Amy Patricia Meade - Marjorie McClelland 02 - Ghost of a Chance (20 page)

Martha left the room, pink faced and giggling.

“Creighton has always had a way with the ladies,” Vanessa commented. “I swear, since he’s been here, I can’t get Martha to listen to
a word I say. I have to pass all my instructions through him. It was
always that way-even when we were young. You always charmed
the socks off of my nurses and tutors, Creighton. And then when I
told them about how you teased me so, they just wouldn’t believe
a word I said. I must say, I was shocked when you came here and
told me you weren’t married. I thought surely someone would have
captured your heart by now-or at the very least, you would have
captured theirs.” Her blue eyes twinkled as she cast a brief glance in
Marjorie’s direction.

“Vanessa, dear, you know I’ve been waiting for the right woman,”
Creighton replied sweetly, although his face belied his true feelings.

Marjorie could look at neither of them as she felt her heart sink.
She stared into her martini glass and wondered what she was doing
here. She had hoped this evening would be fun. So far, however, it
was turning out to be anything but.

“Enough small talk. Let’s make a toast,” Mrs. Randolph declared
as she raised a glass triumphantly. “To love. The one thing in the
world worth living for, worth fighting for, and worth dying for.”

The foursome clinked glasses as Jameson replied with a resounding, “Hear, hear.” They sealed the toast with a drink.

“Creighton, darling, why don’t you show Detective Jameson the
billiard room?“Vanessa suggested. “I’m sure he’d like to unwind and
take off his tie after a hard day at work. And I’m dying for the opportunity to discuss Marjorie’s books with her-if she’s willing to
indulge me.”

The young blonde smiled. “I love discussing my books. I seldom get the opportunity.”

“There you are, gentlemen,” Vanessa stated. “I’ll have Martha
refresh your drinks. She’ll call you when dinner is ready. I do hope
you have no aversion to fish, Detective Jameson. We’re having sole
meuniere, followed by lobster thermidor, and for dessert, coffee,
brandy, and an authentic Key lime pie.” She turned to Marjorie.
“It arrived from Florida this morning, along with some orchids I
had flown in from our ranch in Argentina. I can’t travel there any
more, but I just love having fresh orchids on my table.”

“That sounds fine, Mrs. Randolph,” Jameson assured. “I’m Boston born and bred. Most of what I ate as a kid on came from the sea-nothing as fancy as what we’re having tonight, but fish nonetheless. Except for brown bread and beans, although I’m sure you’ve
never had to eat those.” He smiled graciously. “It’s awfully nice of
you to do this for us, Mrs. Randolph. I know I speak for Marjorie
when I say that we truly appreciate all you’ve done for us.”

Vanessa waved a hand. “It’s my pleasure. I enjoy having people
around me. It’s been such a long time since I’ve entertained. Stewart-my husband-and I used to have parties all the time, but since
he passed, well, nothing is quite the same. But you men pay no mind.
You go to the billiard room and enjoy yourselves while Marjorie and
I talk about `girl things, including the wedding plans. I just adore
weddings! But I’m sure you gentlemen would be bored to tears, so
hurry along.”

Jameson went on to the billiard room, chatting animatedly, while
Creighton lingered just long enough to give Vanessa a stern look and
silently mouth the word, “No”

Out of the corner of her eye, Marjorie witnessed this warning
and assumed that Vanessa had been sworn to secrecy about the
possibility of her own wedding plans. Once the men were out of
earshot, she said, “You miss your husband very much, don’t you?”

Vanessa drank the rest of her martini in one gulp and rang Martha to bring more. “Yes, I do. He was-well, he was everything to
me. He understood me as no one else did. He could be cantankerous
and short-tempered, but that’s only because he didn’t suffer fools
gladly. To me, however, he was the sun, the moon, and everything in
between. He could drive me crazy as no one else could, but he could
also make me happier than anyone else could. But, you’re engaged
to be married,” Vanessa added. “You know what I mean.”

Marjorie paused a long while, during which she polished off
her martini. “Yes, I do know what you mean. He finishes my statements, completes my thoughts, and knows me better than I do
myself. He’s in love with me.” Realizing that her words described
Creighton better than they did Robert, she added, “Whether or not
I always realize it.”

Martha arrived with a large cocktail shaker and proceeded to
fill the women’s glasses. Vanessa instructed her to leave the shaker.
“We’re discussing `girl’ things, Martha. And so very often, `girl’ things
require the assistance of liquid courage. Women are the strong ones
in life, don’t you think, Miss McClelland? Men rule the world, but it’s
women who are left to pick up the pieces-lost sons, lost husbands,
lost lives. As little girls, we dream of someone who will sweep us off
our feet. We grow up and swear off love and marriage. Then we meet
`him’ We fall in love, we marry. Wars come, wars go. The men we love
disappear, and yet we remain. It doesn’t seem fair does it?” Vanessa’s
blue eyes focused on the figure of the young maid standing before
her. “Martha?”

“Yes ma’am?” she replied obediently.

“Are you to see your friend, Tom, this evening?”

Martha blushed. “Yes, ma’am, we’re going to the pictures.”

Vanessa smiled radiantly. “Good. I made sure cook made a little extra of the sole and lobster. She can have some for supper, and
you and Tom have the rest for a quiet dinner before you leave, or
when you get back-I don’t care. Cook can leave it in the oven for
you and it will keep that way for quite a while before it’s overdone.”
Mrs. Randolph took a sip of martini. “I could be wrong, Martha,
but that Tom seems to be wild over you. I should start looking for another maid, because heaven knows the boy could pop the question at any moment!”

