An Affair of the Heart (20 page)

Claymore felt a profound relief when his servant came and summoned him to deal with a person at the door, who sought his contribution for a charity.

Wanda was becoming bored with no one to pester, and began fiddling with the drawer of the desk before her. She slid it out a little and peeped inside. She was rewarded with no more than a general clutter of papers. She pulled one out at random. “Your Marquis has paid three guineas for a curled beaver hat,” she said to Ellie. “That is a very expensive chapeau, is it not, Rex?”

“Don’t snoop, Wanda,” Mrs. Wanderley said, reaching out her hand for the bill. “I wonder if he has paid it. It is not receipted. Perhaps you had better give it to him, Ellie.”

“Mama!” Ellie said in disbelief. “Pray put it back. How horrid and nosey we should look if he saw us prying into his private papers. Close the drawer, Wanda. Close it at once.”

“You’re not the mistress here yet,” Wanda retaliated, and pulled the drawer out further. Her eye fell at once on the lock of golden hair, nicely tied up with a silver ribbon, and she snatched it up. “Only look what I have found!” she chirped.

Lady Tameson arose and took it from her. “This looks mighty familiar,” she said to the company at large.

“Yes, it might be anyone’s,” Joan replied. “Clay’s sister has hair just that color.” She glanced at Ellie as she spoke, and knew her ruse had not succeeded. Ellie was looking at the hair as though it were poison.

“Alice’s hair is
mouse-colored,”
Caroline said.

“It is Gloria Golden’s!” Wanda announced triumphantly, shuffling through the jumble of treasures. She extracted the oval miniature, which was quickly snatched from her fingers, like the lock of hair, by Lady Tameson. “I am surprised she would part with a lock of it, even for Clay.”

“Deuce take it, Wanda,” Rex said in anger, “if you ain’t a gudgeon. There is nothing in that. Every gentleman has a batch of such things. St. Ives keeps his locks of hair on a special board, all labeled.”

“But
most
gentlemen dispose of them when they are on the eve of their nuptials, do they not?”

“You may be sure he plans to.”

“He seems to have gotten rid of the others. He only kept Gloria’s,” Wanda said, sticking her hands back to the back of the drawer in an effort to find more hair.

An ominous silence fell, and into it came the sounds of footsteps approaching the door. The relics were hastily passed to Wanda, who stuffed them back into the drawer, just as Lord Claymore entered the room. To fill the resounding silence, Rex asked, “Who was that to see you?” and Clay explained the nature of the visit.

Joan thought it no great thing that he should have a few keepsakes he had not thought to dispose of. He had scarcely been in his townhouse since Gloria’s marriage, and no doubt intended to discard all such things before bringing Ellie home. The only pity was that that fiend of a Wanda should have discovered them and made a to-do of them.

The visit broke up shortly after his return, and with such a surfeit of carriages at their disposal—for Joan and Caroline had each brought her own—it was not necessary for Claymore to accompany Ellie to the Siderows’. She went with Joan and her mother, while Wanda accompanied Lady Tameson. Joan gave her view of Wanda’s discovery, making little of it, and even going so far as to invent an amusing story, similar in nature, involving herself and Siderow. Ellie was inclined to agree with her sister, though she was naturally sorry to have been so mortified before her family.

“You are very wise to make little of it, my love,” her mother said. “We never thought he was a saint, and so long as the connection is broken now, there is nothing to become excited about. Both Joanie and I agree that he seems to be becoming quite
fond
of you. And in any case, everyone says Everleigh is a very jealous husband.
Claymore will not be able to get near the Rose.”

“There is no reason to think he will
try,
Mama,” Joan said, stressing the more important aspect of the case. She then entered immediately into a discussion of wedding arrangements, professing great concern for Ellie’s bouquet, which had not yet been decided upon.

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?”