Meredith looked at the mansion with a thrill of excitement. She couldn't believe she was here, in America. Let alone at this party, which was going to be attended by some of the most interesting people in New York.
"Don't stare like that," her mother said with a sneer. "And straighten your back. Show the Americans that the British, at least, have some style."
"Yes, mother," Meredith said and lowered her eyes. "I will, mother."
Lady Sylvia McCardill nodded and turned her attention back to the house. "Good. Now let us get this over with quickly. I don't want to stay any longer than I have to."
"Certainly." Meredith looked in awe at the lights in the garden as they drove past. "We will leave as soon as we can."
"It is unfortunate we had to come in the first place, but that dreadful man insisted on it."
"Mr. Gardner only wants to show us a good time during our stay here, mother," Meredith said.
Her mother gave a very un-ladylike snort. "He could have taken us on some more appropriate pastime, if you ask me."
Meredith nodded, knowing her mother wouldn't change her mind. She was happy Mr. Gardner had insisted on them coming here. That meant a break from the dreadfully boring tea receptions her mother was so fond of. Besides, she had heard that her favorite actor might be here.
The car stopped right before the entrance, and they walked side-by-side into the mansion. A marble staircase to the right dominated the room, and to the left Meredith could hint a large ballroom from which she could hear the tunes of a saxophone.
"Lady Sylvia," Mr. Gardner said and walked up to them. "I'm so glad you could make it tonight. I trust the journey wasn't too arduous?"
"Not at all," Sylvia said with a pleasant smile. Meredith's mother was as skilled an actor as anyone in Hollywood.
"And Lady McCardill," Mr. Gardner said, turning to Meredith. "You look lovelier than ever. May I introduce you to some of my other guests?"
"I would be honored," Meredith said. Then her eyes fell on a man that had been standing to Mr. Gardner's side. He wore a pin-striped black suit, and his black hair was combed back in the current fashion. His dark-brown eyes narrowed slightly as he smiled at her, and she thought she might faint.
"In that case, I would like to introduce you to Leonard Rosenberg," Mr. Gardner said.
"Oh, I know who he is," she said and blushed. "Who haven't seen The Stage, or Fidelity?"
"You've heard of me?" Leonard said. "I'm flattered."
Meredith's body tingled as he slowly lifted her gloved hand to his mouth and gave it a soft peck. Breathless, all she could do was to smile.
"Charming," Sylvia said and clutched Meredith's arm in a hard grip. "Now let's see if we can find some decent company."
"Mother!" Meredith said, but she had no choice but to be dragged away into the ballroom.
"Oh, how fortunate," Sylvia said, running her eyes over the crowd. "That is Sir Richard Trentham and his lovely wife. Do stay here, dear. I doubt they'll find your company very interesting."
Meredith nodded and remained behind, more pleased with being left alone than insulted by her mother's comment. The crowd around her was full of strange faces, and the music playing was different to anything she had ever heard.
"Do you like it?" a voice said in her ear.
She spun around and gasped as she found herself face to face with Leonard Rosenberg again. "I love it," she managed to say. "What is it?"
"Louis Armstrong, I believe he's called. Care for a drink?"
Meredith swallowed a lump of nervousness in her throat and accepted his arm. Being so near him made her dizzy with excitement. She had dreamed that she would one day get to see him and talk to him. Her mother would consider it inappropriate, of course, but her mother seemed to think everything was inappropriate these days. Times changed, and Sylvia McCardill wanted no part of it.
Meredith did, though. When she sipped the sparkling wine and listened to the hauntingly thrilling sounds coming from the phonograph, she thought she couldn't be happier.
"I see you are enjoying the party," Leonard said.
"More than you can imagine." Meredith smiled and lowered her eyes. "I do love these lights, the music, the dancing."
"You like jazz, then?" Leonard smile and brushed a hand against her arm. "Perhaps I could show you around town sometime. We have wonderful jazz bars I think you might like."
Meredith trembled slightly at his touch. Her body felt warm, and it wasn't all because of the wine.
"I would love that," she said. "However, my mother... She is very traditional, you see."
"I see," Leonard said and smiled. "But what your mother doesn't know won't hurt her. And this is the land of the free."
Heat rose to Meredith's face, and she averted her eyes. "That is true, Mr. Rosenberg. However, I..."
She let herself drift off, not knowing how to end the sentence. Leonard's eyes seemed to melt her body, make her warm and aching with a sudden, unfamiliar desire.
"Will you dance with me?" Leonard asked.
"Oh yes, certainly," Meredith said. Then her eyes fell on her mother across the ballroom, and she sighed. "Though I shouldn't."
Leonard followed her eyes and nodded. "There is no reason your mother should stop you from having some fun. Come with me, I'll show you."