The Heiresses (18 page)

Hopefully, Thalia would not force them to stay out too late. Clio had tried every excuse already in the hope of being allowed to stay in this evening to no avail. Thalia would hear nothing of it. The thing was, every moment that she spent with her sisters was torture, having to remember what she knew and what they didn’t know. She ached to tell them what Hestia had told her the other day, and to show them the memorial portrait, but the fear of Thalia using the information against her held her back. She
must
have that money for her mother. And soon. She wasn’t sure how this would be possible, but she was hoping that clever Ro would work out a way to make it so, finding out something or other that would convince Charles the money should be theirs. Thankfully, the breathing exercises the Oxford doctor had instructed her mother to do, as well as the medicine that had been ordered for her, seemed to be making some difference. For now, Clio had a little more time.

“Clio! I said, do you have that lipstick on?”

“Yes, yes!” With a huff, Clio picked up her skirt with one hand and made her way from the room. “I’m here!” She stomped down the stairs. As she did, she saw that both Ro and Thalia were waiting in the hall. Ro was dressed in an equally modest burgundy bell-sleeved, full skirted dress, with a cone-shaped headdress and short veil. Thalia was wearing something entirely different—a low-cut dress of satin scarlet with a tightly pulled, laced black bodice. On her head, a headband held back a short veil.

“Oh, Clio, you do look lovely!” Ro said, appreciatively, as Clio descended the stairs. “Almost like you’re about to be married! And the lipstick really does suit you. It doesn’t look like lipstick at all—you look as if you’ve been eating blackberries all afternoon! It’s very fetching!”

Clio shrugged slightly. She had only been trying to apply the lipstick as lightly as possible and, in doing so, had rubbed it in, then tried the same procedure on her cheeks, rather than wear the garish rouge that Thalia had supplied her with.

Thalia did not look entirely pleased that the white dress was quite so becoming, or the makeup. “Do come on, the motor’s waiting! You can admire each other all you like once we set off.”

*   *   *

“Goodness!” Ro said, patting the leather seat beneath her. “How luxurious! Is Haggis McTavish not coming? And don’t tell me that’s…” She eyed the small wicker basket on the floor of the vehicle.

“Yes,” Thalia replied, as the driver snapped shut the door of the Crossley, now that the three girls had all squeezed into the backseat. “It is. And, no, he’s not. It’s well past his bedtime.”

“What is it?” Clio asked, trying to make out its form in the half dark. “In the basket, I mean.”

“It’s a picnic hamper!” Thalia told her. “From Fortnum and Mason. I thought we could picnic as we drive. After all, we wouldn’t want to become hungry.”

Ro peeked inside the lid of the hamper. “Or thirsty,” she said, her eyes widening. “I think there’s more champagne in here than food.”

“Which is just as it should be, for a party, don’t you think?” Thalia added, as the car pulled away sharply from the curb. At this point, Ro went to open her mouth again, but Thalia cut in before she could speak. “Please, no more tiresome talk about money and its origins. It’s all becoming rather dull. I do believe there should be some caviar and some little sandwiches and shortbread and all kinds of treats in there. But first, let’s open a bottle of champagne. Should we let Clio do us the honor?” Thalia gave Ro a look.

“But I’ve never—” Clio started.

“All the more reason to learn how,” Thalia cut her off. “This will be a night of firsts for you, Clio, I’m going to make sure of it.”

It didn’t take long before Clio found herself grimacing as she held the top of the bottle of champagne away from her face. “Now just ease it out with your thumb,” Thalia instructed, glasses at the ready. “It’s quite simple when you know how.”

“But I don’t—”

There was a resounding
pop!
and Clio opened her previously closed eyes to see Ro with the cork in her hand, which she had instinctively caught.

“Topping catch!” Thalia nodded, expertly holding one glass under the now foaming bottle. Within no time, she had Clio fill each of the three glasses to the brim.

“But—” Clio started again.

“Do stop
fussing
, Clio.” Thalia shook her head. “You will drink at least one glass of champagne and you will eat at least one of everything in this hamper and you will enjoy the party.” And, with this, Thalia passed Clio a glass and took a long sip from her own. “Perfectly divine,” she said.

*   *   *

“Are you all right, Clio?” Ro asked as Thalia poured them a third glass of champagne each. Or was it a fourth? Things had grown a bit … fuzzy.

