CHAPTER IX
It was with a sigh of relief that Beatrice found herself at lengthalone. There was nothing for her to do now but to get her belongingstogether and leave the hotel. There would be an inquest on the body ofSir Charles at ten o'clock the following morning, as the authorities hadalready informed her, but Beatrice had looked upon this as merely aformal affair. She would pack her things and leave them in Sir Charles'sdressing-room--the door of which had not been sealed--and send foreverything on the morrow. All her costly presents, including thewonderful diamonds from Stephen Richford, she had entirely forgotten. Asomewhat tired detective was still watching the jewels in a room off thehall where the wedding breakfast was laid out. But the fact had escapedBeatrice's attention.
Lady Rashborough was having tea alone in her boudoir when Beatricearrived. Her pretty little ladyship was not looking quite so amiable asusual and there was the suggestion of a frown on her face. She had beenlosing a great deal at bridge lately, and that was not the kind ofpastime that Rashborough approved. He was very fond of his empty, hard,selfish, little wife, but he had put his foot down on gambling, and LadyRashborough had been forced to give her promise to discontinue it. Thelittle woman cared nothing for anyone but herself, and she had smallsympathy for Beatrice.
"What are you doing here?" she asked pettishly. "Where is your husband?"
"That I cannot tell you," Beatrice replied. "You hardly expected that Ishould have started on my honeymoon under such circumstances, did you?"
"My dear child, don't talk nonsense! Of course not. The proper thing isto go to some very quiet hotel and dine respectably--to lie low till thefuneral is over. Of course this is all very annoying, especially as youhave such a lovely lot of new frocks and all the rest of it, but I daresay they will come in later on. Not that it matters, seeing that youhave a husband who could stifle you in pretty frocks and never miss themoney. What a funny girl you are, Bee. You don't seem to appreciate yourgood luck at all."
"You regard me as exceedingly lucky, then?" Beatrice asked quietly.
"My dear girl, lucky is not the word for it. Of course Stephen Richfordis not what I call an ideal husband, but with his amazing riches----"
"Which are nothing to me, Adela," Beatrice said. "I have discovered theman to be a degraded and abandoned scoundrel. From the first I alwayshated and detested him; I only consented to marry him for the sake of myfather. Adela, I am going to tell you the discovery that I made in myfather's bedroom this morning."
In a few words Beatrice told her story. But if she expected any outburstof indignation from her listener, she was doomed to disappointment. Thelittle figure in the big arm chair didn't move--there was a smile ofcontempt on her face.
"Good gracious, what a little thing to fuss about!" she cried. "Itseems to me that the man was paying you a compliment. If I had been inyour place I should have said nothing till I wanted to get the whip handof my husband. My dear child, you don't mean to say that you are goingto take the matter seriously!"
Beatrice felt the unbidden tears gathering in her eyes. She had beensorely taxed and shaken to-day, and she was longing more than she knewfor a little sympathy. People had told her before that Lady Rashboroughhad no heart, and she was beginning to believe it.
"Do you mean to say," Beatrice stammered, "do you really want me tobelieve--that----"
"Of course I do, you goose. Money is everything. I married Rashboroughbecause it was the best thing that offered, and I did not want tooverstay my market. It was all a question of money. I would have marrieda satyr if he had been rich enough. And you sit there telling me thatyou are going to leave Stephen Richford."
"I shall never speak to him again. He and I have finished. I have nomoney, no prospects, no anything. But I decline to return to StephenRichford."
"And so you are going to have a fine scandal," Lady Rashborough cried,really angry at last. "You think you are going to hang about here posingas a victim till something turns up. I dare say that Rashborough wouldbe on your side because he is of that peculiar class of silly billy, butyou may be sure that I shall not stand it. As a matter of fact, youcan't stay here, Beatrice. I rather like Richford; he gives me littletips, and he has helped me over my bridge account more than once. If heshould come here to dinner----"
Beatrice rose, her pride in arms at once. It was put pretty well, but itwas cold, and hard, and heartless, and the gist of it was that Beatricewas practically ordered out of the house. She had hoped to remain here afew weeks, at any rate until she could find rooms. She was pleased torecall that she had not sent her things.
"You need not trouble to put it any more plainly," she said coldly. "Inthe eyes of your Smart Set, I have done a foolish thing, and you declineto have me here for the present. Very well, I shall not appeal to Frank,though I am quite sure what he would say if I did. All the same, I couldnot tax the hospitality of one who tells me plainly that she does notwant me."
Beatrice rose and moved towards the door. With a little toss of herhead, Lady Rashborough took up the French novel she had been reading asBeatrice entered. Thus she wiped her hands of the whole affair; thus ina way she pronounced the verdict of Society upon Bee's foolish conduct.But the girl's heart was very heavy within her as she walked back to the_Royal Palace Hotel_. It was only an earnest of the hard things thatwere going to happen.
