Chapter 2

A week later, a discreet representative from the Vanderbilt family visited. A Mr. Sterling. He was polite, observant, his eyes missing nothing.

Eleanor paraded Brie like a prize filly. Brie, coached to perfection, simpered and charmed. She spoke of charity work she' d never done and artistic talents she didn' t possess.

I was instructed to be quiet, to be pleasant but unremarkable. Easy enough.

Mr. Sterling' s questions were subtle. He asked about family traditions, education, aspirations.

Eleanor answered mostly for Brie, painting her as a paragon of virtue and sophistication.

Brandon chimed in with praise for his sister, his words dripping with the arrogance he inherited from Eleanor.

I saw the flicker in Mr. Sterling' s eyes when he looked at Brie. The kind of look a buyer gives an expensive, perhaps slightly fragile, piece of porcelain.

Later that evening, Eleanor cornered me.

"Mr. Sterling was very impressed with Brittany," she said, a triumphant glint in her eyes. "It seems the initial preference is clear."

I nodded. "Brie is very charming."

"Indeed. However," Eleanor' s voice dropped, "Preston Vanderbilt is a very... discerning young man. He needs a wife of strong constitution. Someone resilient."

Here it came. The setup.

The next day, Brie was "ill." Pale face, weak voice, a dramatic cough that appeared whenever Eleanor or I were near.

"Oh, Mother, I feel dreadful," she moaned from her chaise lounge. "The thought of such a... a demanding alliance... I fear my delicate health isn't up to it."

Eleanor rushed to her side, all maternal concern. "My poor baby! Of course, your health comes first."

Brandon hovered nearby. "Brie' s always been sensitive. This Vanderbilt business is too much pressure for her."

Eleanor turned to me, her expression shifting from concern to steely resolve.

"Savannah. You see how it is. Brittany is too fragile."

I met her gaze. "And I am not?"

"You are your father' s daughter, Savannah. Strong. Capable. It is your duty to this family. To secure this alliance for our advancement." Her eyes narrowed. "Refuse, and you' ll find your future prospects... limited. Your father is away; I am managing family affairs."

The threat was clear. Cooperate, or be cut off, isolated.

Last time, I argued. I cried. I pleaded. It only made them more determined.

This time, I took a breath. "If it is my duty, Eleanor, then I will do it."

A flicker of surprise in her eyes, quickly masked. She expected a fight.

"Excellent," she said, a smug smile playing on her lips. "I knew you' d see reason. You have a stronger constitution, after all."

Brie, from her lounge, offered a weak, grateful smile. "Oh, Savvy, thank you. You' re saving me."

Brandon grunted his approval. "Good. Sensible for once."

They thought they' d won. They thought I was the same naive girl.

They had no idea. My agreement was not surrender. It was the first move in my own game.

My foreknowledge was my shield and my sword. And I was just beginning to sharpen it.