Clio started. “Oh, yes, I was just thinking…”

“About?” Thalia eyed her sister.

Clio flushed. “Oh, I don’t know. Everything, I suppose. About secrets. And lies…” She glanced away with this. “About the past. About how things used to be, compared to how they are now.”

With Clio’s mention of the past, the threesome began to talk about their former lives. Ro admitted she was not entirely missing boarding school, having been there for what felt like forever, but she was missing her friends, especially Harriet. She had written to her last night, but it wasn’t the same as their midnight chats.

“Perhaps you can visit Harriet when school is finished,” Clio told Ro.

Ro nodded. “I’m sure I will. I’d love to take you with me. She has the most brilliant family. They live on a large estate and she has all these older brothers … it’s so much fun.”

“Lots of older brothers? It does sound brilliant,” Thalia drawled, taking a sip of champagne.

“I just hope she doesn’t forget about me,” Ro said.

“Of course she won’t!” Clio replied.

There was a moment’s silence, which Thalia rushed in to fill. “How about you, Clio?” she asked, rather uncharacteristically, Ro thought. “Are you glad you returned to London?”

It took Clio a moment or two to answer. “Things are certainly … different here. I’m not sure what I think right now.”

“Are you missing your friends there?” Ro asked.

“There aren’t a lot of young people in the village,” Clio admitted. “They tend to move away. Either for work, or upon marriage.”

“And beaus?” Thalia inquired.

Clio laughed at this. “Hardly! I’ve never had one of those! Well, that’s not quite true. There was one, once. For a few minutes. Nicholas, his name was.”

“Do tell!” Thalia sat up in her seat, suddenly interested in where the conversation was headed.

“Oh,” Clio said, and caught up in remembering the past, a drop of champagne spilled from her glass. “There isn’t much
to
tell. I’m afraid you’ll only be bored.”

“Too late now,” Thalia told her. “Get on with it. As chaste as the whole affair might have been, it’s more action than Ro and I saw at home, I’m sure of it.”

Ro nodded. “I’ll say.”

“All right, then.” Clio laughed again, sitting forward slightly on her seat. “He was the son of the vicar from the neighboring village. He was studying history at the university, so he lived away from home, but when he was back on holidays, my father and his father conspired to have him take me for a walk. I was actually quite excited, because I’d seen a photograph of him and he was rather good-looking.” Clio paused here, as if remembering.

“And?” Ro urged her onward.

“Don’t stop now!” Thalia encouraged, taking a long drag on the cigarette she had just lit. “What happened on the walk? Did he try to ravish you?”

Clio burst out laughing now at the very mention of this. “Goodness, no. In fact, the first time we met I thought he was the most boring person who ever lived. All he spoke about was his university. He droned on and on about how Cambridge really was far superior to Oxford.”

Thalia snorted here. “What rot! Everybody knows Oxford is superior to Cambridge. You go to Eton and then Oxford and that’s all there is to it.”

“I think that was the problem,” Clio replied. “He had rather a chip on his shoulder because he hadn’t done exactly that. Anyway, we walked, he talked, and when he took me home, he had the audacity to say he’d had a marvelous time. I was furious when my father told me I should give the man a second chance and see him again! But the funny thing is, he was right. The second time Nicholas called for me, well, things went rather differently. We spoke about other things and…” Clio blushed now. “He might have kissed me.” She scrutinized her sister’s expressions. “See? I knew you wouldn’t think much of it.”

Thalia sighed. “It’s a shame when good looks are wasted. I would have loved a story with a ravishing in it.”

Clio’s expression turned wistful. “I haven’t seen him since then. He moved to Kenya a while ago, to farm coffee, I believe. I would have liked that. Not to mention, it would have been so good for my mother’s health. He did write to me a few months ago…,” she continued. “But I didn’t really know what to say to him. Perhaps I should write back now?”

Ro spluttered into her glass. “What? You’d consider marrying him because of one kiss and where he lives?”

Clio shrugged slightly. “I’m sure others have done so before me. Is it really so shocking? I have to marry someone, don’t I? And my mother’s lungs won’t get any better by themselves. I could do worse than Nicholas, I assure you!”

“You make him sound so awfully appealing,” Ro replied.

Clio frowned as she stared into her champagne glass. “Nicholas isn’t awful.”

