I gripped the file in my cold hands, sucking in air as fast as I could as Bellamy pulled up to the giant, gray stone villa. It resembled an old-world mansion – like someone had plucked it out of a catalog, or better yet a country hillside somewhere in England. The sleek, dark sedan that Knix had rented from the Buffalo airport passed under the iron-gated stone archway. The crisp, summer grass in the middle of the circular driveway sparkled with health and vitality.

I hadn't even stepped foot out of the car and already I was feeling rather inadequate. I felt, for sure, they would know me for a phony the moment I walked through the elegant front doors. Bellamy had changed from his airport clothes – jeans and a t-shirt – into a clean-cut, button down and a pair of neat gray trousers. I glanced down at my strappy heels with a sigh. I already missed my flip-flops.

"Ready, Harley?" Bellamy asked, using my pseudonym, as he slid the car into park.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied.

“You’ll be fine,” Bellamy said quietly. “Just remember the advice Knix gave you and know that we can pull you out at any time. Keep your phone close. Keep in contact. We’ll be barely a few miles away.”

I nodded, gripping the file closer and sliding it into the purse that matched my luggage.

"Memorize it if you can," Knix had told me on the plane. "But focus on the story you're going to be telling more. The story isn't just the words that come out of your mouth. It's how you present yourself, how you speak, what you wear."

If anything, I could say that I definitely presented the story I was trying to project, the young, wealthy daughter of an upper-class Charleston family. At least, through my appearance. Marv had chosen my clothes and props with care. Bellamy got out and I waited for him to open the door for me like I was expected to. As I stepped out in my heels, the ornate, double front doors of the villa opened. An older gentleman in a pristine suit stepped out followed by two middle-aged women in refined but simple black dresses. Bellamy went to the trunk and unloaded my luggage, handing it off to one of the women who disappeared into the villa with it.

"Miss Hampton, is it?" the older man approached me with a hand extended. I took it. "My name is Earl Wallace. I am Ms. Enders' personal assistant and I help her in the management and orchestration of the etiquette courses. We're so very glad you could make it."

"I'm sorry for being late," I said with a reserved smile that Knix had coached me on. I needed to be soft-spoken, quiet, and reserved. It wouldn't make sense for me to be loud and boisterous if no one had heard of me or met me before. I thought for sure there were people in these girls' "circles", as Knix had put it, that they hadn't heard of or met before. But both he and Marv assured me that money always knew money, whatever that meant.

"It's quite alright, miss," Mr. Wallace replied. "We were informed of the delay. It couldn't be helped. Margarie here," he turned to the remaining woman and she stepped forward, "would be delighted to show you to your room. There will be a tea party at 3 pm that all ladies are required to attend. Until then, you may have leisure time to yourselves. Etiquette activities will start tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Mr. Wallace." I followed Margarie into the villa.

No matter how badly I wanted to turn around and take one last look at Bellamy, I didn't. I wouldn't risk it. We were here for a reason and with the girl from the club's image in my mind, I knew it was a very serious reason.

The inside of the mansion was just as opulent as the outside. While the stone walls of the villa had been aged with time, they had been clean. Inside, the floor had been shined to within an inch of its life. Windows let in natural light above the front doors. The sun's rays struck the crystal chandelier above and refracted a thousand glorious rainbow shapes around the room. Margarie walked through without batting an eyelash as if it was nothing to be impressed by. I tried to contain my awe and follow her lead.

We strode towards a set of rich, dark mahogany stairs. Large paintings hung on the walls as we ascended them to the second floor. From somewhere in the house, I could hear the sound of people talking. Young female voices drifted through the hallways, getting progressively louder as we approached what I suspected was the camp attendee's wing of the villa. Several young girls popped their heads out of various rooms as Margarie and I strode by. She stopped at the end of the hallway and opened a door that revealed an exquisite gold themed bedroom. It took everything I had not to let my jaw drop.

"We apologize if the room is a bit small," Margarie said in a quiet, but proper tone. "This was our last room available."

