To love and to honor (14 page)

"Then I will take it and write him a fervent 'Thank you' when I send a report of this afternoon's Court proceedings and his ring."

"Turn the ring over to me. It should be boxed and insured. I can take that off your shoulders."

"Thank you." She unlocked a drawer in the desk and took out a white velvet case. "Here it is. Now the very last link in that marriage by contract is broken."

As he dropped the case into his pocket she tried to unclasp the necklace.

"Let me do that. Why take it off? I have been told that pearls should be worn night and day."

"You don't know the difficulties of living with Sarah Ann Parker." The touch of his fingers against her neck sent little tingles along her veins. He put the necklace in her hand. She returned to the desk and laid it tenderly in the violet case.

"I need time in which to arrange my explanation as to why they were given to me. Sary knows every article in my wardrobe, every piece of jewelry I own. When I write Kenniston Stewart I'll tell him he picked an irresistible advocate when he sent you. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"As if you were about to spring? Don't you like the orchid I handed you?"

"Sure. I hope the next time I have a case to argue— which something tells me will be the supreme effort of my life—I will be as successful. I'll write Ken that his

gift pleased you. I forgot." He handed her the white covered box.

"Somewhat of a drop from pearls, but I thought you might enjoy a few chocolates from the big city."

"Chocolates!" She ripped off the paper cover. "What a gorgeous box! Wonderful! I haven't had one from this super, super shop for years. You've come across in a big way. Must be five pounds. Have one."

He shook his head.

"I believe you are more pleased with the candy than with the pearls," he declared incredulously.

She laughed, as after careful inspection of the delectable assortment she selected a chocolate, and looked up at him from under the sweep of long lashes.

"A huge box of candy has a romantic appeal. Silly, isn't it? Besides, you thought of this yourself. You didn't ask anyone to do it for you. That's one reason I love it."

"Ken Stewart thought of the pearls himself," he reminded indignantly.

"Yes, but he didn't take the trouble to select them."

"Want to know something? I think you're darned unfair. Good evening. I'm off."

"Why the rush? Mad with me?"

"When you smile in that beguiling way I couldn't be. I haven't dined. While getting this important assignment off my mind I have been nobly concealing the pangs of starvation. Never try to detain a hungry man, Cinderella, his resistance is nil. Could be he might go a little mad and say something he shouldn't. If you don't mind I'll leave by the front door. I have a hunch that someone in a car without lights parked by the side of the road observed my clandestine entrance. We'll make my exit regular."

He paused on the threshold.

"Yesterday when you inquired as to my past, you said, *You may be married.' I'm not. Good night."

Why had he suddenly remembered that he hadn't answered my question? she wondered. I'm glad he isn't married. Now I can go all out in liking him. I've had a curious feeling that I'd better watch my step. I forgot to ask him if he is invited to Alida Barclay's dinner for

Mrs. Drew. He didn't wait to j^ive me a chance to say "Good night." The door closed with a bang. Nothing clandestine about that slam, it could be heard at the Inn. Is it he whistling with operatic fervor, "Some Enchanted Evening"?

She raised the shade and stood at the open window listening till the sound trailed oft in the direction of the garage. Had he left his club coup^ there? Lights sprang on across the road. A parked car? Had the entrance and exit of Bill Damon been watched? Who would do it? A vision of a man with a tilted hat brim caught at her breath.

SIXTEEN

The eight tall vases of rose-pink glads, placed at an equal distance against the glass walls o£ the large porch which was an extension of the dining room at White Pillars, made a dramatic setting for the oval table with its choice lace, gleaming silver, gold-etched crystal, and gilt candelabra holding high eight tapers the exact color of the flowers in the background and the sweet peas in the low golden bowl in the center. Through an open window came a soft breeze, the heavy scent of stock and the damp earth of a garden.

