Spring Always Comes, page 16
In case Céleste remembers that I was with her, Connie thought, Sandra has made clear that we did not come here as friends.
“Of course, Miss Kent,” Céleste said smoothly. “The rest of the afternoon, Constance, if Miss Kent wishes.”
While Connie was removing the Blue Moon dress Lil came back from lunch. “That’s Alexandra Kent, the heiress, out there,” she whispered excitedly. “Did you see her? Connie, what’s wrong? You look as though you were on the verge of collapse.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Connie said thickly. “I just feel a little faint.”
“You’d better sit down for a while,” Lil said in alarm.
“I can’t. That is, it’s all right, Lil. Madame is giving me the rest of the afternoon off.”
When Connie went into the shop Sandra had already left. She was waiting outside in her car. Connie got in beside her.
“Just drive anywhere,” Sandra directed the chauffeur. For a few moments they rode in silence, toward Park Avenue, north, west, and finally through Central Park.
“So that’s where you went when you left Emery & Emery,” Sandra said at last.
Connie looked at her in surprise.
“This afternoon I went there to see you,” Sandra told her in a voice Connie had never heard before.
“Why on earth —” Connie began.
“I thought we ought to have things clear between us,” Sandra said. “They should have been clear a long time ago, four years ago, to be exact. You’ve always known my situation. You knew I had to marry to suit father. The only possible man was Jefferson Gray. You knew he was the only one with whom I could have found a bearable life. But though you’ve lived on Kent charity for four years, though you’ve taken every admirer I ever had, everything I ever wanted, you weren’t satisfied, were you? You wanted Jeff, too.”
“Sandra! Sandra, please stop. You don’t know what you are saying. The terrible thing about words spoken in anger is that they — exist. They are always there. They can’t be wiped out after you have forgotten them, when you don’t mean them any more.”
“I don’t want these words wiped out, Connie. I went to Emery & Emery today to tell you to stay away from Jefferson Gray.”
“But I haven’t —”
“Don’t lie to me. You’ve been seeing him. As I got out of the elevator I saw him leaving the Emery & Emery office.”
“But I wasn’t even there.”
“I discovered that. An elderly woman was at the reception desk when I went in. She said you had had to leave; that there had been some trouble about the junior partner.”
“Miss Ellis,” Connie said. “That could only be Miss Ellis. And it isn’t true. I wasn’t fired, Sandra. I left of my own free will.”
“That doesn’t seem to be the general impression. But about Jeff —”
“I haven’t tried to take Jeff from you. I never would, not if my life depended on it. But you don’t love him, Sandra. You’re just fitting into your father’s pattern. And trying to fit Jeff in. We’ll never meet again, you and I, but if there were any way I could repay my huge debt to the Kents it would be by making you believe that you have a right to be Sandra, her own self, not just her father’s daughter. Will you please stop the car? I’d like to get out.”
Sandra might have been deaf. After a long time she said, “Nick told me you were planning to marry Jeff not because you loved him but because you needed his money.”
“So that’s why you asked me to dinner. To have your father sell Stony Brook for me, to give me money in order to free Jeff.”
“That’s why.”
The car stopped for a light. Quickly Connie opened the door and got out. The light changed and the car moved on, across the street, out of sight.
Connie blinked tears from her eyes and looked around. She was on Central Park West almost at the north end of the park. She took a path through the park, crossed Fifth Avenue, and started east. She was surprised to discover that her tears were still falling and she brushed them away impatiently.
Before going home she stopped at a luncheonette for coffee and freshened her makeup. She did not want to encounter Lil’s anxious eyes, Lil’s friendly questions.
But when she opened the door she found Lil engaged in banter with Colin Emery, who was complaining about the operation of a venetian blind and was bent on repairing it.
“Not now,” Lil wailed. “You mess up everything in the place and I have to get dinner.”
“I’ll take you two girls out to dinner.”