"It's fine," I assured her. More than fine, the room was...a freaking palace. The high arched ceilings, the settee on the end of a king-sized bed. I stepped further into the room, noticing that my luggage had already been delivered and left open on my bed. The clothes had been removed though. I glanced around and noticed tall mirrored doors. I went over to them and slid them open, revealing a short hallway with suede seats and my clothes hung on a rolling rack.

Keeping my gaze composed, I turned back to Margarie. "Where will the tea party be?" I asked.

"It'll be in the lounge, miss," she replied. "Is there anything more I can do for you?"

"No, thank you," I said. "You may leave now. I need to freshen up. It was a long flight and an even longer drive." It had been just over a three-hour flight to Buffalo, New York and a drive that had seemed to take longer because of all of the information I had gone over. We were nearly over the border into Canada, and had merely driven completely around Lake Ontario. I wondered, briefly, if there had been a closer airport and thought, perhaps Knix had been planning it like that for a reason.

Whatever that reason, I couldn't even consider it right now, I was too absorbed in how extravagant my temporary bedroom was. If this was one of their "smaller" rooms, I couldn't imagine what their other rooms must look like.

I sat on the bed and closed my suitcase, setting it on the floor beside the nightstand. Even the nightstand, I realized, had a marble surface. If I turned, I could see out the window behind the bed's headboard. Lush green gardens circled the side of the villa. I watched as several girls in day dresses just like mine walked together through the flowers and over the cobblestone paths. One of them paused and looked up at my window. I wasn't sure if she could see me, but when another girl came along and nudged her shoulder, she turned away without a second glance. I wondered where they were going and glanced at the clock only to realize I only had thirty minutes before the tea party would begin. They were likely already heading that way. But...hadn't Margarie said it would be held in the lounge?

I sighed and quickly closed the mirrored doors to the closet before heading into the ensuite bathroom. I stopped in the doorway and shook my head. It was large enough to be another bedroom with both a large jacuzzi tub and a separate glass shower. I washed my hands and smoothed my makeup back into place. I hardly recognized myself. My hair had been put up in an elegant twist – how Marv knew how to do hair was still a mystery – and my shift dress had been complimented by the added purse. I wondered if I needed to bring it downstairs with me.

Once in the bedroom again, I debated for several moments on whether or not it would be proper to carry a purse to a tea party. Finally deciding against it, I slipped my phone out of its case to make it less bulky and tucked it into my bra, though I doubted anything terrible would happen out in the open. I made my way into the hallway where a few girls had already gathered to walk down together. The tallest was a willowy girl in a tightly fitted, mustard yellow pencil dress.

"Hi there, you must be Harley Hampton," she said as she approached.

I looked up at her with a smile. "I am," I said. "And you are?"

She quirked an eyebrow at me curiously before holding out her hand. "Delilah Ernest, my father is Bernard Ernest – the fashion designer." She smiled before releasing my hand and looked down at her dress. "Though I'm sure you can tell. I always wear the best." I didn't have the heart to tell her my own thoughts on anything resembling a condiment, so all I did was give her another of Harley's signature small smiles.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I said politely.

"We're about to head down to the lounge," she said. "Would you like to join us?" She gestured towards the two other girls waiting just a few feet away.

"I would be honored." Together, Delilah and her friends – Natalia and Isador Sevilla, who I learned were sisters related to some distant lesser nobility in Spain – showed me through what was referred to as the grand hall where the foyer morphed into a larger hallway on the ground floor. Several French inspired doors led off into various rooms: a ballroom, a library, and a study.

"Ladies," a petite woman in a midnight blue pantsuit greeted us at the door with a clipboard. Natalia and Isador, who I learned were more reserved and conservative than their friend, merely nodded and rushed by.

Delilah moved a bit slower. "Good afternoon, Ms. Enders," she said before breezing past.

I paused and took a second to look at the woman. So, this was the mysterious benefactor and instructor of Ms. Ender's Etiquette Camp for Refined Young Ladies. "I assume you must be our new arrival, Miss Hampton?" She tipped her head in my direction, a pen poised at her clipboard. I nodded. "Well, you'll be at table eleven. All tables have their numbers and name placements. You should be able to find your seat."

