To love and to honor (12 page)

"So sorry about that sweet Mrs. Barclay." The hostess had returned to the subject of her recent caller. "She's

charming. Do tell me a little about her. Just what is her position in this town?"

"Do you mean her family? It's tops. She was bom here, makes her home in New York, I believe. At present she is visiting her brother who is one of the most distinguished lawyers to come out of the State of Maine."

"Her face worries me. I'm sure I have met her before. She-"

"That is because she looked like a fashion model, Sally," Lloyd interrupted. He had a curious habit of pinching the lobe of his left ear as he talked. Had he been afraid of what she might say? "You've seen her in duplicate in your favorite fashion magazines."

"It's more than that. I have a feeling I have run across her somewhere. I've been almost everywhere abroad except the Orient. Has Mrs. Barclay ever lived in Europe, Mrs. Stewart?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Drew. I haven't seen or heard of her for years before this summer." That didn't tell much. Cindy had a quick close-up of Alida Barclay's outstretched hand feeling the wall of this room.

Mrs. Drew recalled her attention with a rapid-fire series of questions about guests at the Inn; summer residents; was there a putting green? she adored putting; on and on. Trifles that meant nothing to her, Cindy answered, desperately making small talk. At the first break in the Information Please quiz, she picked up her long gloves, rose, she hoped gracefully, from the geranium-pink couch.

"The tea was delicious," she declared to her hostess, who had extricated herself from the deep cushions with feline ease and grace. "You said you loved to putt. I'll plan soon for you to try the green at The Castle. Good afternoon, Mr. Lloyd."

"Not yet. I'll speed the parting guest."

Bill Damon, hatless, was standing beside the convertible when they stepped to the porch. He looked up. There was an instant of what seemed to Cindy an electrically charged silence. Were the two men enemies? She hastened to break the spell.

lOO TO LOVE AND TO HONOR

"Mr. Lloyd, Colonel Damon." They bowed formally. "I hope you'll come again and often—Mrs. Stewart," Lloyd said as he came down the one step as if to assist her into the car. Damon stepped between them.

"Do come and putt at The Castle sometime, Mr. Lloyd," she invited from her seat beside the wheel. "Bring Mrs. Drew. Good—" The car shot ahead and left the rest of the word floating in thin air.

"You didn't give me a chance to finish my pretty speech," Cindy reminded. "What was the matter? Didn't you like the blond Viking?" "Like him? Who is he?'*

"He is Mrs. Drew's secretary and lives on the yacht Ella Crane announcing. I suspected by the way you two glared at one another that in a previous incarnation you had been mortal enemies."

"What did you say his name was? I didn't get it." ''Laurence Lloyd. His employer calls him 'Laurie.' " "Never heard the name before, that explodes your previous-incarnation theory."

Cindy looked back at the spreading house. "Rockledge is full of beautiful Oriental pieces. I wonder if they belong to the owner or the present tenant. I would hate to have the responsibility of them if they were not mine."

"Perhaps Mrs. Drew has lived in the Orient?" "During the conversation she volunteered the information that she had been almost everywhere abroad except there."

"What led up to that statement?"

"Alida Barclay was calling when I arrived. After she left Mrs. Drew confided that Mrs. Barclay's face worried her, she was sure she had met her before."

"Was—did you say the name was Lloyd—present when she said that?"

"Yes. He suggested that Mrs. Drew probably had seen her in duplicate in fashion magazines, as she was the perfect model of a smartly dressed woman."

"An orchid for Alida Barclay, I'd say. Too bad she didn't hear it." He glanced at her hand. "What's the ring on your left third finger?"

TO LOVE AND TO HONOR lOl

"What would it be?"

*'I thought you didn't wear a wedding ring."

"I wore it today to back up my name. I felt like a cheat each time Mrs. Drew called me Mrs. Stewart. I was horribly tempted to add, until tomorrow. If I hadn't worn the ring what would she have thought? That was a rhetorical question. You needn't answer." She moved the diamond circlet up and down, then added:

"It is beautiful, but a plain gold band, not too wide, is my idea of a wedding ring. Perhaps because for years I saw one like tliat on Mother's finger."

"You don't like anything that is in any way connected with Kenniston Stewart, do you?"

