Unfortunately, this sort of party was reminding him a little too much of home, and of his mother and her society friends.
Seeing his father and Claire standing in the corner of the drawing room, he pushed his way past the throng of people to get to them. As he walked, he heard snippets of conversation.
“Of course, John is on-call for when the millennium bug strikes…”
“I’m so excited about the river of fire. Bob Geldof is like a modern day Gandalf…”
He didn’t understand any of this talk. He found it hard to even decipher the accent, let alone comprehend exactly what it was these English people were trying to say.
“Richard.” Claire spotted him when he was about a yard away. Richard stepped forward and kissed his stepmother on the cheek. She smelled of lavender and roses. She reached out and touched his lapel. “You always look so handsome in a tux. And so much older.”
“And you look spectacular as always, Claire,” he replied. She smoothed down her dress and gave him a huge grin.
“You charmer. You’re getting more and more like your father every day.”
In his peripheral vision, he spotted someone approaching their little group. Whoever it was, they were dressed in black and white. He assumed it was one of the waiting staff.
“Can I offer you a Cumberland chipolata, blanketed in choux pastry, with a honey and mustard dip?” Richard recognized the girl. He’d seen her standing in the hall earlier. Her dark hair and pale skin were hard to miss.
“It looks like a sausage roll to me.” Claire smiled at the girl. They seemed way too familiar with each other for a waitress and her employer. “Hanna Vincent, please let me introduce you to my husband, Steven Larsen, and my stepson, Richard.”
“I’ve heard so much about you, Hanna.” His father spoke first. “Claire seems to think that I should make you a mix tape.”
Richard’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. How the heck did they know this girl? She didn’t look like the sort of girl that hung around at parties like this. She was like a bundle of unkempt energy, seemingly without a vocal filter.
“Maybe I’ll make you one.” Hanna grinned.
“I’d like that. I don’t think I’ve ever been given a mix tape by such a beautiful young lady before.” Steven was full of smiles and natural charm. His innocent flirting made Hanna blush. Richard watched with fascination as the warm blood filled her cheeks, making her skin glow.
Hanna turned to Claire. “Just how much Champagne has he been drinking?”
She had the English affliction of excessive modesty, too. Richard wanted to see her flustered again. “Hanna Vincent, it’s delightful to meet you.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips, expecting a shiver, a sigh. Anything.
Nothing. She just stared back at him, eyes dancing with amusement, as he released her hand.
“You too, Prep Boy. I almost didn’t recognize you in black tie. It ages you.”
Prep boy? His tux aged him? How did his father get the coy looks and blushes, while he got biting ripostes?
“Well, Goth Girl, I apologize for bewildering you with my attire.” He drawled his words on purpose, knowing sarcasm was the lowest form of wit.
Hanna turned to give him a grin. “It was a pleasure to meet you all. I really must go and ply the rest of your guests with pig innards stuffed in pastry.” With that she was gone, moving toward the group in the other corner of the room. Richard watched as she walked away, admiring the way her tight, black skirt clung to her round behind.
Steven had one eyebrow raised. A speculative expression covered his handsome face as he stared back at his son. Richard said nothing, just shook his head and grinned.
After midnight arrived and they’d sung “Auld Lang Syne,” Richard wandered out into the entrance hall and was thinking about going to bed. He spotted Hanna sitting at the top of the stairs, next to a tiny form that bore a striking resemblance to his sister.
He and Ruby were close, despite living in separate countries. He found himself worrying about her constantly. She wasn’t a typical pink-loving, shopaholic ten-year-old. She was quirky and funny, read books like there was no tomorrow, and loved to draw whatever she laid her eyes on. She was different, and that made her a target. He knew she hated school, and being looked down on by the other girls. Even here, in London, she was treated like a pariah.
Tiptoeing up the stairs, he decided to eavesdrop on their conversation, before alerting them to his presence. From what he could hear, Ruby was doing most of the talking. It was unusual.
“…no, I kinda liked the Spice Girls. I hate Britney Spears, though, and Christina Aguilera sucks big ones. I mean, they were Mouseketeers for God’s sake.”
“What’s a Mouseketeer?” Hanna’s voice was gentle and amused. Only a few steps farther and he would be able to see her face.
“From the Mickey Mouse Show. They do stupid dances and sketches and stuff. It’s so dumb.” Ruby’s voice was low, as if she knew that she shouldn’t be out of bed talking to a stranger at the top of the marble staircase.
“Sounds like hell on earth. Thank God you got out of America while you could.”