorrow,' he said. 'Ruby . . .'
'I hope you really meant what you said, Beau. I hope you really do care for me.'
'I do. I swear,' he said, and kissed me. 'I'll see you in the morning. Bye.' He was eager to escape. Daphne's looks were like darts sticking into his facade of innocence.
After he left I sat down for a moment. The events of the last hour seemed more like a dream now. It wasn't until I got up and looked at the drawing I had done of him that I realized none of it was a dream. I covered the picture and hurried out, feeling so light, I thought I might just be carried out an open window by a passing breeze.
Gisselle didn't return home in time for dinner. She phoned to say she was eating with her friends. Daphne was very upset about it, but quickly hid her displeasure when our dinner guests, Monsieur Hamilton Davies and his wife, Beatrice, arrived. Monsieur Davies was a man in his late fifties or early sixties who owned a steamboat company that took tourists up and down the Mississippi River. Daphne had let me know that he was one of the wealthiest men in New Orleans, who they were trying to involve with some of my father's investments. She also let me know in no uncertain terms that it was very important I be on my best behavior and make a good impression.
'Don't speak unless spoken to and when someone does speak to you, answer promptly and briefly. They'll be watching the way you comport yourself so remember everything I taught you about dinner etiquette,' she lectured.
'If you're worried about me embarrassing you, maybe I should eat earlier,' I suggested.
'Nonsense,' she said sharply. 'The Davies are here because they want to see you. They're the first of our friends I've invited. They know it's an honor,' she added in her most haughty, arrogant tone.
Was I some sort of trophy now, a curiosity she was using to enhance her own importance in the eyes of her friends? I wondered, but dared not ask. Instead, I dressed as she told me to dress and took my place at the table, concentrating on my posture and my manners.
The Davies were pleasant enough, but their interest in my story made me uncomfortable. Madame Davies, especially, asked many detailed questions about my life in the bayou with 'those awful Cajuns,' and I had to make up answers on the spot, glancing quickly at Daphne after each response to see if I had said the right things.
'Ruby's tolerance for these swamp people is understandable,' she told the Davies when I didn't sound bitter enough. 'For all of her life, she was led to believe she was one of them and they were her family.'
'How tragic,' Madame Davies said. 'And yet, look at how nice she's turning out. You're doing a wonderful job with her, Daphne.'
'Thank you,' Daphne said, gloating.
'We oughta get her story into the newspapers, Pierre,' Hamilton Davies suggested.
'That would only bring her notoriety, Hamilton dear,' Daphne said quickly. 'The truth is, we've shared these details solely with our dearest friends,' she added. The way she smiled, batted her eyelashes, and turned her shoulders at him made his eyes twinkle with pleasure. 'And we've asked everyone to be discreet. No sense in making life any more difficult for the poor child than it already has been,' she added.
'Of course,' Hamilton said. He smiled at me. 'That would be the least desirable thing to do. As usual, Daphne, you're a lot wiser and clearer thinkin' than us Creole men.'
Daphne lowered and then raised her eyes flirtatiously. Watching her in action, I felt confident I was watching an expert when it came to manipulating men. All the while my father sat back, a smile of admiration, a look of idolization in his eyes. Even so, I was happy when dinner ended and I was excused.
A few hours later, I heard Gisselle return home and go to her room. I waited to see if she would knock on our adjoining door or try it, but she went right to her telephone. I couldn't hear what she was saying, but I heard her voice drone on well into the night. She seemed to have a slew of friends to call. Naturally, I was curious about what she gossiped, but I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of going to her. I was still very angry over the things she had done.
The next morning, she was all brightness and light, just bubbling over with pleasantness at the breakfast table. I was cordial to her in front of Daddy, but I was determined to see her apologize before I would be as friendly as I had been. To both Beau's and ray surprise, she had Martin pick her up for school. Just before she skipped down the steps to get into his car, she turned to me and offered the closest thing to an apology.
'Don't blame me for what happened. Someone else told them we had gone to Storyville and I had to tell them about your friend,' she said. 'See you at school, sister dear,' she added with a smile.
Before I could reply, she was rushing off. A few moments later, I got into Beau's car and we followed. He was still worried about Daphne.
'Did she say or ask you anything else after I left?' he wanted to know.
'No. She was worried only about pleasing our dinner guests.'