And she had no money, nothing beyond a stray sovereign or two in herpurse. She had taken off most of her jewellery with the exception of anold diamond bangle of quaint design. She hated the sight of it now asshe hated the sight of anything that suggested wealth and money. With afirm resolve in her mind, Beatrice turned into a large jeweller's shopin Bond Street. The firm was very well known to her; they had suppliedthe family for years with the costly trifles that women love. The headof the house would see her at once, and to him Beatrice told her story.A little later, and with a comfortably lighter heart, she made her wayback to the _Royal Palace Hotel_ with a sum of money considerably overtwo hundred pounds in her purse.
The manager of the hotel was sympathetic. Unfortunately the house wasfull, but Beatrice could have Sir Charles's sitting-room and thedressing-room where a bed could be put up. And would Mrs.Richford--Beatrice started at the name--give instructions as to thosepresents?
"I had quite forgotten them," Beatrice said. "Will you please haveeverything, except some jewels that I will take care of, locked up inyour safe. There are some diamonds which I am going to give into thehands of Mr. Richford at once. I am so sorry to trouble you."
But it was no trouble at all to the polite manager. He begged that Mrs.Richford would let him take everything off her hands. Wearily Beatricecrept down to dinner with a feeling that she would never want to eatanything again. She watched that brilliant throng about her sadly; shesat in the drawing-room after dinner, a thing apart from the rest. Ahandsome, foreign-looking woman came up to her and sat down on the samesettee.
"I hope you will not think that I am intruding," the lady said. "Such asad, sad time for you, dear. Did you ever hear your father speak ofCountess de la Moray?"
Beatrice remembered the name perfectly well. She had often heard herfather speak of the Countess in terms of praise. The lady smiled in asad, retrospective way.
"We were very good friends," she said. "I recollect you in Paris whenyou were quite a little thing. It was just before your dear mother died.You used to be terribly fond of chocolates, I remember."
The lady rambled on in a pleasing way that Beatrice found to besoothing. Gradually and by slow degrees she began to draw out the girl'sconfidence. Beatrice was a little surprised to find that she was tellingthe Countess everything.
"You are quite right, my dear," she said quietly. "The heartfirst--always the heart first. It is the only way to happiness. Yourfather was a dear friend of mine, and I am going to be a friend ofyours. I have no children; I had a daughter who would have been aboutyour age had she lived."
The Countess sighed heavily.
"I would never have allowed a fate
like yours to be hers. I go back homein a few days to my chateau near Paris. It is quiet and dull perhaps,but very soothing to the nerves. It would give me great pleasure for youto accompany me."
Beatrice thanked the kind speaker almost tearfully. It was the firsttouch of womanly sympathy she had received since her troubles had begun,and it went to her heart.
"It is very, very good of you," she said. "A friend is what I sorelyneed at present. When I think of your goodness to a comparative strangerlike me----"
"Then don't think of it," the Countess said almost gaily. "Let us getrid of that horrible man first. You must return those fine diamonds tohim. Oh, I know about the diamonds, because I read an account of themin the papers. Perhaps you have already done so?"
"No," Beatrice said, "they are in my dressing-room at the presentmoment."
"Oh, the careless girl! But that shows how little you value that kind ofthing. Well, General, and what do you want with me at this time of theevening?"
A tall, military man had lounged up to them. He was exquisitelypreserved. He bowed over Beatrice's hand as he was introduced as GeneralGastang.
"Delighted to meet you," he said. "I knew your father slightly.Countess, your maid is wandering in a desolate way about the corridor,looking for you, with some story of a dressmaker."
"_Ma foi_, I had quite forgotten!" the Countess exclaimed. "Do not gofrom here, _cherie_; talk to the General till I return, which will notbe long. Those dressmakers are the plague of one's life. I will be backas soon as possible."
The General's manner was easy and his tongue fluent. Beatrice had onlyto lean her head back and smile faintly from time to time. The Generalsuddenly paused--so suddenly that Beatrice looked up and noticed thesudden pallor of his face, his air of agitation.
"You are not well?" the girl asked. "The heat of the room has been toomuch for you."
The General gasped something; with his head down he seemed to beavoiding the gaze of a man who had just come into the drawing-room. Asthe newcomer turned to speak to a lady, the General shot away fromBeatrice's side, muttering something about a telegram. He had hardlyvanished before Beatrice was conscious of a cold thrill.
After all she knew nothing of these people. Such scraps of her historyas they had gleaned might have come from anybody. Then Beatrice hadanother thrill as she recollected the fact that she had told thisstrange Countess that the diamonds were in her dressing-room. Supposethose two were in league to----
Beatrice waited to speculate on this point no longer. She hurried fromthe room and up the stairs to her bedroom. The corridors werepractically deserted at this time in the evening. Beatrice gave a sighof relief to see that her door was shut. She placed her hand gently onthe handle, but the door did not give.
It was locked on the inside! From within came whispering voices. Inamaze, the girl recognized the fact that one of the voices belonged toCountess de la Moray, and the other to the man who called himself herhusband, Stephen Richford.
There was nothing for it now but to stay and wait developments.
The Slave of Silence Page 9
