Chapter 8 - The Reading of the Band
A dead, suffocating silence fell over the cathedral. Genevieve half-rose from her seat in the front pew, her face tightening with panic. ""Lily, darling, this is not the time. Continue the service, Reverend.""
""Reverend Bradley,"" Lily said, completely ignoring her mother and turning to the aging pastor, who had known the Ashford family for thirty years. ""You knew my grandfather, Walter Ashford, didn't you?""
The minister looked bewildered, adjusting his spectacles. ""Yes, of course, Lily. I officiated his memorial service many years ago.""
""My mother told me this ring belonged to four generations of Ashford women,"" Lily continued, her voice gaining strength, echoing off the high stone arches. ""She told society magazines that it was an ancestral jewel brought from England. But I took this ring to an independent appraiser two hours ago in the cathedral basement, and we cleaned the inside of the band.""
Genevieve went pale as marble. ""Lily, sit down! You are making a grotesque scene!""
""Read the inscription, Reverend,"" Lily said, holding the diamond out toward the minister. ""Read it aloud into the microphone. Let everyone hear the noble Ashford legacy.""
Reverend Bradley hesitated, looking nervously between the frantic mother and the determined bride. But the weight of four hundred staring guests forced his hand. He took the ring, stepped to the pulpit microphone, and squinted through his reading glasses at the interior curve of the platinum band.
His expression changed instantly. His eyes widened, and a profound, uncomfortable sorrow crossed his face.
""Read it, please,"" Lily commanded gently.
The minister cleared his throat. The sound amplified through the cathedral speakers like a crack of thunder.
""'M.B. to W.A.,'"" Reverend Bradley read slowly, his voice echoing into the rafters. ""'Forever My Equal. 1962.'""
A collective gasp swept through the sanctuary.
In the second row, Odessa Dunmore bowed her head, tears quietly slipping beneath her veil and tracing the deep lines of her cheeks.
Genevieve lunged forward, grasping the marble railing at the base of the altar. ""Stop this! Reverend, hand that to me immediately! This is a private family matter!""
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""Who is M.B., Mother?"" Lily asked, looking down from the altar steps, her eyes burning with pure, unadulterated shame for the woman who had raised her. ""Because your mother’s name was Eleanor Vance. And your grandmother was Beatrice Sterling. There has never been an 'M.B.' in the Ashford family tree.""
Genevieve’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. The woman who had commanded boardrooms and gala committees stood completely paralyzed, stripped bare before the very socialites whose approval had been her religion.
