The Shadow Queen (23 page)

W
in’s initial meeting with Sol took place—at Sol’s request—in his office at the Continental Trust Bank on the corner of Baltimore Street and Calvert Street.

Win already knew that Solomon Warfield was the president of the bank. Though he said nothing as they walked through the marble-floored foyer, Wallis knew he was deeply impressed.

Her uncle’s office was even more opulent than the foyer, but Win, broad shouldered, ramrod straight, and in full naval uniform, looked splendidly at ease in it. It was Wallis who was nervous.

As Sol rose from behind his massive Biedermeier desk and rounded it to meet them, her voice was unsteady as she said, “Uncle Sol, may I introduce to you Lieutenant Earl Winfield Spencer? Win, my uncle, Mr. Solomon Warfield.”

Sol and Win shook hands, Win unflinchingly holding Sol’s piercing gaze.

It was Sol, not Win, who looked away first.

That her uncle was unused to people not being intimidated by him was obvious to Wallis, if not to Win.

“I understand you serve under Commander Henry Mustin, a relative of Wallis’s mother’s family, Lieutenant Spencer?” Sol said, impressed by the magnetic forcefulness of Win’s personality.

“I have that honor, sir. Commander Mustin has, as you are probably aware, set many personal naval air records, and it would be impossible to serve under a more respected or gifted man.”

“I’m pleased to hear that, Lieutenant. Won’t the two of you please take seats?”

As they did so, he retreated to the far side of his desk and sat down, leaning back in his dark green, leather-padded office chair as if about to embark on a lengthy interrogation.

To Wallis’s vast relief, no lengthy interrogation followed.

Sol merely asked the provenance of Win’s family, showing satisfaction when he learned that it was both old and respectable.

He wound up the meeting by saying gruffly, “As Wallis’s late father’s eldest brother, I would like to do as he undoubtedly would have, Lieutenant Spencer, and invite you to dine at the family home on Preston Street.”

“It is an invitation I am most happy to accept, sir.”

Unspoken, but accepted by all three of them, was that the invitation—and the acceptance of it—was the prelude to a public announcement of an engagement.

As they left the building, Wallis wondered if Win would propose to her while they were in Baltimore, or would he wait another few weeks until it was her birthday? A sparkling diamond engagement ring would be the best birthday present ever.

N
either Bessie nor Alice was invited to the intimate dinner that took place a few days later. Wanting to keep in Solomon Warfield’s good books, Win, exerting all his willpower, drank sparingly: a predinner dry sherry, a couple of glasses of wine with the meal, and a companionable whiskey and soda with Sol when all three had retired to the drawing room.

It all went so smoothly that Wallis wanted to punch the air with glee. Next day, however, she was brought down to earth with a nerve-racking bump when she received a message from her uncle, saying he would like to meet with her alone on East Preston Street before she and Lieutenant Spencer returned to Pensacola.

“It will be about my allowance,” she said to Win. “Uncle Sol often increases it about this time of year, and when he does, he always likes to have a little time with me on my own.”

It was a blatant lie, but one Win accepted unquestioningly.

This time when she entered the Preston Street house, Wallis had to steel herself to do so. Since her grandmother’s death the house no longer felt like a family home of any kind to her—and she was dreading hearing the reason her uncle had summoned her.

He received her in the drawing room, dressed for his office at the bank in a two-button frock coat, his top hat on a chair nearby.

“Please be seated, Wallis,” he said, making no move to sit down himself.

Wallis did as asked, clasping her hands tightly together in her lap to calm her nerves.

“Lieutenant Spencer,” Sol said without preamble. “I take it you are expecting a proposal of marriage from him?”

Wallis’s throat felt too tight to speak, so she nodded.

“When he does so, I take it that you intend to accept?”

Again Wallis nodded.

Something changed in her uncle’s stiff, abrupt manner. To Wallis’s surprise he crossed the room to sit down beside her and, to her even greater surprise, unclasped her hands, taking one of them in his.

“Teackle was my favorite brother, and, that being the case, I am fonder of you than you may imagine, Wallis. When it comes to a proposed marriage between you and Lieutenant Spencer, I feel I must point out certain things to you.”

Wallis sucked in a deep, steadying breath.

“The first is that it would not be the kind of marriage I had anticipated for you. You are a Warfield of Baltimore. I had hoped you would marry into a prestigious Baltimore family. The second is that I don’t think you have quite taken on board just what it means to be the wife of a naval officer. Lieutenant Spencer can be posted anywhere at any time. Where you live will be up to the Navy. It will not be something you—or Lieutenant Spencer—will be able to make a choice about. Thirdly, on your marriage my allowance to you will cease, and naval pay is notoriously low. For all these reasons, when Lieutenant Spencer makes his proposal—which from his manner at dinner yesterday evening I would judge to be very soon—I want you to think very carefully before accepting it.”

Slowly, and with great relief, Wallis let out her breath. The interview hadn’t been as bad as she had feared. She certainly didn’t want a member of Baltimore’s high society as a husband—not when John Jasper and Pamela would most likely be moving back to Baltimore as soon as the war was over and the Atlantic again safe. Nor did she mind the thought of being moved at a moment’s notice from one naval station to another. She had always made friends easily, and she liked variety in her life. Win might even be posted abroad, and, as far as she was concerned, that would be even better.

What wouldn’t be better was her uncle’s intention to stop her allowance, but she wasn’t going to let that prospect deter her from marrying Win. Naval pay couldn’t possibly be as low as her uncle seemed to think. Win always had plenty of money, and he was Pensacola’s senior instructor. One day he would no doubt be a distinguished naval commander, like Henry.

