Catherine seemed startled, then disconcerted, when Julian announced we would be going to the club with her, but she recovered quickly. I hoped she could keep Julian from drinking too much.
She insisted on loaning me one of her dresses, a lovely creation of sky-blue chiffon, and Mali basted the hem to accommodate for my shorter height. I giggled with excitement as Catherine added a sweep of gray eyeshadow, a dusting of pink rouge, and magenta lipstick to my face. She pulled my hair back on one side and attached a sparkly blue butterfly barrette. We stood next to each other in front of the mirror, she in her lavender silk, me in the blue chiffon, grinning and admiring ourselves.
As we started downstairs, Catherine took my hand. “Julian is very susceptible right now. Be careful. Hearts can be broken on all sides.”
“I only want to be friends.”
Julian was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking stunning in his black tie and dinner jacket, hair slicked back. “Magnificent! How can one man be so lucky to escort two such gorgeous ladies?”
We found Marguerite at the Cercle sitting at the bar, and we all continued on to the dining room. The maître d’ led us to a table near the dance floor. Catherine and Marguerite seemed to know everyone, greeting friends as we walked past. Several women nodded and smiled at Julian with an unspoken invitation. Once again I felt the unwelcoming eyes of other guests raking over me.
“Shall we have champagne, ladies?” Julian asked in high spirits.
Catherine shot him a look. “Let’s take it easy tonight. A bottle of wine with dinner will be enough.”
“Don’t I even get a cocktail?” Marguerite complained.
“Catherine’s right,” Julian said. “We must set a better example for Vivi.” He grinned at me. I hated to be blamed for curtailing their fun, but it was a relief.
“It’s the usual boring crowd,” Marguerite said, sighing. “The same couples come every Saturday night.”
“Oh well, the food is always good, and the music is nice,” Catherine said, lighting a cigarette. “Who are those men sitting with the Resident Superior? I’ve never seen them before.”
“They met with him yesterday at his office,” Marguerite said. “The big fat one is German and the other two are Dutch. They claim to be looking for investment opportunities in Laos.”
“What exactly would those be?” Julian scoffed. “They’re probably planning to hunt tigers and elephants illegally under the guise of business. Look on the bright side, ladies. There are more single men to dance with.” He laughed. “Although I’d watch my toes with that German fellow.”
I spotted a table on the far side of the room, and my heart skipped a beat. A French couple were seated with Prince Phetsarath, Prince Souvanna and his companion Aline Allard. There was a second woman with them who looked a great deal like Aline. I was thankful that Bounmy was not among them, for they had not yet left for Bangkok, it seemed.
Slow jazz tunes drifted over the room as we ate our meal. “I’m afraid it’s records on the gramophone tonight,” Catherine said. “Sometimes there is a small band.”
Marguerite tossed her head back and laughed. “Believe me, the records are much better than that sorry excuse for a band.”
As we finished our entrees, a livelier foxtrot started up, and two couples immediately stepped onto the dance floor. Julian jumped up and extended his hand. “Mademoiselle, may I have the honor of this dance?”
Flustered and uncertain, I followed him out. “You’ll have to remind me of what to do.”
Julian smiled reassuringly and took my right hand, placing his other arm lightly around my back, maintaining a proper distance. “It’s a foxtrot, like we did at the house. You’ll be fine.”
Julian counted softly in my ear for the first few turns until I found my footing. All the while I blushed crimson, sure everyone would notice my clumsiness. We danced a second song, circling about the room, lost in the rhythm. Julian smiled and squeezed my hand.
As the music ended, I glanced up and froze. Bounmy stood in the doorway to the dining room, staring directly at me with wide eyes. His expression darkened. He gave a curt nod and proceeded to Prince Phetsarath’s table, taking a chair next to the other young woman in the party.
I sat down, my legs shaking. Julian led Marguerite to the dance floor, and a shy young lieutenant asked Catherine to dance. My stomach churned. Why had I come? I looked over surreptitiously and spied Bounmy sitting up very straight, his face devoid of expression. The woman next to him chatted away, smiling, tilting her head coyly to one side. A dinner plate was placed in front of Bounmy, but he didn’t touch the food. An intense jealousy overcame me until I could hardly breathe. Did he not invite me out on Saturday nights because he was sharing them with this woman?
Julian and Marguerite returned when the song ended. Julian looked at me, his expression defiant, and I knew he had spotted Bounmy. He grabbed my arm roughly as a waltz started to play. “Come.” He pulled me close, twirling me around the room until everything was a blur. I closed my eyes, wanting to disappear.
“Your prince is here,” Julian whispered in my ear. “You know he won’t speak to you in front of his family and all these people.” His voice was angry. “But we’re having fun, aren’t we?”
Julian was right. Bounmy would never acknowledge me, a lowly métisse, in this public place with his royal family. He needed to keep me hidden.
By the time the dance ended, Bounmy’s chair was empty.
Julian asked Catherine to dance, and I sat down next to Marguerite. She whispered in my ear: “You’re here with Julian. Enjoy the evening.” She filled my wine glass. “Drink.”
I took a large gulp of wine, telling myself I had no reason to feel bad, nor any need to explain myself to Bounmy. Julian was only a friend. But my heart ached.
Bounmy never returned. For the rest of the evening, Julian and I danced to almost every song. Spinning around the room in his arms took my mind off Bounmy, as did another glass of wine. In between foxtrots, waltzes, and tangos, we gyrated to the Charleston and the Black Bottom Stomp, laughing with abandon.
The evening wound down, and the music turned slow and melancholy. Lucienne Boyer sang “Parlez-Moi D’Amour.” Julian pulled me close with trembling arms and nestled his face in my hair. He smelled of sweat and a woodsy-scented soap. My cheek resting against his shoulder, I listened to the calming, steady beat of his heart.
The night ended at midnight. Exhausted, we dragged ourselves home, Julian holding on to Catherine’s and my arms. We had finished two bottles of wine over the course of the evening, leaving us slightly tipsy, but far from drunk. Instead, I was intoxicated by the thrill of the music and dancing. And if truth be told, I’d thoroughly enjoyed being in Julian’s arms, even as questions about Bounmy continued to haunt me. Why hadn’t he said hello to me? Why had he left so abruptly?
Catherine went upstairs, leaving us in the entry hall.
“Thank you for the evening,” Julian said with a silly grin on his face. He bent down and gave me a quick, light kiss.
I felt my cheeks grow warm. “I had a wonderful time.”
He hesitated a moment. “I care for you deeply, Vivi. I don’t want to see you hurt. At some point, Bounmy will break your heart.”
I glanced away, not wanting to hear his prediction, even if it might be true. “I’m very tired.”
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me with a longing I understood, the longing I felt for Bounmy. For a moment, I succumbed to his embrace, melting into his arms and lips. I felt safe, at home. If Bounmy were not in my life, how different might things be with Julian?
I stepped back, my heart beating madly. “Goodnight.” I ran upstairs and closed my door, turning the lock, not sure if I was frightened of Julian or myself. I flopped on the bed, drowning in a sea of bewilderment and guilt. Thoughts of Bounmy left me with nothing but questions, doubts, and an immense ache. Had he been angry, or—worse—hurt, to see me with Julian? But what did he expect of me? What was his relationship to the woman next to him? Most of all, how could I explain my feelings for Julian when I adored Bounmy? Perhaps it was possible to care for two people at the same time. Love, infatuation, desire, friendship—these tangled emotions made life more complicated than I’d ever imagined. And Bridgette was no longer there to give me counsel.