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Authors: Georgiana Derwent

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BOOK: Oxford Blood
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The shop assistant nodded enthusiastically. Harriet tried on
outfit after outfit as her mother looked on critically.

“That’s a gorgeous dress but the wrong colour for your skin
tone. That’s pretty but it doesn’t show off your tiny waist enough. That dress
is just plain horrible, don’t even bother trying it on.”

Harriet began to feel exhausted. All of the dresses were
lovely as far as she was concerned. In the end they settled on an emerald
coloured dress with a bandage style top half and a short billowing skirt.

“The colour brings out your eyes perfectly and the cut
really shows off your delicate figure without making you look like a tart,”
said Adelaide, pleased. “Do you like it? I was thinking you could wear that one
to the summer party, assuming they invite you back.”

Harriet nodded. As it happened she loved it, but by this
stage she’d have been ready to say yes to anything.

The second dress was even better. It was almost ethereal,
made of different shades of gold and bronze silk that overlaid each other. Tiny
crystals subtly covered the bust area. She’d never seen a dress quite as
beautiful.

“We’ll take a few of the daytime dresses and the ballet
pumps as well,” Adelaide told the sales assistant. “It’s not just about a few
parties; my daughter needs to start looking her best at all times.”

“Thanks mum,” Harriet said grinning.

After the remaining clothes had been taken away, they had
some drinks in her room, then Adelaide glanced at her watch and announced she
had to meet Gus and head back to London.

“One more thing though. You shouldn’t be dragging yourself
through Oxford. You need to be wearing the right things, going to the right
parties. I wish I could help you at every step, but that’s just not viable. So
instead, from now on, I’m going to pay a couple of grand into your bank account
each month. It’s not much in the scheme of things - I don’t want to make you
too spoilt - but it should be enough to live like a Queen amongst everyone’s
student budgets.”

“Mum, the clothes are fab, but you don’t need to give me
that sort of money,” Harriet said hesitantly. The money could revolutionise her
lifestyle, but she wasn’t sure she could accept it.

“Don’t be ridiculous darling. I’m paying it in whatever you
say, and I suppose it’s up to you whether you use it or not. I’m your mother;
I’m supposed to support you. It’s not the same as accepting money from some
patronising do-gooder. Gus and I tried years ago to give your aunt and uncle a
large income to ensure you were brought up properly, and they refused. Please
don’t be as proud and stubborn as they were.”

Harriet hugged her. She’d just confirmed something she’d
long suspected. She couldn’t help but wish that her aunt and uncle had taken
the money offered. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake.

“I love you Mum,” she said, as she led her out to the
porter’s lodge. “Thanks for a marvellous evening.”

It struck her with a flash just how much her mother loved
her and how wonderful she was. If her mother thought that going to the
Cavaliers’ party with George was a good idea, she would take her advice.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

H
arriet
spent ages getting ready, though she was unsure whether she was trying to
impress George, Tom, or simply the crowd of glamorous and exciting people that
would inevitably be at the dinner. She hadn’t spoken to George since the night
of Halloween. Too nervous to call the number he’d given she’d simply had a
brief note of acceptance sent to his college pigeonhole.

She’d splashed out on having her hair professionally styled
– tearing herself away from the temptation to have it completely straightened,
she’d gone to the other extreme and it was now set into a pile of loose curls.
She glanced in the mirror and was amazed at how different it made her look.

She’d done her make-up carefully, smudging gold liner and
bronze powder over her eyelids, which made the green of her irises stand out
and contrasted dramatically with her dark hair. She highlighted her cheekbones
and smeared a touch of red on her lips.

The new gold dress was wonderful. Its various silken layers
skimmed her body and caught the light at different angles, giving her an an
almost otherworldy appearance. She slipped on delicate gloss stockings that
also shone.  Next, she added silvery strappy shoes, green dangling earrings and
a sparkly bracelet. Last of all, she put on her necklace, telling herself she
was only doing so because it accessorised perfectly with the dress and not
because of Tom’s warning.