I examined her and as I did, noticed she did the same to me. Her flat, blue eyes roamed over my dress with a bland look and her mouth pinched in at the side as if she didn't appreciate what she saw. "Yes, ma'am," I replied. "Thank you."

I moved past her and through a room that equaled the rest of the villa in opulence and extravagance. It seemed that Ms. Enders' certainly liked her home with as much luxury as she could afford. I wondered how much the guys had to pay in order for me to attend this camp of hers.

I found my seat, as she had directed, at the back of the room, towards the far windows that overlooked the same gardens as my bedroom. The table was already mostly filled. The Sevilla sisters were there, though it looked like Delilah had been seated at a table closer to the front, along with a mousy girl with her nose buried in a book. I smirked when I recognized it was a new best seller.

I took my seat. Just as I was about to say something, there was a ringing noise from the front of the room. I watched as Ms. Enders stepped up alongside her personal assistant, Mr. Wallace. Together, they made a striking pair. Though it was obvious that Mr. Wallace was older, Ms. Enders' strait-laced persona complimented his. I glanced at the remaining empty seat at the table curiously, but now was not the time to ask.

Ms. Enders spoke. “Good afternoon, ladies. First of all, I would like to remind everyone that tomorrow’s lesson will begin in the ballroom and not in the garden as per usual. I have requested a few gentlemen stop by with the instructor as we go through what is expected when dancing at the functions I will be preparing you for.”

As she continued on, I watched the surrounding faces reflect two reactions: one, bored as hell and two, enraptured by the idea of social gatherings and society functions. I started to wonder if someone had dropped me a couple hundred years in the past. Ms. Enders spoke of her lessons as though they were the key to a perfect life. She stressed the importance of her lessons – learning how to dance, how to make polite conversation, which utensils to use at which time for which meal. I glanced down at my place setting at the table, trying not to show my panic.

One of the Sevilla sisters – Natalia – noticed. She leaned over. “Don’t worry,” she whispered in her perfect English. “Most of the American girls here aren’t familiar with place ware. Ms. Enders is sure to go over that.”

I nodded gratefully, but inside I was still confused. Why did any of this stuff matter? I turned back towards Ms. Enders and continued to give the illusion that I was paying attention. I was distracted, however, when the doors opened again and Margarie – the woman who had shown me to my room – and the other woman who had taken my luggage appeared, leading several other women dressed in much the same clothing. There were thirteen of them total, and each carried heavy trays of antique silver tea kettles and their matching milk and sugar holders. Not one of them hesitated as they strode through the room with their burdens. The one who came to our table was a brown skinned woman with a soft and clear complexion. She set the tray down in the center of the table before turning and stepping back against the far wall with the rest of the women.

“Now,” Ms. Enders called brightly, “let us begin.”

* * *

“That was quite possibly the most painful lesson I’ve ever had,” I couldn’t help but say as Natalia, Isador, and Delilah moved out into the hall with me.

Delilah laughed, the sound beautiful and tinkling. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet," she promised.

I grimaced. I hadn't seen anything yet, she was right, but I could just imagine and that was bad enough.

"No," Delilah said when she caught my expression, "trust me, as unlikely as it sounds, she can and will get worse."

"You sound like you're talking from experience," I said curiously.

Natalia and Isador giggled as Delilah shrugged. "I've been here a couple of times. My mom's one of Ms. Enders' friends. She's been sending me and my sisters here for ages. Lucky for them, they're all married now or overseas or working. I'm all on my own now."

"You're not on your own," Natalia spoke up, reaching for Delilah's arm. "We're here with you."

Delilah shot her and her sister a smile. "Thank you." She said, straightening her shoulders. "But soon it won't matter. This is my last year at these stupid camps."

"Oh?" I asked.

Delilah nodded, smiling brightly now. "I'm going to Greece in August," she admitted. "My parents are going to let me do an exchange program for my senior year and then I'll be off to college. The exchange program will keep me from coming here during the winter." Her pretty face blanched. "If you can believe it, it's even worse then."

Just as I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh, a firm voice called our attention. "Ladies." I slowly turned and took in Ms. Enders as she approached, her trusty clipboard in hand. I looked at it curiously. "I trust you will practice what you have learned today with each other in your free time."

