Authors: Mary Cummins
“Perhaps I’ll give it to Kilpatrick,” he told her bitterly.
CHAPTER
8
MERRY
bought a new dress for the exhibition, a beautiful gold sheath which made her russet
-
brown hair sparkle with copper lights. Sylvia sulked a little when she saw it, and grumbled at the small allowance she had been receiving from her father.
“I think Daddy’s growing very mean,” she pouted. “He says his income has been reduced, but he’s always grumbling about money, though he manages very well. I w
i
sh I could have another dress. I don’t suppose...
?
”
“No,” said Merry, very firmly. “That new one you bought on my account will be quite good enough, Sylvia, and I’m not staking you to any more clothes. Why don’t you get a job, anyway, and earn yourself some pocket money?”
Sylvia flounced round the room.
“What sort of work could I do?” she demanded. “I’d hate having to get up to go to an office or shop every morning. It would be absolutely ghastly, and Mummy wouldn’t approve at all.”
Merry thought of the two articles and story which she had just had rejected. Unless a miracle happened, and she sold her book, then she might need to find a job herself.
“Other people have to,” she said slowly.
“I could always be a model, I suppose,” said Sylvia, stretching her arms behind her head,
“like I did for Benjamin. That wasn’t too bad. Though maybe I’d be better to think of marriage. Maybe it’s about time I settled down, though it’s been fun having lots of
boyfriends...”
“Anyone in mind?” asked Merry, rather too quickly, and Sylvia grinned at her wickedly.
“Perhaps,” she said impishly. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Which one would you like me to leave for you, darling? That just might ... I say,
might
influence my choice.”
Merry’s face was scarlet with annoyance. Sylvia was outrageous at times, and took no thought of anyone’s feeling but her own.
“Why should you imagine that I’d enjoy accepting what you leave?” she asked icily. “Anyway, I’ve always believed that people marry for love, not for any other reason. I would have thought that would govern your choice. It would certainly be the only reason for me.”
Sylvia looked at her sideways from under her long lashes, and filed her immaculate nails.
“Want me to guess who it is?” she asked, swinging her long legs on to the settee. “You should learn to cover up your feeling a bit better. It saves embarrassment for the poor chap when he sees poor females wilting for love of him.”
“Be quiet!” snapped Merry, her face now deathly pale. “You go too far, Sylvia. My
private life is my own affair, and no one else’s.”
Sylvia’s eyes widened at Merry’s anger, and she tried to shrug it off with a slight smile.
“Goodness, darling, you do get worked up! I was only teasing.”
“All right,” muttered Merry, and went off to find Mrs. Cameron, her inner peace in a turmoil. How
could
Sylvia say such things to her? Yet was it true that Benjamin had noticed her growing love for him? Was that why he obviously wanted her to be special friends with Nigel
?
Her head ached again, and she began to wish she had never come to Beau Ness. She had been almost happier as an upper-class servant to her aunt and uncle. At least, that was how she had always felt. She had never been a daughter in their house, though Sylvia looked as though she was now considering herself part owner of Beau Ness without taking any part of the responsibilit
i
es.
“
Benjamin’s right,” thought Merry dispiritedly, “I am spineless. I should ask Sylvia to leave, and concentrate on my writing.”
She could love that enough to make herself a happy life, with only Mrs. Cameron to keep her company. The prospect felt very attractive at the moment.
Before the exhibition, Merry went over to Rossie House and helped Nigel by typing out a list of goods to be shown. She was quick to see
how to prepare the list, as each item was ticketed, one side with red ink denoting the stock number, and the other side with the price, in code.
“I don’t know how we managed before you came, Merry,” Nigel told her, as she took a neatly tabulated list out of her typewriter. “Any time you need a job, there’s one waiting for you at Kilpatricks.”
Merry paused to look at him thoughtfully. “Is there?” she asked.
“You know Miss Lennox left to get married,” he explained. “We haven’t been able to find a suitable replacement yet
...
one who is wholly competent and trustworthy. Mistakes can often mean quite a loss, you see. That’s why I’ve been so grateful for your help, and hope you won’t be offended if we offer you a small fee.”