The effort of getting ready had kept her calm, but once she
was dressed and sat at her computer, nerves began to overwhelm her. She was far
from certain that she’d done the right thing in accepting George’s invitation

As she sat, her phone rang. Seeing it was Caroline, Harriet
paused before picking it up, knowing what she was going to say.

“I know this is probably a lost cause, but please, I’m
begging you one more time not to go.”

“I’ll be fine. I think there was a misunderstanding the
other night. I overreacted.”

Caroline gave a harsh laugh. “Overreacted? He attacked you
with a knife. I’m already uncomfortable that we didn’t go to the police. Why
would you go on a date with him?”

“He won’t do anything like that again, I’m sure of it. Last
time we were on a deserted path. Tonight we’ll be in a hall full of people. I
promise that if anything goes wrong again, you can march me straight down to
the station to report him.”

Still giving her dire warnings, Caroline finally hung up,
having extracted a promise that she’d come straight over the next morning to
report back.

Harriet wandered up the High Street, struggling to walk in
her heels but convinced it was worth it. She felt again that sense of awe at
the beauty of the town. Her amazement at this had faded a little over the
course of the term but she was sure it would never be entirely destroyed.

It was a fifteen-minute walk to Christ Church. Harriet
explained to the college’s notoriously strict porters where she was going. They
looked at her curiously but let her in. Whenever she had visited before, she
had admired the college’s imposing architecture. It wasn’t as beautiful as her
own college, but was on a bigger scale that took her breath away. Tonight
though, her heart was pounding too much to take anything in. She wished she had
come with a friend, wondering if Caroline would ever have agreed to it. The
thought of walking alone into a room full glamorous people terrified her. She
couldn’t even rely on her date for some moral support - the cocktail of
attraction and fear that George provoked in her would make things a hundred
times worse.

Harriet walked though the main quad and into a smaller area
at the back, unsure exactly where the pre-dinner drinks were being held. To her
relief, she saw two men in white tie lounging against a wall, smoking, and
realised she must have come to the right place. As she stared at their arrogant
faces and pristine outfits however, her confidence began to fail her. Her
underlying sense of not quite belonging, which she usually managed to suppress,
rushed to the forefront, paralysing her to the extent that she was unable to
approach the two apparent Cavaliers. Trying to steady her nerves, she took a
walk around the college, promising herself that when she got back to the spot
she’d speak to them.

In the main quad, she saw three girls in expensive looking
dresses who she could only assume were also heading to the party. Their class
would have been evident from their polished look, even if she hasn’t been able
to hear their drawling tones. The trio appeared utterly self-assured and
Harriet chided herself for her sudden and uncharacteristic lack of confidence.
She caught their eye and rather than look at her in disdain, they smiled
welcomingly. Harriet smiled back and decided that she had to just go for it.

The two boys were still leaning against the wall when she
reached the small quad again. This time she didn’t hesitate, walking straight
towards them. Both of them looked up as she approached. One was blond and
muscular; the other was slim with long dark hair. Both however had that quality
of unearthly good looks that Harriet was slowly beginning to identify with the
members of the Cavaliers.

“Hi, where do I need to go for the Cavalier drinks?” Harriet
asked, trying and failing to sound calm.

“Are you invited?” asked the blond, looking her up and down
and not sounding overly friendly.

“Yes, of course. I was told to come to this part of the
college, but not given proper directions,” Harriet snapped, nerves and
irritation making her accent more pronounced than ever. She felt every muscle
in her body begin to tense. Why had she come?

“Who invited you then?” asked the darker haired one,
sounding slightly more pleasant but still suspicious.

“I did,” said George, appearing out of the shadows.

Harriet had been terrified about seeing George again, but in
the end, it came as something of a relief. The two smokers became instantly
more respectful as George took her arm.

George glared at them. “Peter. Edward. I’ll see you inside
momentarily. But I’d suggest that Cavaliers of little more than a year’s
induction act a little more humbly.”