Grateful that Lil had been too preoccupied to notice her, Connie escaped to her own room. She had a bad headache, she told Colin, so she’d have to ask for a raincheck on the dinner. The headache was true enough, she thought, as she lay on her bed.
The ring at the bell came while Lil was busy so Connie went to answer it. It was Jeff! Stay away from Jeff, Sandra had said. You’ve always taken everything I wanted.
Then the stamp album was, unbelievably, in her hands; Nick was safe. It was all Jeff’s doing.
He looked over her shoulder, saw Colin working on the venetian blind, and his eyes shut her out, they were the eyes of a stranger.
I’ll never see him again, Connie thought, numb with pain. Never again. She jumped nervously as the telephone rang.
“Please take it, Connie,” Lil called from the kitchen.
“Connie?” It was Nick’s voice. “Have you heard from Jeff?”
“Yes, he was just here. He left the — the —”
“Okay, I know. You don’t have to spell it out. I have a few minutes before train time so —”
“Where are you going, Nick?”
“What you don’t know you can’t tell.”
“But, Nick, I wouldn’t say a word.”
“They have — ways. That’s why I called, Connie. I just wanted to say — look out for yourself.”
“Nick,” her voice rose, “just one thing. Please! Does — one of them — have red hair?”
She heard Nick gasp. “Yeah. Why?”
“He’s been following me. Who is he, Nick? What does he want?”
“His name is Guy Holt.”
“Guy Holt?”
“He’s bad medicine, Connie. Very bad medicine. So long.” She heard the telephone click at the other end.
She stared unbelievingly at the phone and then set it down. Then she saw that Colin had stopped working, that he was watching her without a trace of his usual lightheartedness. Before he could question her she went hastily into her room and closed the door. She sagged against it.
Seventeen
It was one of those wickedly expensive French restaurants with simple decorations, no music or entertainment, but truly superlative food and service. The tables were widely spaced so that there was plenty of privacy for each, no necessity for people to crowd past, no likelihood of overhearing conversations or having one’s own overheard.
At a table for two Sandra Kent sat facing Stephen Emery. The waiter had helped them to compose a meal that, he assured them, would be like a poem.
When he had gone Sandra looked across the table to find Emery’s eyes on her face. No man had ever looked at her in that way before, as though everything he saw gave him great pleasure, and Sandra, who was usually self-possessed, found herself blushing.
Three or four times she had seen him, ruthlessly breaking previous engagements to be with him: the Royal ballet, a play, a concert, and tonight dinner at the quiet French restaurant. Usually reserved, Sandra discovered that she talked more with this man than with anyone except Connie. Connie who had been her closest, most intimate friend. Connie who was now her enemy.
She tried to put aside her memory of the afternoon, her attack on Connie, Connie’s unexpected reply. Was there any possibility that Connie had been telling her the truth?
“And what exciting things have you been up to?” Emery asked.
Sandra smiled at him. “You’d never guess. This afternoon I paid a visit to your office.”
“My office! Why didn’t you let me know that you were there?”
“I wouldn’t have dreamed of disturbing you.”
“You wouldn’t have disturbed me.” For a moment his eyes held hers and then he smiled. “Or perhaps you would. Yes, you would undoubtedly have been disturbing. But I think you have already guessed, Alexandra, that I like being disturbed by you.”
He was telling her the simple truth. He really meant it. This distinguished, aloof man, Stephen Emery, admired her as no other man ever had. She was unaware of the change caused by that genuine masculine admiration. Her face glowed, came alive, achieved a kind of beauty.
“In any case,” she said rather hastily, “my reason in going there was to see a — a friend of mine.”
“Miss Wyndham, of course. Remember I met you through her.” For a moment the self-contained Emery seemed rather at a loss. “Yes. Well, as you were probably told, she has resigned. We were — ah — sorry to lose her. I hope she has found a position that suits her better.”
