by Joan Smith
As soon as the Wanderley crew had departed, Rex felt it his duty to inform Clay what had transpired during his absence, and did so, in his usual roundabout fashion. “You’ll have to watch that Wanda,” he said, thinking to soften the blow.
“Yes, particularly when she has so willing an accomplice as yourself. What the devil got into you to go bringing up that business about Gloria’s engagement?”
“Nothing in that,” Rex defended. “Everyone knows she got engaged. Had to learn of it sometime and somewhere. No place more likely than this room right here, which anyone could see you live in.”
“The only difficulty being that I let on at Wanderleys that I didn’t know of it when I went there. However, we brushed through it fairly well, I think. Ellie wasn’t paying much note, do you think?”
“Not then,” Rex allowed leadingly.
“No doubt her sister will unfold the tale when they are home.”
“That, too.”
Rex was wearing his wise face, a sure sign that he had news to impart. “Out with it. What’s happened?”
“Thing is, Clay, that Wanda, no trusting her.”
“So you said. What has she done?”
“Been routing around in that drawer,” Rex replied, lifting a stubby leg encased in biscuit-colored trousers, and indicating the drawer with the toe of his hessian.
Clay turned a shade paler. “You didn’t let her get into that drawer!” he shouted.
“No stopping her. I tried. Ellie tried. Think her mother said something, too, or ought to have. Wonder Lady Siderow didn’t give her a heavy setdown. Anyway, she was into that drawer.”
Clay strode to the drawer and pulled it out an inch, hesitantly, to see what this malevolent Pandora’s box had unleashed on him. The first object that hit his eye was the lock of golden hair, of which a piece of silver ribbon actually protruded still from its hasty return. He swiftly shoved the drawer shut, closing his eyes as though to block out the sight. “The hair,” he said in a flat voice. “Did she see it?”
Rex nodded, then, noticing his friend’s closed eyes, said, “Yup.”
Clay opened his eyes, pulled the drawer out a little and said, “And the miniature?” Rex nodded in the affirmative.
“I’m sunk,” Clay said, and slammed the drawer closed so hard that the whole desk rattled. For a moment he stood silent, his chin cupped in his hand. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that she didn’t show these curst things to Ellie?”
“Afraid so.”
“She did show them?”
“She did, yes.”
“Well, I wonder I didn’t get my eyes scratched out when I came walking innocently into this room.”
“Ellie ain’t the kind to cut up stiff. Didn’t say a word when Wanda pulled ‘em out. Just sat there, looking sort of paralyzed, if you know what I mean.”
Strangely, this bracing statement did nothing to reassure the worried Marquis. “Is that the whole of it, or did that viper of a Wanda get into the letters too?” he asked, in the voice of one inquiring whether his death was to be by gun or sword.
“Didn’t get around to the letters. You came back too soon. Just a bill for a hat. Three guineas. Took exception to that.”
“Damn that woman!”
“What’s in the letters then?” Rex asked, and tugged the drawer open to see for himself. A moment’s rifling was rewarded by discovering one of Gloria’s notes, and he opened it to peruse it. His eyebrows raised, he pursed his lips and whistled. “That Gloria Golden’s a dashed loose girl,” he said.
Clay snatched the letter from him, read it, and blushed. “This isn’t what it sounds like,” he said angrily.
“By Jove, should hope not! ‘My heart flutters when I am in yr arms,’ he quoted. Tell you what, Clay, you want to burn this lot. Ought to have done it before. If Everleigh ever gets his hands on this mush, he’ll call you out.”
“I know, I know. But that was written after our first waltz at Almack’s. That’s the only time she was in my arms. Except for... well, never mind that.”
Rex fumbled through the drawer till he found another of the infamous missives. “What’s this, then? ‘You are hansomer than anyone.’ That girl can’t spell, Clay. Can’t spell worth a peg. And she don’t put a period where she ought either. ‘I will be in the Park this afternoon I hope you can come, if not I will see you at Almack’s tomorrow and you better be there!’ Bold, too. Bold as brass.”