The maid tee-heed at the image of her `Tom’ proposing. “Oh,
Mrs. Randolph. You are the limit! Truth be told, I’d be lost without
you and Randolph House, but if Tom were to ask…”

“And that’s the way it should be,” Vanessa proclaimed. “Now run
along and get the `boys’ their drinks and then get ready for your
date.”

“But, I-I thought I’d be serving.”

“Not tonight. I’ll instruct cook to bring everything out to the
table and I shall serve my guests. You get ready for your young
man, and put on your best dress,” Vanessa giggled like a schoolgirl.
“I’m willing to wager that tonight is the night!”

Martha ran out of the room like a chicken without a head. “Yes
ma’am! Thank you, ma’am!”

When the maid had left the room, Vanessa sighed. “Ah, young
love! But enough of Martha. I want to hear about your writing.
What books do you have in the works?”

“I’m working on an account of the Van Allen case.”

“Oh Yes,” Vanessa responded. “I read about that in the papers a
couple of months ago. You were nearly killed, weren’t you?”

“So I’m told,” Marjorie replied humbly.

“Is it true that when someone dies, their life passes before them?”

Marjorie reenacted the scene in Kensington House in her mind.
“I can’t say for certain, but I know I saw my father, and the house
where I spent most of my childhood,” she said, and then recalled
the feeling she experienced upon seeing the cerulean blue sky. That
blue, she thought, was it not unlike something she had seen before? That blue was what had given her the strength to survive. But what
did it mean?

“I’d like to think that Stewart saw something similar before he
died. I’d like to think he saw my face and knew how much I loved
him.”

Marjorie’s eyes glazed over. “I’m certain he did, Vanessa. If not
at the moment he died, then shortly afterward. In fact, I’m sure
he’s with you every day, watching you. Loving you”

Vanessa gazed upon her guest. “You’re a good person, Marjorie. One can sense that the moment they meet you. It’s no wonder
Creighton loves you so.”

“You mean Robert. `It’s no wonder Robert loves me so,”’ she
corrected.

Her hostess was unmoved. “I meant what I said.”

Marjorie’s eyes glazed over. “Oh Vanessa! You’re mistaken. Why,
he hasn’t known me long enough to love me. I’m a passing fancy,
but you-it’s obvious he’s cared about you all his life.”

“Exactly. He’s cared about me. It’s you he’s in love with. Haven’t
you wondered why he’s been keeping his distance from you and
Robert? Because it’s tearing him apart to see you together. Creighton wouldn’t do anything to compromise your marriage to Robert,
if that marriage is what you really want. But if Creighton stands a
chance, you owe it to him, and yourself, to tell him.”

Marjorie was about to answer when Martha reappeared. “Dinner is ready, ma’am. I already called the gentlemen. I told them to
meet you ladies in the dining room.”

Vanessa wheeled herself out of the living room, leaving Marjorie to ponder her predicament alone.

Dinner was superb. Marjorie, her appetite whetted by both the alcohol and Vanessa’s revelations, cleaned both her plates-first of
the sole and then of the lobster. Vanessa rang for the cook to clear
the dishes and then asked Jameson to escort her into the library.
“Now, Robert, I want to hear about your juiciest cases and I do
hope you don’t edit out the good parts. Creighton,” she summoned
the Englishman. “Marjorie was very interested in the history of this
neighborhood. Why don’t you take her for a walk down Willow
Street and then go to the Old Meeting House? Being from Boston,
I’m sure Detective Jameson has already had the pleasure, but Marjorie, I’m sure, will find it quite lovely, especially at this time of the
evening.”

“Vanessa,” Creighton argued, “Marjorie’s had a long day. I’m
sure she just wants to relax.”

“Nonsense. She may say that now, but she won’t later. Oh, be a
good sport, Marjorie-you won’t be sorry.”

Marjorie grinned awkwardly. What a terrible position Vanessa
had put her in! Not wanting to arouse Robert’s suspicion she agreed.
“Of course not. No one can accuse me of being a spoil sport.”

“That’s a girl!” Vanessa cheered. “Take your time and when you
get back, we’ll have coffee and dessert. How does that sound to you,
Detective?”

Jameson was his usual cheerful self. “After that meal you gave
us? How can I refuse?”

Vanessa smiled at Creighton and Marjorie. “See? The Detective
doesn’t mind. You kids take your time and have fun. And, remember,” she added jokingly, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Creighton and Marjorie walked across Louisburg Square, the summer sun lying low in the sky, bathing the world in its golden glow.
The breeze, which had been warm earlier in the day, now held a
bit of a chill. Marjorie shivered as it blew across her bare arms and
watched as lovers, oblivious to the weather, strolled hand in hand,
stopping only to exchange a few fleeting kisses.

Creighton removed his suit jacket and gallantly draped it over
Marjorie’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Wouldn’t want you catching cold.
Not with a wedding in the works. Speaking of which, how are the
wedding plans coming along?”

“We haven’t made any plans yet. What with the Nussbaum case,
we’ve been too busy to discuss anything that’s not related to the
investigation.”

“Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t dilly dally,” he warned. “Jameson’s keen on the whole marriage thing-you’d better strike while
the iron is hot. You wouldn’t want him changing his mind. After
all, this is what you’ve been dreaming of since you first met him,
isn’t it?”

“I don’t know about that. I liked Robert from the moment I met
him, but I didn’t know him well enough to think of marriage.”

“Women are always thinking of marriage, whether or not they
care to admit it,” Creighton asserted.

“If I were always thinking of marriage,” Marjorie pointed out,
“then Mr. Schutt would have no reason to call me a spinster.”