“She has become a model for Céleste,” Sandra said tartly. “I found her there by sheer accident. I do a considerable amount of buying from Céleste.”
“A model!” He was startled. “I can’t understand it.”
Sandra, sipping clear soup, said, “To be frank with you, Stephen, I can’t understand it either. Connie is a strange girl. I begin to think that I have never really known her. As to why she left her job with you I’ve heard two very different versions. Your receptionist, an elderly woman, said that she had been forced to leave because of some trouble with your younger brother.”
“An elderly woman? That must be Miss Ellis. Now and then she relieves the regular receptionist. I’ve been told by Colin that she was rather unpleasant to Miss Wyndham. The jealousy of a plain woman for a beautiful one.”
Sandra was aware that she, too, was jealous. The way Stephen spoke of Connie’s beauty reawakened the anger that had driven her earlier in the day and that had faded into discomfort, almost into a feeling of guilt, after Connie had left her.
He was speaking again. “But, in a sense, what the woman said was true. There was some trouble about my brother but it was not of Miss Wyndham’s making. It was my own. I did something that seemed justifiable to me at the time but that I have been thinking since might have been a profound mistake. My brother — do you mind my discussing these personal matters with you, Alexandra? I’d like to have you understand. That’s why I was so insistent about you dining with me tonight. And I haven’t thanked you properly yet, have I, for breaking another engagement for me.”
Sandra’s fingers touched the corsage at her shoulder. “Surely these exquisite gardenias are adequate thanks. Anyhow —”
“Anyhow?” he prompted her.
“I’d like to have you tell me these personal things.”
“Good. I hoped you might. Well, the thing is that I probably took my responsibility toward my younger brother too seriously, or rather, as Miss Wyndham believes, I misunderstood what that responsibility really was. We’re a family of lawyers and I thought Colin should follow the family tradition. In fact, I insisted on it. Result is that, in rebellion, he has simply turned into a playboy who shirks his job as much as he can. Then when I began to observe Miss Wyndham, the beauty and charm and that fine sense of integrity she has, I thought that if Colin were to marry her she would probably be the one girl who could make him settle down.”
For a few minutes he devoted himself to coq au vin. “So Miss Wyndham challenged me with treating her and Colin as though they were puppets, of failing to respect my brother as a person and leaving him free to live his own life. Then she resigned and left the office.”
Again there was a small silence at the table. Again it was the usually taciturn Stephen who broke it.
“She is an unusually fine person. Obviously she has to earn her living but she isn’t mercenary or she would have jumped at the chance to marry Colin. And she has the courage of her convictions. She threw away her job in her attempt to help my brother, though she obviously has no personal interest in him.”
While the waiter removed plates, substituted others, they spoke of casual matters. When they were alone again he asked abruptly, “Was I wrong, Alexandra?”
“Wrong in what way?”
“Wrong in trying to make Colin a successful lawyer, in trying to help him find a suitable wife.
Sandra was silent, her fingers crumbling a roll. She was filled with a wave of self-disgust. What had she done to Connie? How could she have been so cruel, so unfair?
“Alexandra?” Emery said.
“Yes, I think perhaps you were wrong,” she said slowly. “It’s hard to tell what is best, isn’t it? For other people, I mean.”
“I asked because I thought you’d have a special understanding. Miss Wyndham believes that you, too, have been a victim of well-meaning interference; that your father has attempted to manage your life for you.” He smiled more deeply. “She said you had never had an opportunity to find yourself, to be yourself, to discover happiness in your own way. She was most indignant about it.”
Tears suddenly blinded Sandra. She blinked them away. I wish, she thought, I hadn’t spoken to Connie as I did. And I can’t wipe them out. Words, she said, are always there once they have been spoken. They will always be there. Bitter, angry words. Unjust words.
“I think we all make bad mistakes in judgment, Stephen, and perhaps the one I’ve made in regard to Connie is worse than the one you’ve made in regard to your brother. What hurts me most is realizing that it is Connie, really, who is paying for all these mistakes.”