He read on and his blue eyes popped. “Well, if this don’t beat the Dutch,” he said. “Listen to this bit. ‘You are so hansome’—spelt wrong again—’I tingle at your touch.’ Where the devil did you touch her, Clay? You’ve got to get rid of this. We’ll burn ‘em before they fall into Everleigh’s hands.” He walked to the grate as he spoke, still reading and clucking.
“Let’s get them together,” Clay said. He pulled the drawer open and yanked out all the papers. Then he and his friend began sorting out letters from bills, invitations, and other useless pieces of paper that had found their way into the drawer.
“What’s this?” Rex asked, lifting out a lock of Titian hair. “This ain’t the Rose’s hair. Now how did Wanda come to miss this? Whose is it? Don’t recognize the tint at all.”
Clay regarded it dispassionately. “I think her name was Morin,” he said. “Or possibly Morgan.”
“Morton,” Rex corrected. “Recognize it now. Jane Morton. You’ll find one of these pieces in most gentlemen’s possession, I fancy. I wonder that girl has a curl left on her head. And she’s plain, too. Don’t know why you all went getting a hank of her hair.”
“Well, she and Sara Grant were the only redheads, and Sara wouldn’t part with a single hair. I needed it to complete my collection.”
“She must have needed it to complete her coiffure; must be two feet of the stuff here.” He flung it into the wastebasket, to be consumed with the rest of the evidence.
* * * *
During the afternoon Mrs. Homberly and Missie arrived in town, having been invited for the wedding, and coming early to spruce up their country gowns with city feathers and bonnets. They were staying in Rex’s apartment, since he was at Claymore House (with no apparent intention of ever leaving, as the mother of the bride occasionally mentioned).
They called at the Siderows’, and in order to have a good private cose with Missie, Ellie borrowed her sister’s carriage for a drive in the park. They exchanged confidences, with Missie having great affairs to relate, for she had attracted the attention of a gentleman of the first stare in the Pump Room in Bath, and had to describe in detail how ingeniously the gentleman had made their acquaintance by discovering she was Rex’s sister, and he had been to Oxford with Rex. This, her first affair of the heart, loomed larger in her mind than her friend’s marriage to a marquis, and made up the major part of the conversation.
Ellie was content to let her ramble on and fed her just enough questions that she didn’t have to do much talking herself. With such interesting new developments in their lives, neither of them even mentioned their previous plan of taking to the boards at Drury Lane.
Chapter Thirteen
Forewarned that his bride-elect had been witness to the objects in his drawer, Claymore knew he must bring up the subject on their next meeting and try to explain them away. The opportunity occurred that same evening. Claymore, the Wanderley family, and the Homberlys were invited to dine at Lady Tameson’s. Even if Lady Siderow had not seen fit to invite her to dine with the Marquis, she was not so mean-spirited, she said half a dozen times, as to refuse to include Joan in her invitation. Joan need not think she was to have the running of the Marchioness’ social life, as she clearly did, and besides there were the Chinese Chippendale stand and the harp to consider.
The evening passed pleasantly. Caroline did not frequently bestir herself to entertain her family, but she was by no means backward in the social graces, and knew how to put on a show to impress a marquis as well as anyone. She limited herself to two courses and two removes
, but served such a quantity of side dishes that the most gluttonly of her guests, her husband, had no cause to complain. Her orange and lemon soufflé was a particular success, and she looked forward with pleasure to having it at the Siderows’, for she had told Joan the recipe, cutting the sugar in half.
It was not till Claymore and Elinor were alone in his carriage on their way back to the Siderows’ that he raised the subject that had been bothering them both all evening. He took the precaution of getting his arm around her before he began. He remarked that she had been in the sullens during the dinner, and lay it at the door of Wanda’s having exposed him.
“I know you are angry with me,” he began apologetically. She had on her paralyzed look, and he found it difficult to explain the matter as glibly as he would have liked. “And I know why. It was those stupid things Wanda found in my desk.”
“Oh, Rex told you,” Ellie exclaimed, nearly as mortified as he was himself, to see a member of her family so disgraced.