“Thank you Uncle Sol, for being so concerned about my welfare,” she said, giving him her very best smile as she rose to feet. “I appreciate all you have said, and I promise I will bear it all in mind when—and if—Win proposes.”

Her last sentence was a lie as blatant as the one she had told Win earlier. She hadn’t the slightest intention of bearing anything he had said in mind—nor did she think there was going to be any “if” about Win proposing to her.

Her instincts proved her right.

A month after they returned to the air station, they enjoyed one of their regular dates at the movies. Before the lights were down, Win suddenly said he’d changed his mind about wanting to see the movie, and that he wanted to go to the country club instead.

Whatever Win wanted was fine by Wallis, but when they reached the country club he made no effort to enter it. The darkened porch was deserted, and he sat her down on one of its many cane chairs.

Then he did what she had been praying he would do almost from the first moment she had met him.

He went down on one knee in front of her.

“I love you, Wallis,” he said thickly. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before—and I don’t expect I ever shall. I never thought I’d say this to anyone, but will you marry me, Wallis? You do love me enough to marry me, don’t you?”

The tears of joy that filled her eyes were his answer.

The next second she was in his arms, and his mouth was on hers, hard and passionate and urgent.

When at last he raised his head from hers, he said, “We need to set a wedding date soon, Wallis. I can’t stand not having you for much longer. It’s driving me mad.”

“We have to get engaged first,” she said lovingly. “And even an engagement needs time to be arranged beforehand.”

He looked down at her in dismay. “You mean we can’t just announce our engagement tomorrow?”

“Of course we can’t!” There was happy amusement in her voice. “Notices announcing it have to be put in the Baltimore papers. A grand party has to be arranged. Everything has to be done very properly and correctly.”

“Goddamn it!” There was despair, not anger, in his voice. “Then what kinda time scale are we running to, Wallis?”

Wallis did some quick calculations. Desperate as she was to marry Win, she didn’t want any Baltimore gossip about the engagement and wedding being such a rush job that it indicated a baby was on the way.

“It’s July now. We could have our engagement in September and the wedding in November. That’s not too long to wait, darling. Is it?”

From the intimate pressure of his body against hers, it was obvious that even a few minutes was going to be too long to wait—and they were on the darkened porch of the country club, not in the dark of the movie theater.

She slid one of her arms from around his neck and, with her palm pressed close against his chest, ran it slowly and seductively downward.

And then farther downward.

There were always ways of managing things when a girl was adventurous—as she was.

As Win gave a gasp, followed by a deep groan, she wondered what style of wedding gown to have. Marrying in November meant it would be a winter wedding. Perhaps white velvet? And perhaps, to turn winter into an asset, they could marry late in the day when it was dark and the church would be lit only by candles.

It would be the kind of wedding that would ensure she would once again be known for being different; the kind of wedding that no one attending it would ever forget.

Chapter Fourteen

But where
,

Alice wrote to her,

is the money going to come from for your trousseau and wedding gown and wedding breakfast? I’m poor as a church mouse and Bessie hasn’t any money to spare
.

I’m going to speak with Uncle Sol
,

Wallis wrote back in the distinctive green ink she had begun to favor.

He didn’t give me a debutante ball. The least he can do is put his hand in his pocket for my wedding
.

Alice’s response was terse.

I wouldn’t count on it, sweetheart
.

Wallis
was
counting on it and, for the moment, wasn’t worrying about it. Over the years she had learned how to manage her Uncle Sol in ways her mother—perhaps because of Sol’s feelings for her, and her antipathy toward him—had never succeeded in doing. As far as Wallis was concerned, Solomon Warfield would pay for her wedding—and it would be a Baltimore extravaganza.

Of more immediate concern was her trip to Highland Park, a wealthy suburb of Chicago where the Spencer family lived. Arrangements were made that, in order for there to be no gossip, she would not stay at the Spencer home but would stay in Chicago itself as a guest of friends of her Aunt Bessie’s.

Once again she and Win found themselves seated on a train, hand in hand and traveling north, this time not to Maryland, but to Illinois.

“Your family, Win,” she asked, overcome by nervous tension. “Will I like them? Will they like me?”

A little too late it was occurring to her that as Win never spoke about his family, she knew next to nothing about them.

“Sure they’ll like you, Wallis. You’re a Warfield from Baltimore. How could they not?”

It had never previously occurred to Wallis that the Warfield name was known and respected in Chicago, but then she remembered that one of the few things Win had told her about his father was that he was a member of the Chicago Stock Exchange. Her Uncle Sol’s financial business dealings were vast and, taking into account his position as president of the Continental Trust Bank, it wasn’t too surprising that the Spencers were aware of the Warfield family’s standing within Baltimore society.

She breathed a little sigh of relief and then was overcome by anxiety again. “But will I like them, Win? They won’t find me too breezy and forward, will they?”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Hell, no. Your breeziness and forwardness is just what my family needs to liven them up.”

In a way she found his answer reassuring, but it was also disquieting. What sort of family were the Spencers that they needed livening up?

She soon found out.

It took only one evening meal with them for her to realize that Win’s family were like no family she had ever previously met—or ever wanted to meet—and that it was no wonder Win spoke about them so little.

Though they went through the formal motions of welcoming her, there was little warmth in the welcome—and that also applied to the welcome Win received. If he was aware of the rather odd reaction to his home visit, Win showed no signs of it. Unlike his parents and his siblings, he was cheery and talkative, making it quite clear that the visit was one preparatory to the announcement of an engagement between himself and Wallis.