“Derrick,” I whispered, “that’s the elderly man who confronted us the last time we were here. Do you remember? He said Lilah came here making trouble, and that we’d be wise to leave her be.”
“I remember,” Derrick replied low, barely moving his lips. He glanced at Mr. Bennett. “What’s the main entertainment for tonight?”
“There’s a cotillion at the theater as soon as the dinner hour is over.” He tipped his head back in a gesture indicating the mysterious family. “I can practically guarantee they’ll attend.”
“I agree,” I said, scanning the flouncy ball gown the daughter wore. I guessed her age to be about seventeen. Almost an adult, but not quite. She still bore that wide-eyed naïveté of a girl who had yet to experience her first season. She fidgeted with her napkin, the edge of the tablecloth, the frills on her little puffed sleeves. Had her family formally brought her out? I didn’t think so. “Something about them—I can’t quite explain it—speaks of a fairly recent entrée into polite society.”
“New money, undoubtedly,” Mr. Bennett said with a sniff of disdain.
Derrick pinned him with a glare. “Why don’t you run along now, Bennett? Miss Cross and I can handle things from here.”
Again that squaring of the jaw, the sucking in of his cheeks. “I don’t like being dismissed in my own club, Andrews.”
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t overstay your welcome.”
At Derrick’s retort, Mr. Bennett turned his anger on me. “Perhaps you should be more careful about whom you choose to spend your time with, Miss Cross. Especially if you are still counting on a certain bit of good news.”
He stormed off across the veranda and disappeared into the inner dining room. Derrick immediately turned to me. “What did he mean by that? What certain bit of good news?”
A wave of heat had enveloped my face at Mr. Bennett’s words, and now I pulled back in my seat, hoping to avoid the light of the candle in the middle of our table. “I don’t know,” I said quickly. “It must have something to do with Lilah, though I cannot imagine what.”
I was lying, and not liking myself one bit for it. But I hadn’t yet told Derrick of my bid for employment at the New York Herald. I hadn’t told anyone. And with the way Derrick obviously felt about Mr. Bennett, I would do myself no favors revealing my would-be plan to him before I knew whether or not I’d be offered a position.
We ordered a light supper of consommé and lobster croquettes. As we ate, we made certain to keep pace with the family that had so interested Lilah. We also kept our voices and our heads low to avoid attracting their notice.
Their voices reached us upon occasion, during rare lulls in the surrounding conversations. The daughter’s name was Nanette, the son’s Gerald. They addressed the younger of the adults as Mother and Father, the elderly man as Grandfather. They all seemed to dote on Nanette, even the brother. I noted a marked difference in the siblings’ coloring, with her being fair, her cheekbones high, and her chin pointed, while he had dark hair and eyes and heavier facial features. In truth they didn’t look at all alike, but then neither did many siblings. Brady and I hardly favored each other in looks, though if one observed closely enough, the similarity in the shape of our eyes and the curve of our chins became evident.
My fork was halfway to my mouth when Derrick tossed down his napkin. The family had evidently finished their dinner, for they were coming to their feet. The brother held his sister’s chair as she rose, chattering in excitement. “My first cotillion,” she said with unconcealed delight. Her brother offered her his arm. Derrick and I watched them until they stepped out into the courtyard. Then we, too, vacated our seats.
Chapter 13
The assembly was being held in the Casino’s theater, where the seats had been removed to create a spacious dance floor. Above, the wraparound balcony with its glorious arches became a gallery where those who chose not to dance could gaze down upon the proceedings. A chamber orchestra occupied a corner of the stage, rather than being hidden beneath in the pit.
We spotted the family gathered near the seating along the south wall. Nanette practically bounced on her toes in her eagerness, while the brother, Gerald, seemed rather less enamored of the occasion. Their mother observed their surroundings with a sharp eye, keeping close watch on every passerby, especially families with sons in tow.
“There’s no doubt they’re here hoping to be noticed by society,” I murmured to Derrick.
“You mean hoping society notices their daughter,” he replied. He glanced about the room. “I don’t see the old man. Dare we hope he’s gone home for the evening?”