A dramatic setting for Mrs. Drew also, and she is making the most of it, Cindy thought, as from under long lashes she observed the woman seated at the right of Seth Armstrong, who presided at one end of the table. Her hair, which Lyd had dubbed "brassy," had been toned to the shade of golden honey, clipped and curved to the shape of the skull, then dipped at the sides in a winged effect. Her "doe" eye make-up lifted at the temples like the tip of a wing was nothing short of seductive, it accentuated the brilliance of her dark eyes. Her skin was smooth and colorless as a gardenia. The brilliant coral pink of her bow-shaped mouth was emphasized by a black beauty patch near one comer of her lips. Her white bodice glittering with opaline sequins— what there was of it visible above the table—lavishly, generously exposed neck, shoulders and arms, the left one glittering with diamond bracelets. Long chandelier pearl earrings which touched her shoulders were the

TO LOVE AND TO HONOR lig

only other jewels except rings a trifle more glittering than her pointed coral-pink fingernails.

"Hey, come out of the silence, Cindy," softly admonished Tom Slade at her right. "You've been staring at the guest of honor as if you'd never seen a woman in evening dress before."

"Right on the nose, Thomas. I've never seen quite so much of one before. She is lovely. He hair-do is the most ravishing ever designed by the mind of man."

"I don't like it as well as yours. Tonight you are looking like a million, lovely." He turned to the woman in gun-metal satin seated at his right and Seth Armstrong's left, her thin neck fenced in by a high dog collar of diamonds.

"I beg pardon, did you speak to me, Madam?"

"I said, 'HussyI' to anyone who would listen." She pointed the word at the woman across the table.

Tom Slade's color already brilliant from sun and wind took on an added red.

"Hold it, she'll hear you/' he warned and turned to Cindy.

"Brief me, quick, or I'll go down for the third time. Who is the Queen Mary twin at my right?"

"Counselor Armstrong's Aunt Minerva, *Min* to her friends. Talk with her. She's interesting. Knows the name of every senator and representative in Congress and from which state they hail. Writes letters to them when she disagrees with their policies. She's an investment wizard also. The lady has views."

"You're telling me. She's agin the Circe who at the moment is bent on the enslavement of her nephew. She-"

"Young man," a sharp voice at his right interrupted, stopping all other conversation at the table. "Pay proper respect to your elders. Stop talking to Cinderella Clinton."

"Cinderella Clintonl" Mrs. Drew exclaimed. All eyes followed hers to Cindy's flushing face. "Was Miss Armstrong referring to you, sugar? Was the maid stupid when she announced you as Mrs. Stewart at Rockledge the other day?"

How maddening, I can't tell her that my marriage was annulled the day after my call, can I? Why didn't someone say something.

"Mrs. Drew, I'm not an envious person," Bill Damon was smiling engagingly at the woman at his left, "but, if I were to envy anyone I would you. I think your yacht is the slickest craft that comes into this harbor. You must be an expert to pick such a boat."

"Do you really. Colonel?" Cindy was aware of the little sigh of relief that ran around the table as the guest of honor turned an expanse of beautiful naked back on her host and brought her whole battery of charm to bear on the man at her right. "Then perhaps you will sail with us sometime.'*

"I'm all for it."

"I was brought up to believe that a 'sometime* invitation amounted to a 'no-time' invitation. I intend to nail you down to a date later in the evening. Colonel."

"Hmp! I guess that did it." Minerva Armstrong's remark to Slade set tongues loose again. "Young man, someone mumbled your name, I didn't get it."

"Thomas Slade, Second."

"That sounds strong and reliable. Now, let Cindy talk to Judge Shelton, and pay attention to me."

"I'd love to, Aunt Minerva, you see someone mumbled your name also. I hear you're a stand-in for the Goddess of Wisdom. Bear with me if I seem shy. I'm just a little Western lad unused to the effete East and its manners. You terrify me with your diamonds and dignity."

"Which part of the West?" She chuckled. "Cowboy?**

Tom is safely off skiddy ground, Cindy thought and turned to answer a question of Judge Shelton at her left.

"I have not made plans for the winter, Your Honor. Just at present I'm drifting and loving it."

The word drifting reminded her of Bill Damon's advice. He was seated across the table from her. When he was not talking to the guest of honor at his left he appeared to be absorbed in conversation with Lydia Fane at his right. Her eyes were as brilliant as her emeralds; the off the shoulder line of her green frock

was perhaps an inch higher than Mrs. Drew's. She almost not quite snubbed Hal Harding who was sulking at her right. He was left high and deserted as a beached boat on a desert island when Ally Barclay at his other side was being monopolized by Judge Shelton.