"Let me think. I like his name."

"You're terribly unfair to him, Cindy. He couldn't come—"

"If I am my feelings about him won't make any difference after today. I know I am unfair to him, and I burn with shame after I've criticized him, but you can't understand, I don't myself, the restless, contradictory emotions fighting for control of my mind. The constant awareness and menace of world conditions does its part toward the tumult, I suppose."

"Does that mean you doubt the wisdom of the annulment, Cinderella?"

"No. No. How can I doubt it? Kenniston Stewart is as keen for his freedom as I am, isn't he? How did we get switched to my problems. Let's tune in on another station. I was thinking the other day—you know my life story from the cradle on, I don't know who you are, where you came from, except that you are a pal of Ken Stewart's. You may be married. Your past is a blank to me.

"It isn't a blank to me, Cinderella. It has been redly and indelibly recorded on the screen of memory. When I'm through with Ken Stewart's commission, I'll give you a decade-by-decade account of my life, starting back with the career of my maternal great-grandfather, who made it possible for me to carry on my education without having to figure funds. I'll confide my ambition to be an honored citizen who counts in the welfare of this

nation while I climb to the top of my profession.*' He laughed. "Think you can take it?"

"Yes. I like the word 'honored.' "

To love and to honor, the phrase which Hal had criticized, flashed through her mind. Bill Damon would have understood.

"Did—did Counselor Armstrong notify you that the annulment case was set for tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yes."

"Will you be there?"

"I? Certainly not. As soon as I've played off my doubles I have a business appointment in Portland."

Conversation lagged after that. Cindy was afraid to speak for fear her voice would show her disappointment. She had had the foolish hope that he would see her through the hearing. At the door of The Castle, he said, "Good luck tomorrow. Good-by, 'Mrs. Stewart-for-the-last-time.' "

As Cindy entered tlie hall a radioed voice was singing:

"I want to go where you are—"

The song ceased abruptly. Sarah Ann Parker appeared at the door of the old kitchen.

"Isn't Mr. Damon comin' in to have dinner with you? Thought perhaps he would to talk over your case comin' up tomorrow. Is he plannin' to be there?"

"He isn't supposed to be present. This is an uncontested case, remember. I'd like my dinner in the patio. Sary."

She went slowly up the stairs with a curious let-down feeling. "Why shouldn't he go off on business tomorrow?" she demanded of the girl who faced her in the long mirror of her room. This annulment is nothing in his life. He didn't answer when I said, "You may be married." Probably he is. She pulled off the coral orange velvet hat, unfastened the corsage of matching sweet peas, and brushed her hand across her eyes to clear them of tears.

"I want to go where you are—"

The voice rose from below. Sarah had switched on the radio.

FOURTEEN

There was a gray-haired man in a black robe seated at a desk in the County Courthouse. On the wall above his head spread the Stars and Stripes. The sight of the flag stiffened Cindy's knees. Time she stopped feeling as if she were committing a crime. Perhaps after today the turmoil of her spirit would settle down. Perhaps in time the written contract marriage would seem as remote as if it had happened in a dream. The Judge's shaggy brows drew together in an appraising frown as the keen eyes under them met hers. Armstrong beside her inflated and deflated his cheeks.

"Mrs. Cinderella Clinton Stewart, Your Honor. Judge Shelton, Mrs. Stewart."

The man at the desk rose, reached across to offer his hand and smiled.

"I don't need an introduction to little Cindy Clinton. I used to see you when I played chess with your father before he became a celebrated inventor and I hung out my shingle for the law., We thought we were world-beaters. Sit here." He indicated a chair beside the desk. "Ready, Counselor." His voice had changed from friendliness to gravity as befitted the business before him.

She watched Armstrong step forward and spread papers on the desk without really seeing him. For one instant the friendliness of His Honor tempted her to ask if he approved of this annulment. That was a cockeyed thought. What difference would his opinion make? Ken-niston Stewart's life and hers were to be considered.

Wasn't the defendant—he wasn't a defendant, he was a non-contestant—clamoring for his freedom.

Another perfect day. A breeze drifting in through an open window brought the faint scent of autunm. Was that silly wasp crawling up the screen and sliding down trying to escape into the outside world? Did each living creature who came into this room in the Courthouse want out?