Merry saw that Nigel was being very straightforward and businesslike, and regarded him, consideringly.
“Thank you,” she said, quietly, “and Nigel
...
if my book is hopeless, perhaps we could talk about that job again. Is it a deal?”
“It’s a deal,” he agreed, and bent to kiss her ligh
tl
y.
“Oh, am I interrupting? Sorry!”
Colour flew to Merry’s cheeks, as Benjamin stood regarding them from the doorway.
“I’m looking for your father, Nigel,” he said. “I need his help over a form I have to fill in.”
“He’s in the room across the hall with Stephanie and David,” said Nigel, though there was a frown of annoyance on his face. He hated being caught at a disadvantage.
“Thanks,” said Benjamin, and smiled briefly as he closed the door.
“Sorry about that,” said Nigel, glancing at Merry.
“Oh, I don’t suppose Benjamin would mind,” she told him, in a low voice.
“
We’d better do the animal brooches now. Isn’t this little gold hedgehog with ruby eyes sweet? And this tiny bird with its nest of pearls for eggs? I do think they’re dainty.”
“I like this dog with the diamond collar,” Nigel told her, his good humour quickly restored, “and the cat with the moveable head and tail.” He laid out the beautifully designed animals in eighteen-carat gold, all encrusted with jewels.
“I expect Sylvia would like this one, though,” he went on, smiling indulgently as he picked up a small poodle completely encrusted with diamonds.
Merry nodded, but made no remark. There was tension in her home now, and it was beginning to get on her nerves. Soon
...
very soon ... she was going to have to ask Sylvia to leave.
The Royal Hotel had the finest reputation in Hillington and Merry liked its atmosphere of quiet good taste and slightly faded decor. The room which had been set aside from Kilpatrick’s jewellery exhibition was in dusty pink and gold, and this time Merry felt no stranger to the proceedings as she pinned her small white button to her dress, and watched Sylvia delightedly doing the same. The colour had been changed for security reasons.
Nigel had brought them both, but now he left the girls outside the ladies’ cloakroom, and went to check up on several things and see about displaying the stock on the usual stands. Stephanie was supervising the models, and David Bruce was in charge of the stands. Once again Merry was helping with checking the lists of special pieces being worn by the models, though she herself would not model any pieces this time. Sylvia, however, was delighted when Nigel asked her to wear the pink topaz ring. She had fallen in love with it at first sight, and was very thrilled at being allowed to wear it.
As they went to the changing room to join the other girls, they found Stephanie busy with instructions, though she turned to smile a welcome at Merry and Sylvia. She now wore, very proudly, a surprisingly small engagement ring on her left hand, and when Sylvia, with her usual thoughtless candour, remarked on this, Stephanie only smiled serenely.
“David insisted on affording the ring himself,” she said, a hint of pride in the toss of her head. “It’s my own choice.”
Merry found this new Stephanie much more likeable, though Sylvia considered she had grown rather dull.
“She’s just the type to end up a
hausfrau
,”
she remarked to Merry later. “That type always does, once she’s kicked over the traces.”
“She looked happy,” defended Merry, “and I’m glad. She’s not exactly a bosom friend, but she’s straightforward and I like that.”
Now Stephanie was giving each girl a number, and writing it down against the sets of jewellery they were going to wear.
“When the girls return,” she told Merry, “you can check each item, see that it’s put in its velvet case, and Nigel will pack the boxes into the fitted case. Got that?”
“Just like last time,” smiled Merry, though she was interested to
see the new selections. She liked the pearl and turquoise set, which consisted of a multi-strand necklace of cultured pearls with a turquoise-studded gold fastener. This had a matching bracelet and brooch. There was also a set in rubies and diamonds, with sapphire and diamonds in a similar design.
One of the models, clad in a sheath of purple velvet, was wearing a heavy gold necklace and bracelet. Merry looked at the number on her list and saw that it was described as a collar necklace.
“It’s very heavy to wear,” the model confided to her, “but somehow one doesn’t mind. It looks so magnificent.”