“We need to meet them before he returns.” Easier said than done, for Derrick and I could hardly walk up to complete strangers, with whom we had no acquaintances in common, and merely introduce ourselves. At least, not without causing awkwardness, and that was something I wished to avoid. Luck came my way in the form of a waltzing pair not far from where we stood. I nudged Derrick. “Look, there are Grace and Neily.”
He nodded vaguely, apparently not catching my meaning. As we had planned, we moved away from each other. As soon as the music paused I strolled onto the dance floor. “Neily, Grace. How lovely to see you again.”
Grace turned to me with a delighted smile. She looked stunning in gold silk with a jeweled bodice, a design I did not doubt came from House of Worth. “Emma!” she exclaimed. We embraced lightly. Then she gasped with obvious delight and leaned closer to me. “Isn’t that Mr. Andrews I saw you walk in with? Where has he gone?”
I decided not to put up a pretense. This was Neily and Grace, after all. Both were familiar with the intrigue in which I typically found myself, and moreover, they had helped in the past. “I need an introduction to someone, Grace. Do you think you could manage it for me?”
She let out a peal of laughter, as if I’d told the funniest of jokes. “I believe this can be accomplished. Who is the party in question?”
“If you’ll both excuse me.” Neily kissed my hand and his wife’s cheek. “I’ll leave you two to your machinations.” With a rather long-suffering sigh, he moved off the dance floor.
That was twice now I had detected a sentiment of discontent in Neily’s manner. Was he unhappy in his marriage? I dearly, fervently hoped not. But it was certainly not for me to interfere in his and Grace’s life, nor to become distracted from my present purpose. I pointed out the family I wished to meet.
“Hmm, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” Delicate furrows formed above Grace’s nose, and I began to lose hope. “But never mind. I am not Mrs. Vanderbilt for nothing, am I?”
She certainly looked every inch the part of a Vanderbilt wife with her exquisite ball gown and the tiara glittering among the piled curls of her coif. With a mischievous grin, she raised an eyebrow as she set off across the room. She walked straight up to Nanette’s mother and extended a satin-gloved hand that shone with an emerald on the ring finger, a diamond on the forefinger, and a cuff of diamonds and pearls encircling her wrist.
“My goodness, how are you?” Grace’s voice rang with believable surprise. “It is such a pleasure to see you here.”
“Oh, I . . .” A tide of scarlet engulfed the mother’s face. “I’m so sorry, I . . . I’m afraid I’ve forgotten where it was we met. I . . . how are you?”
“I’m delightful, thank you. And, dear me, yes, that last time was such a crush, wasn’t it? I could barely hear myself think, and I’m quite sure you couldn’t hear a word either. I’m Mrs. Vanderbilt, of course.”
“Yes, of course,” the woman replied weakly. I wondered if she had the faintest idea which Mrs. Vanderbilt stood before her. Besides Grace, there were three others with ties to Newport: Alice, Alva, and Louise. Meanwhile, her husband looked on with no small measure of astonishment, while her children appeared dumbfounded. “You remember my husband, Mr. Hartwell. And our children, Gerald and Nanette.”
“I do indeed. Mr. Hartwell, lovely to see you again. I hope you have all been wel
l?”
“Oh, yes, well. Quite, quite well,” Mrs. Hartwell said with a bit of a stammer.
“May I introduce my cousin by marriage, Miss Emmaline Cross.” Grace turned to me and stretched out a slender arm to draw me closer. “Miss Cross, these are the Hartwells I was telling you about.”
I experienced a moment of panic, realizing they might have heard about me as the woman who so brazenly visited a brothel and the Reading Room. True, the Daily News hadn’t mentioned me by name in the article, but people could easily guess and word had surely spread by now. Yet I could detect nothing but interest and eagerness in their expressions. I might have been Lizzy Borden herself and they would not have cared, being introduced to them as I was by a member of the Vanderbilt family. “I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance.” I shook hands with each of them, letting my fingers linger a moment longer than necessary against Gerald’s. I attempted to mimic something of Nanette’s wide-eyed innocence. It wouldn’t hurt for them to believe I was younger than my twenty-three years.