"Have you no respect for the inviolability of a contract?" Bill Damon had asked. Why hadn't he asked that question of his friend before he crossed the ocean with the declared intention of freeing him from that same contract? Now she was being irrational. Why should he try to influence either of the parties involved?

"You are quite sure you want this marriage by written contract annulled, Cinderella?"

The dark eyes peering at her over the rims of the Judge's spectacles were as grave as his voice. He was questioning her as he might a daughter; his was the role of a friendly adviser, not that of the strong arm of the law.

"Yes, Your Honor."

"I understand you never have seen Kenniston Stewart."

"That's right, sir."

More questions, more answers. Why did he repeat questions the answers to which he knew from her lawyer's presentation of the case? It seemed as if she had been sitting beside the desk for hours. The breeze had wandered away. The amethyst cotton frock with the stem of a blush-pink dahlia drawn through the belt began to feel wilted. At the last minute she had pulled on a soft hat for fear that if she appeared in the Judge's chambers without her head covered she might be fined for contempt of court.

"That's all, Cinderella Clinton." She rose as he came from behind the desk with hand extended.

"Is that really my name again?"

"It is. Counselor Armstrong will file all necessary papers and send duplicates to Kenniston Stewart. You are as free as if you never had signed that contract. Legally

your marriage is held not to have existed. Consider yourself a single girl. You may marry again as soon as you like."

"Marryl No. No. You understand, don't you, Judge Shelton, that I didn't ask for this annulment because I was in love with anyone, anyone on earth."

"I understand, Cinderella. If I had had doubts the blazing sincerity of your eyes and voice would have convinced me. I had that in mind when I granted the annulment quickly, that and the fact that you sought your freedom in your actual domicile. So many seek a court in another state to hasten a divorce in violation of the laws of their own state. Each state retains the power to regulate marriage and divorce. You were well advised."

She was thinking of his words as she stepped into her ancient jalopy in the Courthouse parking space. Sounded like an oft-rehearsed little speech to be delivered after each divorce.

Now what? Thank heaven there was no indication she would be rendered hors de combat by sleep at this milestone in her life as she had been when the responsibility of the oil holdings had been lifted from her shoulders. What a curious experience I Lucky she had been with Bill Damon who understood. Sary had relayed his explanation. It had been so believable that her fright had been assuaged. He hadn't mentioned it yesterday while they were together. Was it really business that had called him to Portland this afternoon or had he wanted to side-step the hearing?

Onel Two! Threel Fourl

A village clock intoned the hour. Only four o'clock. How quickly the marriage had been terminated that had taken such an interminable time and endless correspondence to contract. "Legally your marriage is held not to have existed. Consider yourself a single girl," Judge Shelton had said. Why think of the past? From this minute she was free to go forward. Where?

Too early to go home. Sary would be lying in wait to pounce with questions, to ply her with tea and toast as if she needed solace after a harrowing experience. On the

contrary, it had been heart-warming, the Judge had been so friendly.

W^iy sit here deliberating? She would drive to the shop where she had left the films to be blown up. She hadn't dared leave them with Ella Crane, who would have third-degreed her to find out why she wanted them enlarged, who the man and girl were.

"Hey, Cindy I Is it all over? Are you free? Now we can go places."

Hal Harding's eager voice hailed her. Hal Harding's hand was on the windshield. Hal Harding's light blue eyes were sparkling with triumph.

"Not today. Move away, Hal. I don*t want company." With a snort the jalopy leaped forward.

"You'll have company. I never give up w-h-a-t I w-a-n-t."

His shout of angry warning with its hint of threat drifted into a murmur as she gave the car all it had, which wasn't so much, until she reached the highway. She slowed down. Glanced out the rear window. He was not following. Perhaps he realized how ridiculous he appeared standing in the Courthouse parking lot shouting after a departing car.

An hour later she drove the jalopy into the garage at The Castle. It was a modern miracle that she had made the trip without a crack-up. All the way to the city and back she had relived the experiences of the last three years with Hal Harding's "You'll have company. I never give up what I want," an obbligato accompaniment. The annulment hearing had been like a hand writing finis at the bottom of a page. Now she would leave the past behind and begin a brand-new chapter.