"Yes, Ms. Enders," Natalia, Isador, and Delilah said in unison. I jumped and mumbled the same.

Ms. Enders watched the four of us and, for some reason, I got the strange sensation that she was looking for something. But then her gaze landed on Delilah for an extended period of time. "Lilah," she said, her voice lowering and gentling into a friendlier tone, though her eyes remained razor sharp, "you seemed to have some trouble remembering to keep your back straight while you were sitting in your seat today. I would expect someone who has been taking my lessons for as long as you have to set a better example."

I watched as Delilah's face flamed red, the blush stealing across her cheeks. Though she didn't glance to me or the twins, it was obvious she was incredibly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Ms. Enders," she said quietly. "I'll remember from now on."

"See that you do, dear," Ms. Enders said. "Especially since this will be your last cotillion with us."

Ms. Enders strode away with Mr. Wallace, who I hadn't noticed standing just behind her.

Isador scoffed, "What a witch."

"What?" I turned back to them.

Delilah's color was still high. "It's nothing," she said, shaking her head and turning toward the opposite end of the hallway Mr. Wallace and Ms. Enders had retreated down.

"Ms. Enders is so jealous of Delilah, it's not even funny." Isador’s accent grew thicker in her irritation.

"No, she isn't." Delilah rolled her eyes.

"She is," Natalia confirmed with a nod. "You don't see it because you've known her for too long and her and your mom are close."

"And as for the cotillion," Isador took over, "it's complete and utter trash."

"Now, that's definitely not true," Delilah said as we turned a corner as a group. Ahead there were double doors leading outside. We headed towards them and I wondered if the guys were tracking me through the house via my phone. I knew they had put a tracking device in it just before we arrived – for emergencies they had assured me. "Ms. Enders spends a lot of money on the ‘end of course’ parties."

"I just meant that it's not a real cotillion," Isador replied.

I decided it was time to get real information. I was here for a reason and even though these girls were incredibly sweet and had welcomed me with open arms, I needed to remember the goal here. I needed information on Ms. Enders and perhaps the rest of the staff.

"So, does Ms. Enders normally approach girls and rebuke them like that?" I asked when we reached the doors. Natalia opened the door and held it for the rest of us, shaking her head as she followed behind.

"It's not like that," Delilah said before Natalia could respond. "Ms. Enders really is nice. She just has to keep a certain image."

Natalia shook her head again and rolled her eyes. "Don't you think," she began, "that it's a little odd that she never married? How old is she again?"

Delilah strained her lips in a frown. "Why does it matter if she's never been married?" She turned and stopped.

Natalia shrugged. "I'm just saying, it's a little odd. She's also surrounded by young women who have the rest of their lives ahead of them and she's a middle-aged lonely woman."

"Maybe she wants to be alone," Delilah defended. "Have you ever thought about that?"

I stopped and took a moment to take in our surroundings. We were along the side of the villa in the garden that my bedroom overlooked. I glanced up and sure enough, there were several windows on the second floor with one at the very end that had gold curtains. Thick ivy crawled over the rest of the stone walls, up and over the first-floor shutters on either side of the windows and further, towards the roof.

"Why are we out here?" I asked, changing the subject. They had given me enough to think on. A part of me wished that I could write it all down, but even I knew that would look suspicious.

"We're heading down to the lake," Delilah said and we started walking again.

"There's a lake here?"

We stopped at a steep drop off at the edge of what I thought was the villa's back gardens. It swept down in an incline all the way to where several girls were already laying out, enjoying the sun. My lips parted as I took it all in. The sun shone down on the sparkling lake. It was practically a swimming pool except that it was too large, stretched long enough for there to be a short running track around it. The track stopped in one spot where several girls had laid out towels. Some were even in their swimsuits, splashing around in the water.

"There aren't any snakes or alligators in the water, right?" I asked.

All three girls looked at me like I was crazy, and I remembered that there were no alligators in the north. Those were almost strictly a southern creature. I blushed. "Sorry, that was dumb."

Natalia and Isador shook their heads, laughing. Delilah smiled and put her hand on my arm. "Don't worry about it. I could tell you weren't from New York by your accent."