Without waiting for them to respond, he led Harriet around
the corner, where she noticed a door marked discretely with a horse and sword
design.

George pushed the door open and strode into the room, which
was in semi-darkness, lit by a multitude of candles and decorated with antique
oak furniture. A huge fireplace filled with flames dominated one wall. She
expected George to attempt to apologise or explain his actions, but it was
clear that he didn’t think the subject worthy of discussion. She considered
bringing his attack up herself, but somehow it didn’t quite seem appropriate.

There were about forty people in the room. About half were
female. They were pretty and glamorous, with the polish that came from
generations of breeding. The men however had that overly flawless look that
marked them out as Cavaliers. Like George, they all wore silver and turquoise
waistcoats and bowties to accessorise their expensive looking shirts and
tailcoats.

Several of them turned to nod at George, giving her a very
thorough stare in the process, but making no attempt to come over.

He seems very senior
. Despite her nerves and her
memory of the way George had acted during their last meeting, she couldn’t help
feeling a little thrill at being seen with him, at the respect on the faces of
the male guests and the hint of jealousy coming from the women.

“Let me get you a drink,” George whispered into her ear as
though telling her the most shocking secret, causing further stares. He led her
to a long table at the back of the room covered in champagne flutes and handed
one to her. Harriet drank eagerly.

I’m looking good and attending the most exclusive party
in town as the guest of someone powerful and attractive
, reasoned Harriet,
beginning to relax.
This was basically exactly what I wanted from an Oxford
education.

“Much as I’d enjoy keeping you to myself for the evening, I
suppose I ought to introduce you to some of the other members,” George drawled,
beginning to walk purposefully towards a group of three Cavaliers on the other
side of the room. “They’re all desperate to meet you.”

She wondered why they were so interested. Yes, she was
looking good, but not, if she was brutally honest with herself, any more so
than the other women there, who were universally beautiful. Perhaps they were
simply intrigued to see George’s date for the evening, but he must surely have
brought a different girl each time.

“Harriet, this is Rupert. Rupert, Harriet.”

She shook the hand of the athletic looking dark haired boy.

“A pleasure,” he drawled, before turning to George. “So,
this is your little coup is it? Very impressive.”

“Ignore Rupert,” George said loudly to Harriet. “The two of
us have a sort of sibling rivalry going on. He gets terribly jealous, don’t
you?”

For a second, Rupert looked utterly murderous but he quickly
forced his expression into one of placid charm. “Well, I wouldn’t count on this
ending it,” he said in a light voice. “It was marvellous to meet you,” he
added, giving Harriet a radiant smile. “Now I’d better find my date. She might
not be so socially advantageous, but she does look terribly attractive in a
tight fitting cocktail dress.”

After he had stormed away, George introduced her to the two
members that Rupert had been talking to: Hugh, who was black and muscular, and
Crispin, who had blond curls, a delicate build and a seemingly permanent
furious expression. Hugh made friendly conversation, but Crispin gave the
impression of having taken an instant dislike to her and was practically
monosyllabic.

“Who’s that?” Harriet asked. She pointed to a member
standing aloof from everyone else, with an expression of intense unhappiness on
his thin haughty face.

“His name’s Archie,” George replied with a hint of
disapproval in his voice. “A recruit from the summer before last, and not
exactly one of our success stories. I can introduce you, though I doubt he’ll
be overly welcoming.”

“Please,” said Harriet. Something about the boy intrigued
her.

“Oh do cheer up Archie old boy,” George said, strolling over
to him and dragging Harriet in his wake. “This really can be a great lifestyle
if you’d only embrace it.”

“Can’t you leave me alone George?” Archie said wearily.
“Isn’t it enough that you made me what I am, that you forced me to do what I
did? Must I smile and play your little games as well?”

“My guest for the evening wanted to make your acquaintance.
I think you’ll like Harriet, she seems like your type.”

BOOK: Oxford Blood
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