Thalia shuddered. “And he’s not that exciting, either. I can’t believe you’d want to go to Kenya. All that dust. And those huge animals with gigantic teeth. Horrible, really.”

“I think it would be lovely,” Clio said. “I really do. I wish I could move my mother there.”

“Edwin went to Oxford, you know.” Thalia changed the subject badly.

“Edwin?” Clio frowned once more, returning from her African daydream to the rattle of the car as it jolted along the country roads.

“Edwin the truncheon thief?” Ro asked. “Well, it’s good to know that Oxford is producing quality men these days.”

Thalia reached across and flicked Ro playfully on the arm. “I’ll have you know he’s stolen far more interesting things than that,” Thalia told her. “He has a policeman’s helmet in his collection as well.”

“A gentleman does need an occupation, you know,” Ro told Clio, with a grin. After a moment she turned back to Thalia. “You do sound quite smitten with this Edwin fellow.”

Thalia stubbed out her cigarette. “He is rather fabulous. And in all the papers, you know. All the girls think he’s amazing, though I’m not sure anyone will win him. He’s probably untameable. Some things shouldn’t be tamed, though, should they? Still, he’ll be at the party tonight and one never knows one’s luck.”

*   *   *

By the time they reached the grounds of the castle (really more like a tall stone tower, Clio thought), an hour and a half had passed and Clio found herself rather drunk, tripping slightly as she exited the car. To be truthful, she was glad of her inebriated state, which she found helped her to forget her terrible deceit. She was sure she could not hide her findings from her sisters for much longer, being awfully unaccustomed to lying. If only she could trust Thalia.…

“It’s a difficult last step, miss,” the driver said as he grabbed her elbow, righting her.

“Oh, dear. Thank you,” Clio said, as Ro exited after her.

“If I might have a word, madam,” the driver finally said to Thalia, the last to leave the motor, yet another bottle of champagne in hand. Clio and Ro watched as he took her aside for a moment, gesturing to another motorcar, which had just pulled into the grassy area where a number of automobiles were parked. The pair watched as Thalia squinted at the car, as if trying to see who was inside it. Then, after a quick nod to the driver, she walked back over to them.

“What was that about?” Ro asked, checking her lipstick in the compact Thalia had given her.

“It seems somebody was following us for most of the journey. I don’t recognize him. It was probably someone who realized where we were going and tagged along behind. Now, let’s go.” Catching Clio’s hand, she began to pull her along the grass toward what seemed to be a winding gravel path. By the light of the almost full moon, the three girls made their way toward the tower, from which Clio could already hear music emanating. Small, rectangular slitted windows shone with flickering candlelight over its four floors.

In an alcohol-induced haze, Clio tripped along behind Thalia and Ro and was finally, unceremoniously, pushed up a flight of perilously steep stone stairs that led into the entrance of the tower itself. As they made their way to the top, Thalia lectured them. “And for heaven’s sake, if you see anybody inside who seems familiar, don’t make a big to-do about it. There will probably be all sorts in there—from actors to politicians—and they won’t care for you making a fuss about their presence.”

At the top of the steps, Clio paused for a moment, her hand against the thick wooden and iron-studded door. It was held back with what seemed to be a stuffed deer’s head. “How odd!” she said, to nobody in particular, as she took back her hand and passed through the doorway. Just as she was about to negotiate the next few stairs that would see them enter the party itself, a sudden squeal took her by surprise.

“Darling!” A flash of turquoise flew past Clio and descended upon Thalia, behind her. Clio turned to see a dark-haired girl—the one from the Savoy—kiss Thalia upon both cheeks. “
Beyond
lovely to see you!” She held her cigarette out at a rakish angle. Although the girl exuded a devil-may-care attitude, Clio noticed that the turquoise was a perfect color choice for her—it set off her deep blue eyes perfectly. “I take it these are your sisters. I have to say, triplets, how fabulously fabulous!”

“Not for our mother,” Ro replied, eyeing Venetia with suspicion.

“Oh, do shut up, Ro,” Thalia hissed.

“But it’s so very true, darling!” Venetia laughed. “Don’t you see? How droll! You must be Erato.” Venetia took Ro’s hand. “What a brilliant name. I do so wish it was mine. Venetia is absolutely common by comparison. And Clio.” She turned to Clio now. “What a perfectly perfect name for you.”