"I have an accent?"

Natalia and Isador turned and headed towards a set of stone stairs that led down to the lake. It made sense, trying to walk down the incline would have been far too dangerous.

Delilah snorted daintily. "Yes, it's sweet though. Southern...almost Charlestonian?" she asked curiously. I panicked as I grasped the iron handrail and descended with the group. But there was no reason for me to panic. Knix was from Charleston, it only made sense that his cousin – I – was as well. That was believable.

"Yea," I said, then I followed it up with, "you have a good ear."

Delilah shrugged. "I like accents. It's why I became friends with these two." She gestured towards the twins who whipped around as they hit the bottom steps.

"You love us," Natalia said, "just because we're us."

Delilah shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Sure, Talia," she said, "whatever you say."

Natalia didn't comment on Delilah's amusement. She and her twin simply nodded their heads before they turned and headed off, their dark curls bouncing in time with their steps. I watched them go before turning to Delilah.

"Do you want to take a walk with me?" I asked. Though I had ulterior motives in wanting to talk with Delilah, because it was obvious she knew the most about Ms. Enders, I also liked her quite a bit already. I had expected the girls here to be mean or cruel like they were in movies. They all dressed nicely, it was true. They had their hair and nails done. They were all made up like perfect dolls, but so far, they had been anything but mean.

"Sure," Delilah said, and we headed for the track.

We left the squealing girls in the water behind – there were buoys and ropes in the water that kept them from swimming the length of the lake, and before long they were pinpricks in the distance. The lake was longer than I originally thought, at least a mile around. We could still see them and if I squinted, I could probably point out Natalia and Isador.

"I've always liked coming out here," Delilah said as we stopped across the lake from the others. "It's calming. In the winter, the lake ices over and, sometimes, Julia lets us go ice skating."

I noted the way that she said Julia – calling Ms. Enders by her first name. It wasn’t only in my file, I recalled Marv's mom mentioning the woman's first name when we had tea.

"She seemed a little harsh on you earlier," I said.

Delilah shook her head, "She didn't mean to be. She's always been like that. She's really proper and a lot of people take that as her being stuck up and snobby, but she's not."

"Are you sure?" I questioned. "What if Isador had a point and she's jealous of you?"

Delilah shook her head vehemently. "No one gets her." She turned to me in quick jerky movements. "You just got here," she said, "don't judge her yet."

I put my hands up to placate her. "I'm not, I was just making a statement."

"Just because I don't want to come back here and I don't enjoy the etiquette lessons doesn't mean that she's a bad person." Delilah’s chest rose and fell with her movements.

"You seem worked up," I pointed out gently. "I promise you–" It felt so wrong to lie, but I knew it was necessary. I needed to shelf my feelings and just get through with this "–I'm not here to judge anyone."

Delilah looked at me for several more moments, as if scrutinizing my sincerity. She must have decided in my favor because after a few moments the tension in her shoulders eased and she turned back to look across the lake. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just been really hard for Julia lately. There have been some outrageous rumors spread about her and the girls who come to her camps."

"Rumors?" I wanted to talk about this and leaned in closer. "What kind of rumors?"

Her eyes settled on me once more. "Why are you so interested?" she asked.

I froze for a split second before forcing myself to shrug and turn away. My nerves felt frayed and my muscles knotted. I wanted so badly to open up Delilah's head and pick out whatever I needed. This whole undercover thing, I realized, was great in small doses. But I was emotionally involved in this case and I had to temper myself to keep from bulldozing through this and messing it all up.

"I'm sorry," I said. "It's just that I'm new here and–" I paused for a split second, debating on how far I wanted to take this. I took a breath and continued. "I've heard some things," I admitted, "and I was a little nervous about coming here. I’m not really all that good with...well, the etiquette stuff.”

Delilah put a hand on my arm, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “No one ever is. Come on, let’s head back.” She took my hand and tugged me forward. For a split second, I felt like I could see my best friend’s face in hers – Erika was just like these girls, I realized. All girls had something special in them, something unique, but we were bonded, too, by what we were – just girls. We were the weaker sex in some ways, but we were incredibly strong in others.