“Yes, he told me, and now I am going to tell you how it came about. You know I fancied myself in love with Miss Golden last Season.”
“Everyone knows it.”
“Yes. Well, we exchanged a few notes and things, but I have gotten rid of them. I’m sorry as may be that this happened, but let’s not have it ruin our relationship.”
“Do you truly no longer care for her?” she asked.
“Ellie, I never did! Not as I care for you. It was just—oh, an infatuation. She was the belle of the Season, and everyone was dangling after her. I wanted to prove, I suppose, that I could outdo them all. I never felt for her as I do for you.”
He felt sure this ardent speech must make all right between them, and wondered at her reluctance to throw herself on his chest in tears and recriminations for her mistrust. But she was shy, of course.
“And you don’t see Miss Golden—the Duchess, I ought to say—anymore?”
“No, there is the best of good reasons not to. Everleigh is so jealous it would be more than my life is worth to try to see her. I have not the least desire to do so in any case—ever again.”
“But she is so beautiful, Clay. I don’t know how you can not love her.”
He grabbed her to him convulsively and tried to shower kisses on her face. She turned her head aside to hide the tears on her cheeks, and he could only reach her ear. “She is not half so beautiful as you,” he said into the ear, and resigned himself to doing no more than holding her in his arms. Till they were married, he must control his impulses.
At her door he said, “I love you very much, Ellie. Don’t let this business come between us.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek, and she ran up the stairs to her room to be alone in peace.
How could she doubt his words? His voice shook with emotion when he told her he loved her. Anyone might have fallen in love with Gloria’s beautiful face, and if Clay found herself twice as beautiful, he must love her very much indeed. One thing she was sure of: she loved him, as she would never love anyone else. Gloria was married, her husband fiendishly jealous. Whatever had been between Clay and the Rose would die a natural death when they were both married to jealous demons, for she acknowledged to herself that she was every bit as jealous as the Duke of Everleigh. She would have Clay, and if Gloria ever tried to get him away, she would scratch her beautiful blue eyes out of her head, and tell the Duke, too. On this outrageous thought she slept.
* * * *
The week between Claymore’s arrival in town and the marriage was to have been a period for them to become better acquainted. It turned into a gay social round with no time for anything but parties and fittings and shopping. They were frequently together, but they were seldom alone together. Mr. Wanderley and Abel came to town; various of Claymore’s relatives paid calls on the bride and held parties for the couple. When they hoped to slip away by themselves for half an hour, Rex and Missie would suddenly decide that they, too, would love a turn in the park. George Hibbard had come for the wedding, and he and Wanda were frequent and unwelcome companions.
When Ellie read in the Morning Observer that the Everleighs had left for Brighton, she shoved Rose to the back of her mind. She heard on all sides what a fortunate creature she was, making such a fine match, and her fiancé so devoted to her. Even Wanda let up on her haranguing, determined to make herself beloved to the couple who had such a handsome London residence, with plenty of room for George and herself. With George at last present to compare favorably with the Marquis, she had no more to say than it was odd Ellie didn’t receive her engagement ring. Claymore did not find it possible, after a prolonged discussion with his man of business, to divert a thousand pounds to this purchase. Ellie appeared to have forgotten it, for she didn’t mention it to him again. There were presents to open, plans to make for a honeymoon, arrangements for a dresser for Ellie, for she presently shared one with Wanda, and a battle was pitched over this important point.
Miss Pritchard had “done” for both girls since they had begun putting their hair up, and they both laid claim to her continued services. Ellie carried the day by telling her mama Wanda was to remain practically at home among all their old friends, while she was to be launched among strangers, and must have one old friend with her.
“Yes indeed, and besides you are the elder,” her mother replied. Had she been the younger by ten minutes, that would have been the excuse. The reason was certainly not mentioned: that a daughter with the great fortune to nab a marquis might have whatever she wanted.
Miss Pritchard smiled happily, relieved that she must not state publicly that she wouldn’t do for Miss Wanda if she had to starve in a gutter first.