“Do you like doing jewellery?” Merry asked her.
“Yes, I think I like it best, though I enjoy the furs, too.”
A firm of furriers, whom Nigel knew well, were exhibiting their furs first of all, and Merry went with Stephanie and Sylvia to sit at a small side table, and watch this with interest. The guests were all present by invitation, and again Merry found them an unusual mixture. Some obviously admired the beauty of the finished product, while others considered it in terms of cost. Merry liked to look at the overall attractiveness of each outfit, and especially liked the small fur hats which matched the coats.
Soon, however, it was their turn, and the guests were milling round the stands, admiring the lovely pieces of jewellery which were being displayed, and relaxing again for the final mannequin display.
Merry enjoyed it all hugely, though part of her felt her responsibility keenly as she checked off necklaces and ear-rings, putting them into velvet-lined leather cases, while Nigel packed them into a square fitted case.
Sylvia was in her element, as she walked down the floor, a vision of pale silvery beauty, and displayed the huge and very beautiful pink topaz ring while Mr. Kilpatrick commented on it, giving the size in carats, describing the setting and quoting its price. Sylvia’s eyes were brilliant with excitement when she finally took the ring back to Merry.
“It’s absolutely wonderful,” she said, popping it into its case. “It’s the most fabulous ring ever. Have you marked it off, Merry?”
She nodded, bending over the paper, ticked the number, then passed on the ring box to Nigel. There was only the diamonds which Stephanie was wearing. They, too, were what she had worn before, with the addition of a trembler brooch. This was shaped like a spray of flowers, each flower head being set on a small spring, so that the brooch shimmered and trembled under the bright lights.
“I hope some of our old dowagers buy them this time,” said Stephanie, as she took off the pieces and packed them away. “I think the ring might go, though. I saw a few drooling faces ... though it’s a bit pricey.”
“I like the pearls best of all, though they’re a bit pricey, too,” said Merry.
“You must find yourself a rich husband,” said Stephanie without the old sardonic note in her voice.
“Yes, I must,” smiled Merry.
Her smile felt a little stiff, though. She had looked in vain for Benjamin that evening, and learned later that he’d had to go to London, unexpectedly, on business.
Perhaps that was why the evening went flat on Merry after a while, and she was glad when the last of the pieces had been put in the cases, and the strong fitted jewellery case and leather briefcases had been locked away.
Nigel took them all back to Rossie House for coffee and the very welcome sandwiches, and Merry discovered that she was hungry. She didn’t care for champagne, and there had only been a few crisps and nuts by way of eats. Now she ate the dainty chicken sandwiches with enjoyment and was able to join in the general excitement. Sylvia seemed to glow like a jewel herself, though, and Merry looked suspiciously, once or twice, at her flushed cheeks and shining eyes. Surely Sylvia hadn’t been drinking more than one glass of champagne!
Nigel, too, was staring at Sylvia, rather like a moth fluttering round the flame, and Merry wondered how long it would be before his heart took charge of his head, and he asked Sylvia to marry him
.
Her attraction for him was now obvious for all to see, and she saw Stephanie’s small frown of annoyance, and wondered if her cousin would really be welcomed by the Kilpatricks. That Nigel would be welcomed by Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle George was a foregone conclusion.
Merry sighed and wondered a
little
about having Sylvia living permanently close to her at Rossie House. Was she unnatural because she couldn’t love Sylvia as much as she ought to love her only cousin? Marriage might improve and set
tl
e her, thought Merry hopefully, and got to her feet deciding that it was time to go.
The following Monday morning, after breakfast, Nigel telephoned and asked if Merry and Sylvia could come over to Rossie House. It was urgent.
“You go, darling,” yawned Sylvia. “I feel tired today, and it must be for something dull when it’s just after breakfast. I mean ... an invitation to do something exciting would come after lunch or in the evening, wouldn’t it?”
“Nigel said both of us, and it’s urgent,” said Merry firmly. “He sounded
...
upset ... or something. Or he could have been excited. Perhaps he’s sold the ring
!”
