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“Good evening, Miss Sava
Tom introduced them so Sava
Sava
Her father led her into the living room, which was equally opulent and full of antiques. There was another beautiful chandelier, and the furniture was upholstered in delicate brocades. There were family portraits and statues, and vases full of flowers. The room had a delicate scent, and Sava
They walked through the enormous dining room, where every wall boasted the portrait of a Confederate general, their ancestors. Tom escorted Sava
Tom led her up the stairs then, to her room, which took Sava
Tom left Sava
“We’re here,” he said simply, and didn’t approach her. He slept in his study occasionally when she had “sick days,” which meant they weren’t speaking to each other. Her mother’s migraines were how they explained their sleeping arrangements to Daisy, so he didn’t “disturb” her. They tried to hide the fact that their marriage was rocky. She was too young to understand it, or so they thought. “Luisa?” he said more loudly, when she didn’t answer. He knew she wasn’t sleeping. Her jaw was tense, and she was fully dressed. She was wearing a pink Chanel suit, with a ruffled pink blouse, and her pink and black Chanel shoes looked hastily abandoned beside the bed. He suspected she had dived onto it, and grabbed the damp cloth when she heard them coming. She had no intention of welcoming Sava
“I have a migraine,” she said in a strong voice that suggested otherwise, and in a heavy South Carolinian accent, like his own. His family had been in Charleston for hundreds of years now, and hers had originally arrived in New Orleans, but had come to Charleston before the Civil War as well. Their histories and roots and traditions were deeply woven into the South. It wouldn’t have occurred to either of them to live anywhere but here. Her seven-year sojourn in Dallas when she left him had been an agony for her. She thought Texans uncivilized and tacky, but liked the fact that most of them were rich, at least those she met with her husband. But all they had was money, she liked to say, not ma
“I’d like you to come and say hello to Sava
“Get her out of it immediately,” Luisa said with her eyes closed. “That room is for important people who come to visit us, not a child. Put her in one of the rooms upstairs. That’s where I want her.” She said all of it with her eyes closed, and moving no part of her but her mouth. The room she was talking about was a maid’s room in the attic, and Tom seethed inwardly at what she’d said, but wasn’t surprised. Luisa had declared war on him and Sava
“She’ll stay in the Blue Room,” he said firmly. “Where’s Daisy?”
“Asleep.” He glanced at his watch. It was nine-thirty.
“At this hour? What did you do? Drug her? She doesn’t go to bed till ten.”
“She was tired,” Luisa said, and finally opened her eyes, and looked at him, but made no move to get up.
“What did you tell her?” he asked, his own jaw tensing now. And he knew that this was just the begi
“About what?” Luisa stared at him blankly, in response to his question about what she had told Daisy.
“You know what I’m asking you. What did you tell Daisy about Sava
“I told her you had a youthful indiscretion, and Sava