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Chapter One

One might have supposed that the sight of four police cars roaring up to the Wemberley estate, their lights tumbling and sirens wailing, might have captured Lucinda Hollander's attention. Especially since, when it happened, she was gazing out the window, wishing something exciting would happen at Babs and Barclay Wemberley's annual, Endsummer Night's Dream masque. So not only did the sight capture her attention, she was grateful for it. The former because of the wish fulfillment angle -- certainly it gave her pause to think about what she might wish for in the future -- and the latter because it gave her something to focus on besides the conversation going on around her, something she preferred not to focus on, quite frankly, because that conversation focused on, well, her.

What captured even more of Lucinda's attention -- and gratitude -- was when lots police officers armed with lots of guns began to pour out of those four police cars. Because let's face it: A hundred and fifty adult people dressed as enchanted woodland creatures had nothing on real police officers wielding real guns.

Naturally, the first thing she did upon seeing said police officers -- not to mention said guns -- was to turn away from the massive Palladian window in the Wemberley ballroom to remark upon the new development to her mother and older sister, who, as they always did at functions like this one, had affixed themselves to Lucinda's sides. This practice was common for Francesca and Antoinetta Hollander, because they always feared that Lucinda might say or do something that would embarrass (read: defame, dishonor, and/or disgrace) the Hollander name throughout Newport, Rhode Island. Not that Lucinda ever had said or done anything that would embarrass (read: defame, dishonor, and/or disgrace) the Hollander name throughout Newport, Rhode Island, mind you. But Francesca and Antoinetta -- and Lucinda's father and older brother, for that matter -- always wanted to make sure, just in case. Affixing themselves to the general vicinity of Lucinda's sides whenever possible -- even Richard and Emory Hollander weren't more than a half dozen steps away from her at the moment -- seemed the most effective way to do that.

But whatever remark Lucinda had been ready to utter about police officers and guns was halted when she saw that Francesca and Antoinetta were busily chatting with the fourth member of their little conversational party -- Mimi Van Meter, also known as Mrs. Wentworth Van Meter. Mr. Van Meter was the newest of Richard Hollander's executive vice presidents at First Union Bank, where he himself was president and CEO. So Lucinda hesitated before speaking up. After all, she didn't want to be rude.

But then she heard what her mother and Antoinetta were busily chatting about with Mrs. Van Meter, and couldn't quite help wondering how she might indeed interrupt -- politely, of course -- barring whacking one or the other of her family members upside the head with a blunt object. Because they were chatting about their favorite topic under the sun: Why Lucinda Hollander Is an Underachiever. One would think that since they considered her something of an embarrassment (read: defamer, dishonorer, and/or disgracer) to the family, they would discuss anything except Why Lucinda Hollander Is an Underachiever. But nooooo ... Instead, they always had to be sure everyone in Newport understood that they were aware of the fact that Lucinda Hollander Is an Underachiever, but that the Hollanders, of course, were Not to Blame.

"Well, it's only because she has a different learning pattern, you see," her mother was telling Mrs. Van Meter. "Her teachers never bothered to make allowances for the fact that she simply learned differently from the other children. And, of course, Lucinda would never apply herself to learn new things on her own. She's not the kind to take any sort of initiative. I suppose she is a bit lazy in that regard. She never made good grades at school, but it wasn't because she was stupid. Hollanders simply are not stupid."

"Hollanders aren't lazy, either," Antoinetta was quick to point out, "at least, the rest of us aren't. Lucinda must have gotten some rogue gene that Emory and I thankfully escaped."

And she'd also gotten the best costume of the three of them this evening, too, Lucinda couldn't help adding to herself, feeling a bit smug in that -- mainly because she couldn't feel smug about anything else when it came to family matters. Emory was the academic star, with his Ph.D. in microbiology and his research grant from Johns Hopkins. And Antoinetta was the social standout, with her golden good looks, her sterling personality, and her endless supply of suitors and invitations. But Lucinda was dressed most appropriately for the party's theme of "Centaurs and Satyrs and Elves, Oh My," having opted for a wood nymph motif, complete with wispy, white diaphanous gown and flowers woven into her waist-length blond braid and silvery shadow adorning her blue eyes. All modesty aside, it put Richard's clunky gargoyle suit (and Lucinda had politely refrained from pointing out that gargoyles did not qualify as woodland creatures, seeing as how they were more urban in nature), and Antoinetta's much-too-revealing fairy costume (or, at least, it would have been revealing, had Antoinetta had something to reveal in that regard) to shame.

So there.

"Oh, don't be silly, Antoinetta," Lucinda's mother was saying now. "There are no rogue genes in the Hollander DNA. The Hollander DNA is extremely well established, not to mention flawless. Lucinda has a different learning pattern, that's all. And she never takes the initiative.

Antoinetta nodded after realizing her gaffe. "Different learning pattern," she repeated dutifully. "That's what she has. Though, honestly, try convincing some people of that. Did you know," she told Mrs. Van Meter ...