Sylvia examined her nails, then jumped up and fussed over some magazines. She had been a bit restless over the weekend, and Merry suspected that she had been waiting for Nigel to call her on Sunday, and had been disappointed. Now she didn’t want to appear too eager to see him.
Or could it mean that she was missing Benjamin, too? Merry had felt strangely lonely, knowing that the Cot House was empty, as though a light, however flickering, had suddenly been extinguished. Nothing seemed right with her world, now that Benjamin wasn’t standing by.
“Come on, Sylvia,” she said, a trifle impatiently. “The Kilpatricks want to see us. I don’t think we can completely ignore their invitation, do you?”
“Oh, all right,” agreed Sylvia, “I’ll come this time,” and watched Merry quickly sort through the early morning post. “By the way, have you heard if you’ve sold your book yet? Will
...
will you get a lot of money?”
“I’ve only an acknowledgement,” Merry told her. “I’ll just have to wait until I do hear, though it’s very important to me. I’m afraid to think how important. I don’t think it will earn me much money, but even a little would help. The little children’s book I did with Benjamin is going to bring in a little, but not nearly enough. I may decide to take Nigel up on the offer of a job. Maybe that’s why he wants to see us
... offer us a job, I mean.”
“Not me, darling,” said Sylvia, shaking her head, as she buttoned on her warm woollen coat. “He wouldn’t offer me a job! That’s not what interests me at all. How are we going to Rossie House? Is he sending the car?”
“Ten minutes’ walk,” said Merry firmly. “Don’t be mad, Sylvia. Come on. I’ll just tell Mrs. Cameron in case we’re late back for lunch.”
There was an air of disturbance about Rossie
House when they arrived and a rather scared
-
looking Jeanie Lumsden took their coats and showed them into the study where they could hear several voices talking angrily and excitedly.
“Ah, here they are,” said Nigel, as they walked in the door, and Merry looked swiftly round the group, seeing Mr. Kilpatrick standing by his desk, his face pale and drawn. Stephanie, too, was pale and haughty-looking, while David Bruce’s face was red with anger.
Merry could feel Nigel’s fingers trembling on her arm, as he led them into the room, and soon everyone was shouting again, while questions reeled about her head.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” cried Nigel. “One at a time! Merry! Do you remember checking the topaz ring?”
Merry looked bewildered.
“Of course I do.”
“And you got it back from Sylvia?”
“Of course she did!
”
cried Sylvia indignantly.
“Of course I did,” nodded Merry. “I marked it off.”
“
What did you do with it then?”
“Gave it to you, Nigel. It was in that small blue leather ring case.”
“Well, it’s not there now!” cried Stephanie. “What do you have to say to that?”
Merry found that she couldn’t say anything. Sylvia was staring, wide-eyed, at the empty box, her face suddenly pale with fright.
“I ... I can’t understand it,” said Merry.
“Think, my dear,” said Mr. Kilpatrick kindly. “Was anyone near you at the time?”
She shook her head.
“Any of the staff
...
any of the models, even?” broke in David Bruce. “It’s always the staff who get blamed, you know
!”
“Nobody’s blaming you, and you know it,” cried Stephanie. “If I blame anyone, it’s Nigel for influencing us into allowing outsiders to help. What do we really know about...
?
”
“That’s enough, Stephanie,” said Mr. Kilpatrick sternly. “You know we had Miss Saunders well checked out before she came here, and the report was excellent. Her family is beyond question.”
Merry’s face had gone very pale. So these people had actually had her investigated? Sudden distaste for everything to do with Kilpatricks filled her, and she wanted to leave the house right away, and never come back. Benjamin had been so right. She should never have taken anything to do with checking their stock, only she had been too stupid to see where the danger lay. If only he had been here, his very presence would have been a source of strength to her, but now there was only Sylvia, and even she felt suddenly dear to her, part of something familiar instead of this strange frightening world into which she was peeping.
“Sylvia, my dear, you came off the floor
wearing the ring?” Nigel was asking quietly, and she nodded, her eyes enormous.