Grace led us in small talk while I continued to subtly show my interest in Gerald. I wanted him to ask me to dance, for I thought what better way to strike up a conversation? I needn’t have worried about my plan working, for Mrs. Hartwell soon discreetly nudged her son and, having gotten his attention, gestured to me with her gaze. It took Gerald looking back and forth several times between his mother and me before he understood her meaning, but at a lull in the conversation he finally held out his hand to me. “Miss Cross, may I have the pleasure of this next dance?”
Soon we were whirling among other couples across the dance floor. Gerald Hartwell made a passing fair partner; he had obviously been well schooled in ballroom skills. He swept me so effortlessly in his arms that I became slightly breathless and made an effort to slow our momentum enough to allow conversation. He must have noticed, and perhaps believed he was overwhelming me, for it didn’t take long for him to adjust his stride to a more leisurely pace.
“From where do you hail, Mr. Hartwell?”
“New York, Miss Cross. Long Island.”
“Indeed? Is your family in business there?”
“We are. Our company provides support structures for the construction industry.”
“Scaffolding?”
“Just so, Miss Cross. It is quite lucrative.”
“One might imagine so, Mr. Hartwell.” I tipped my head back in a show of pleasure as we glided in smooth, triple-meter rhythm around another couple. “Much of Long Island is horse country, I understand. Are you here for the polo, then? Do you support the Meadowview Club?”
“Polo, among the other diversions Newport has to offer. But yes, my father is a Meadowview patron.”
“How extraordinary.” I confess I found nothing particularly extraordinary about his father’s patronage, but it seemed the sort of thing a young debutant would say. “How long do you intend to visit our seaside metropolis?”
“I couldn’t say. And you, Miss Cross? Will you remain for the rest of the Season?”
“I live here.”
“Year round?” He said it as if he found something distasteful about remaining in Newport once the Season ended.
“I’m of Newport born and raised, Mr. Hartwell. But tell me, other than my cousin Mrs. Vanderbilt, with whom else are you acquainted here in town?”
“Very few others, I’m afraid. We’re rather new to . . .” He trailed off, but I detected the beginnings of the word society. Such an admission was just the thing to ensure one’s curt dismissal from society, and he must have known it. As his mother had blushed at Grace’s insistence that they knew each other, Gerald turned ruddy now.
Apparently, Gerald Hartwell was not altogether comfortable with his parents’ social ambitions. I quickly changed the subject. “Have you heard the latest news? It’s quite unsettling.”
“Which news is that, Miss Cross?”
“There is a woman who has gone missing. Vanished into thin air, they say. It’s positively frightening that such a thing can happen here in Newport. Oh, what is her name?” I pretended to consider as Gerald swept me past several other couples. I waited for him to supply an answer, but he did not. “Buford, I believe. Yes, that’s it: Lilah Buford. Have you heard?”
His expression never changed, never registered anything beyond polite interest. “I’m sorry, Miss Cross, but I cannot say I have heard this unfortunate story. I do hope the woman is found soon, and in good health.”
He talked on, but my attention wandered over heads and across the room. Derrick had made his way over to the Hartwell family, and now he stood talking with the three remaining members. He seemed to be paying special attention to Nanette. Gerald turned me, and I craned my neck to keep Derrick and Nanette in my sights. She was smiling in a simpering fashion and looking utterly entranced, while he bent subtly closer to her, ostensibly, of course, to be heard without having to raise his voice or force Miss Hartwell to strain her ears. I knew he was merely doing as we had agreed upon—asking questions, as I was doing with Gerald. Still, a wave of something cold, harsh, and unwelcome swept over me, making me wish to cut this waltz short and reclaim . . . good heavens, what I had no right to claim.
I tore my gaze away from Derrick and forced my attention back to Gerald. Still, with that cold sensation lodged in my breast, I remarked, rather abruptly, that Gerald and his sister did not look much alike.
His smooth stride faltered and then resumed as if nothing had happened. After a hesitation he said, “No, I suppose we don’t. Nanette takes after our mother’s side of the family, while I favor my father’s.”