“I hope not,” Stephen said, but without a great deal of interest. The girl beside him was so much more absorbing. “She’s a nice girl. I hope not. Still that is not what interests me most. What seems most important to me is that you should not pay for the mistakes of anyone else. I’d like to think that you were completely free to make your own choice, your own decision.”
But that, of course, was impossible, Sandra thought. She could not conceivably marry a man who could not be a son to her father, the son who could replace him eventually at Kent Enterprises. And yet it would be wonderful to marry a man who looked at her not with Jeff’s cool detached friendship but with warmth, with admiration, with something deeper, more thrilling than either, something for which she was not ready to find a name.
Before she could speak there was an outburst of delighted laughter. Stephen turned his head and said in surprise, “Good lord, there’s Colin. I wonder who the girl is?”
ii
“It looks awfully fashionable and expensive,” Lil said, hanging back.
Colin’s hand tightened on her arm as he steered her into the French restaurant. “This is my party. I want to show you off and there will be no back talk from you, young lady.”
“Yes, sir,” she said with mock humility. “Yes, master. Okay, boss.”
But when she noticed that there were no prices listed on the menu she balked again. “Colin! It must cost the earth. I’m scared to order. Let’s go somewhere else.”
He grinned at her. “Why didn’t I meet you sooner? Most of the gals I know like spending money, especially mine.”
“But you can’t afford it.”
“Hey, I’m not on relief yet.”
“But if you’re going to stock your farm with really fine cattle, besides all the equipment and machinery you will need —”
“Hey,” he protested again. “I haven’t got that farm yet.”
“But you will,” she said confidently. “And I was thinking last night that one of my uncles works for a company that manufactures farm machinery and he could maybe get you a discount.”
Then he laughed. “You know what? I’m always happy when I’m with you. So we’ll count off the dinner against the money I’ll save on farm machinery. You busy next Saturday? I thought you might drive out with me to look at a couple of places that are on the market.”
“I’d love to.”
He was delighted by the glow in her face. “That’s the way girls usually talk about nightclubs or jewelry or mink. Instead, you get all excited about looking at dairy farms.”
“They are more important than jewelry,” she said calmly, “and lots more interesting.”
His eyes twinkled at her. “How would you like to be a milkmaid for the rest of your life?”
“You’ll never make money by depending on hand labor,” she said severely. “You should have electric —”
He leaned back with a shout of laughter that suddenly died on his lips.
“What’s wrong?” Lil asked.
“My brother Steve. Across the room. With that girl with the brown hair and the white dress.”
Lil turned casually. “That’s Miss Kent, the heiress. She’s one of Céleste’s biggest customers.”
After a while Colin said in concern, “You aren’t eating. Don’t you like the food?”
“It’s out of this world but —”
“What’s wrong, Lil?” The teasing was gone. “You can tell me, dear.”
“Well, it’s just — well, your brother wants you to — to like Connie and you were going to tell him it was really Connie you came to see and —”
“And,” Colin said, his voice very quiet, very gentle, “you said you didn’t want me to come back if I were ashamed of you. Do you think I’m ashamed, Lil? Lil, look at me! I can’t even begin to believe my luck at having found a girl like you. And I don’t intend to lose you if I can help it. What I’m setting out to do, as of now, is to try to be worthy of you, to deserve you. Then I’m going to bring up that question about the milkmaid again.”
Lil’s eyes were sparkling. “I told you before,” she said with mock severity, “that it doesn’t pay to do the milking by hand.”
A little later Colin said, his voice serious, “Lil, what’s all this about Connie? Did you hear that telephone call tonight? Nick — that’s her half brother, isn’t it? — he knows the red-headed man who has been following Connie.”
“Did you see her face when she came in tonight, Colin? She had been crying.”
“That man had been annoying her?”
