#46 (The Montgomery family celebrates Alison's birthday...)
The ballroom on the Montgomery Estate was a feast for the senses. On this, the occasion of Alison Farrell Montgomery’s birthday, only people from the most salubrious backgrounds and carefully crafted lineages were invited to share in the festivities. Dignitaries the world over chatted with royals, aristocrats, and the great and good of Kingsport. Although Alison never liked to make a fuss about anything, she always allowed others to create a fuss about her birthday. This was the first time in years Alison had celebrated her birthday in Kingsport. Unbeknownst to everyone else, she was secretly happy to have her family around her during this wonderful time.
“I see India and Will are keeping their distance from each other,” said Sheila Davenport over the rim of her champagne flute.
Alison fiddled with the ruby and diamond bracelet, a birthday present from Charles, on her wrist. “I spoke to them this morning. I don’t want a scene in front of a prince or an ambassador.”
Sheila let out a small laugh. “Charles has really outdone himself this year, hasn’t he?”
“It’s the least he can do,” teased Alison. “He managed to invite the right people, fly in my favorite chefs, and ensure nothing but restrained elegance filled our ballroom.”
Sheila took note of Alison’s choice of words. “Our?”
“Yes,” bristled Alison, brightly. “It’s our family home.”
“You needn’t get defensive. I think… Darling, you know how I hate to intercede, but maybe it’s time you and the old coot called a truce.”
“We have. We have our lives…”
“That’s not what I mean,” insisted Sheila. She quickly stopped talking as one of the Princesses of Andover came over to wish Alison a happy birthday before being whisked away for a dance by a certain nobleman. “No matter how much I visiting you in Paris, I would love it even more if my best friend came home.”
Alison nodded at Sheila’s words. “Sometimes… Sheila, you cannot repeat this to anyone!” She waited for Sheila to swear her silence before stating, “Sometimes I miss Kingsport. I miss the estate. Yes, it’s very easy for me to visit or have the children visit me, but it’s not the same. Don’t get me wrong, I love Paris. It is my home, but Kingsport…” Alison’s voice drifted off into the ether. “I suppose I’m simply being an old nostalgic,” laughed Alison.
“Mrs. Montgomery!” Barbara Wilkes deftly made her way through the throngs of the rich and the good as her formal maid’s outfit tried to cut off her circulation.
“What?” said Alison, evenly.
“There’s a man here to see you.”
“Which one?” goaded Alison. “There are far too many men here to know…”
“Count Andre du Renault,” Barbara replied in badly broken Franco English.
Alison felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach. She caught Sheila’s eye as she said, “I didn’t invite him!”
“Where is he?” Sheila asked Barbara, crisply.
“In the Morning Room,” answered Barbara.
“You may go,” Sheila told Barbara. Once Sheila saw that the little maid had faded into the background, Sheila looked at Alison’s ashen face. “Do you want me to come with you?”
Alison shook her head as she quietly glided out of the ballroom and into the long corridor which led to the Morning Room. She hadn’t seen Andre in months and, quite frankly, she doubted if she would ever see him again after their last confrontation. He was the first man in years who made her feel alive in a personal and sexual way, but India had come between them as she had done to so many people in the past. As Alison pushed open the door to the Morning Room, she saw Andre leaning against the fireplace with a tumbler of whisky in his hand. Before she would speak, he turned to her and said, “Thank you for inviting me, ma chérie.”
“I didn’t invite you,” snapped Alison as she closed the door to the Morning Room. “I told you I never wanted to see you again, Andre.”
“My love, you don’t mean that! If you did, you wouldn’t’ve invited me to celebrate the occasion of your birth.”
Even though she vowed to loathe this man for the rest of her life, his sweet words always made her wet with desire mixed with hot, ripe passion.
“Andre,” Alison said after a moment, “I promise you I didn’t invite you to my home. You must be mistaken.”
Count Andre du Renault procured a gilded invitation from the breast pocket of his tuxedo and handed it to Alison. She studied it with great care. Yes, the invitation came from the Montgomery family office with all of the details concerning tonight’s event. “My love, I came here to be with you.”
“I don’t want to be with you. Not after you were with my daughter!”
“But I wasn’t! She pursued me. She…mixes things up so I don’t know what’s right or sideways. That woman is evil, ma chérie.”
“Just go, Andre. If you love me, leave. I don’t want my husband or my children to see you.”
Crestfallen, Andre placed a small box on an end table before gracefully walking to the door, kissing Alison on the cheek, and leaving the Morning Room.
Confused and shaken, Alison knew she had to regain her composure before she returned to the ballroom. After a few brief moments, Alison screwed up her nerves, checked herself in the mirror, and opened the door of the morning room when she gasped. There, standing in the shadows was India, leaning against the wall. “India! You scared me to death.”
“I wanted to be sure you got your birthday present,” sneered India.
Alison’s eyes went wide at the callous tone her daughter directed towards her. “You…” stammered Alison, quickly. “Why would you do something that like that, India?”
India slowly walked over to her mother, grabbed her by the shoulders, kissed her cheek, and whispered into Alison’s ear, “Because I can.”
As Alison stood frozen in horror, she watched India glide down the corridor like a figment of her imagination. It was in that moment that Alison finally understood something she’d denied for years: India was capable for anything. Anything.
In our next installment, Eli puts his plan in motion…
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