“I see,” I said, but in truth I could find little evidence of either claim. The siblings didn’t much resemble each other or their parents. Could they be adopted? With a start, I drew my attention back to Gerald. Images from Lilah’s photograph album popped into my mind. Lilah had had a younger brother. Madam Heidi seemed to believe he had died, but how could she be certain? Could the man presently leading me on the dance floor be that same boy? Is that why Lilah took such an interest in this family?
Only one thing felt certain: The family was hiding something. Was it merely the fact of their social climbing ambitions? Or something more?
“You there, step away from her.”
The angry command rang out above the music and the chatter. Gerald brought me to an abrupt halt, his gaze riveted upon his family. My hand held by his rigid one, I also turned to face them. The elderly man had returned and now stood with his cane raised in a threatening manner.
Mr. Hartwell attempted to intercede. “Father, please. Mr. Andrews is merely—”
The old man didn’t listen. He waved his cane and then poked the air with its tip as if to run Derrick through with a lance. “She is too young for the likes of you, sir. Step away from her immediately.”
An awkward silence had fallen over the assembly and the dancing ceased. One by one the musicians stopped playing, until only the reedy notes of an oboe faded into nothing. All attention converged on Derrick and the fiercely blushing Nanette. The poor girl looked as if she wished to melt into the floor.
Derrick barely blinked. Calmly stepping in front of Nanette, he bowed to his adversary. “My apologies, sir. I meant no harm. Good evening.”
Immediately the music started up again, a lively mazurka that encouraged the dancing to resume. Still holding my hand, Gerald started us walking toward his family. Derrick had attempted to take his leave, but the cane swerved outward to block his way.
Before we reached them, Jesse appeared, having strode decisively through the crush. He held out his detective’s badge and thrust it close to the old man’s face. Gerald sped his pace, hauling me along behind him. I trotted to keep up, to keep from being dragged. Anger rolled off him in heated waves. I doubted he even realized he held onto me.
“I’m Detective Whyte of the Newport Police,” Jesse was calmly saying. “Sir, I must ask you to lower your cane and allow this gentleman to pass.”
“He�
��s a troublemaker. He’s been following my son’s family, prying and . . .” He broke off as Gerald and I reached him. Then he pointed a finger at me. “And her along with him. The pair of them, they’ve been at it before.”
Gerald whirled to face me. “Is this true? Are you trying to make some kind of trouble for my family? Is that why you asked me all those questions? And that woman you asked about, Lilah? Has she something to do with this?”
The old man shushed him, his gaze darting to Nanette and back again. Mrs. Hartwell came forward. “Father, dearest, you’re making a dreadful scene,” she said in a stage whisper. “Do leave off, please. I’m sure Miss Cross and Mr. Andrews meant no harm. After all, they were introduced to us by Mrs. Vanderbilt. Surely you’re not going to accuse Mrs. Vanderbilt of some sort of ill-meant mischief. The very idea.”
“I don’t know about Mrs. Vanderbilt,” the old man said, “but these two will bring this family nothing good.”
“Grandfather, whatever are you saying?” Nanette swept to him and wrapped a pale hand around his coat sleeve.
He turned to her suddenly, as if startled—as if he’d forgotten her presence there. The anger faded from his eyes. “Never you mind, my girl. Everything is . . . is all right.”
“I think you’d better go,” Gerald murmured to me, but while his tone may have lacked force, his expression granted no quarter.
Jesse gave me a slight nod. Derrick and I moved away, but we hadn’t gotten far when Mrs. Hartwell called out to us. We turned to discover she’d followed us, and she was flushed and out of breath. “Miss Cross, Mr. Andrews, please accept my apologies.” Her gaze darted back and forth between us, the whites of her eyes wide around the irises. “I don’t know what could have gotten into my father-in-law. Do forgive us.”
“It’s quite all right, Mrs. Hartwell,” I said, and Derrick and I continued on our way. When I felt assured she could not overhear us, I said, “She says one thing, but her eyes tell another story. There is something strange going on with this family, and I believe it has to do with either or both of the siblings.”
Murder at Chateau sur Mer Page 19