Miss Wanda’s beautiful nose was further disjointed by the discovery that a young lady making a grand match required a more valuable gift than one marrying a mere squire’s son. Silver wrought into every conceivable shape and form was hauled in for Ellie, and rather than expressing surprise that the relatives were so generous, it was stated that “you can’t go giving just anything to a marquis.”
She was similarly told that Ellie, who would soon be coming into a settlement of twenty-five thousand pounds, must be outfitted in the first style before this time, for after all, she was marrying a marquis.
“Next you will tell me she must have a bigger dowry than I, because she is marrying a marquis,” Wanda raged, and regretted her words when she saw the light of interest go on in her mother’s eyes. Mr. Wanderley scotched this idea, however, having already ordered a hundred tobacco plants, which required the enlargement of his greenhouse. Even Caroline, with an eye to her Chinese Chippendale stand and her harp, turned traitor and supported Ellie’s cause. In fact, it was only the recipient of all this largesse who stated in an unheeded voice that many of the wonders bestowed on her were neither necessary nor wanted, and that if she got six bonnets, Wanda ought to as well.
“You are forgetting we had all the expense of outfitting Wanda for her come-out this spring,” her mother said. “And she has still half a dozen gowns she hasn’t even worn. Who will see her, stuck out in the country anyway?”
“I don’t intend to remain stuck in the country!” Wanda fired back.
“You will if you don’t mind your manners,” her mother reminded her elliptically, and Wanda smiled grimly at her sister, who had snatched the Marquis right out from under her own nose, in the slyest manner imaginable.
The day for the wedding finally arrived. The gowns were prepared, the flowers on hand, their price and quality strongly derided by Adam, the church suitably trimmed with white lilies and white bows on the seats, the wedding feast prepared at Siderow House, the carriages washed and polished. Claymore House stood in readiness for the nuptial night, with Homberly finally (to the bride’s mother’s relief) dispatched to Fenton Hotel, and far away in Somerset Claymore Hall was being turned out to receive its new mistress. This was to be the destination of their honeymoon. Everything but the engagement ring was taken care of. The wedding ring was purchased on credit, a circle of diam
ond chips set in a golden band. The party wended its way to St. George’s in Hanover Square, and the ceremony was performed with all due pomp and circumstance, crammed in between the weddings of Sir Geoffrey Haskin, Bart., and Captain Lawrence McMaster, for it was a very busy edifice at this time of the year.
It was agreed that the bride looked stunning, and the groom excessively handsome, and St. George’s had not seen so ideal a couple before, not since Sir Geoffrey and Miss Milne had entered its door an hour previously, and would never see such a sight again till the entry of Captain Lawrence McMaster and Miss Lanctot an hour later.
When the fateful words of the occasion were being enunciated in a low tone by the bride, Wanda reached out her hand and took ahold of George’s fingers. They exchanged a meaningful smile, and Wanda even squeezed out a tear. She hoped they would be very happy, and thought it a gross mistake for Ellie to have chosen the Spanish lace mantilla for a veil, for it stood up so very high, and made her look like a giant at a raree show. She would wear Mama’s, or perhaps the lovely one Caroline had worn. That would be her something old, and Caroline need not think she could palm it off as her wedding gift either, for she had given Ellie two sterling silver goblets, duplicates of which would look very handsome on the Hibbards’ fireplace shelf.
Joan worried whether she had reminded the housekeeper to clean the extra batch of silver that would be required, and was almost certain she had forgotten. She admired Ellie’s Spanish lace mantilla, such an original idea, though it made her look nearly as tall as Clay. Caroline, glancing across the aisle to the groom’s side of the church, wondered whether Lady Jane Blackmore wasn’t pregnant again, for her gown was hanging at a peculiar angle. Surely the baby wasn’t above four months, and she was already showing! If her own bambino proved to be a male, she would try not to have another for years and years. Lord, she hoped she wasn’t going to be sick! She overcame her nausea by the delightful notion of asking Ellie whether she would mind leaving the harp with her while she and Clay were in the country, for it would pass the time during the next few months when she couldn’t get about much. This settled, she set her inventive brain searching after an excuse to get the Chinese stand, temporarily.