Delicious dinner, expert service, Cindy thought and wondered if the two wisteria-silk-uniformed maids were those Sary said had been brought from New York. A beautiful party, as far as color went, she qualified. The lovely glads in the background, Mrs. Drew in sparkling white—if the scrap of costume showing denoted the remainder; Lyd in brilliant green; Ally Barclay in luscious mauve; myself in bouffant nylon net the exact shade of the glads; Aunt Min the minor chord in gray; the men in white dinner jackets, and—

"We'll have coffee in the living room." The voice of the hostess derailed her train of thought. "Judge Shelton has to leave. Cinderella, will you pour for me while I speed the parting guest?"

Later Tom Slade came to the table at which Cindy was seated and took a slow, appraising look around the large room. He whistled softly.

"The person who planned this decoration is an artist. The effect of French eighteenth-century paper panels set in blue-green walls, silk hangings to match, is something to write home about. Where do you suppose they picked up all these fine old pieces of French furniture? If the rug I'm standing on isn't a priceless Aubusson, I'll eat my hat."

"Spare your hat, Mr. Slade, it is." Seth Armstrong confirmed his judgment. He held out a cup. "Coffee for Mrs. Drew, Cinderella." As Tom Slade departed with a cup and saucer in each hand, he added, "I was sorry that our guest commented about your change of name. I have straightened it out with her."

"Thank you. Counselor. It took my breath for a minute. She came to The Castle last week for tea, I thought she knew then. Fortunately Colonel Damon rushed into the breach."

"Bill Damon coming up." He set a cup on the tray in front of her as Seth Armstrong turned away from the

table. "Black. This coffee is for Miss Fane, I'm taking it to her after which I'm coming back to tell you how lovely you are in that misty pink." As he crossed the room Hal Harding took his place.

"One cup. Black. Why did you call on the Drew menace after I advised you not to, Cindy?"

"I told you I intended to be neighborly. You said you had not met her. Now that you have, is she so terrible? You'll have to admit she's a snappy dresser."

"She's cheap. I wish you'd give her the cold shoulder. Damon had the nerve to invite himself aboard her yacht."

"He dashed in to avert an explanation which would have been embarrassing. As I remember it, she invited him for a sail." She looked up with a smile. "More coffee. Colonel?"

"I resent that 'more.' The first cup was for Miss Fane. She told me you were getting a second for her, Harding. Better take it. The Counselor said that if there were no objections he would tune in on the broadcast 'Missing Persons.' He explained that he is on the trail of a man who has skipped out with an important will and had asked the station to broadcast facts in the case."

"Sometimes I think that wills make more trouble than they prevent," Harding growled and departed with two cups.

"A large part of his fortune was tied up in a trust fund," Cindy interpreted.

"So I have heard." Damon dropped two cubes of sugar into the small cup. "Miss me while I was away?"

She was tempted to tell the truth and answer, "Terribly," but his nearness and the light in his eyes as he looked down into hers set her pulses tapping a warning, "Go slow." She laughed.

"Miss you? Yes and no. I didn't have much chance to miss anyone. We had a lot of rain which turned the putting contest I planned for Mrs. Drew into a tea. Then I had my accounting to finish. As if that were not sufficient to keep me busy I had an acute attack of put-my-house-in-order, and cleared out slews of useless things."

"You haven't mentioned being with Slade during my absence. That put-my-house-in-order attack doesn't mean that you are getting ready to go West with him, I hope."

Did the grave question mean that he would care if she did? She rested her elbow on the lace-covered table, cupped her chin in hand and looked up at him.

"Now that's an idea." The laughter of happiness brightened her eyes, rippled her voice. "Perhaps I'd better mention it to Tom."

"You know you have the power to torment me and are reveling in it, aren't you, Cinderella? Watch your step. I'm not playing. Why didn't you wear your pearls?"

It took her an instant to rally to his quick change of subject.

"I couldn't stand up under what I knew would be Lyd Fane's barrage of questions as to where they came from, I'm getting soft. I can't take it."

"We shall have to come out with the truth about them later. They would have been perfect with the pink frock. I like the long stem and leaves of the rose tucked under the shoulder strap. I've noticed that you never wear rings. I know why you didn't wear one. Don't you like them?"