As I made my way across the hall I was struck by the difference to how it had appeared earlier. Now there were uniformed staff crisscrossing the highly polished floor, efficient but unhurried. Some of them smiled respectfully as I passed, others just carried on with their business. I could hear voices and the sound of a piano as I approached the drawing room. The door was slightly ajar. I tentatively pushed the door open further and tried to sneak into the room unnoticed.516Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqGXe6nuJaM
I had to admit, the room was pretty breathtaking. The wall opposite the door was composed of floor-to-ceiling glass with sliding doors that opened out onto a pretty wooden terrace. Beyond that was a neat and well-established rose garden. The walls of the room were papered in a pale lilac with an embossed, crisp white border. The ceiling was high with a grand chandelier hanging from the center. The furniture was eclectic but somehow it went together. There were dark, green leather armchairs with heavily padded arms and neck-rests, dainty wooden chairs with turned out feet and embroidered cushions depicting scenes from the orient, a few cream and gold chaise-longs with silk throws in light pink and silver, masculine card tables with lacquered tops and, to top it all off, a white grand piano adjacent to the glass doors, its shiny surface scattered with music books and a pretty young, woman sat on the stool, her fingers dancing lightly over the keys.516Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdHQAsEMW5y
I had hoped to slip into the room unseen but unfortunately as I entered almost all eyes turned to me. I stood awkwardly by the door whilst the young woman finished her piece on the piano. Once she had everyone in the room politely applauded. I joined in, glad to have something to do. I spied Mrs McClaire sat on one of the chairs. She stood up, still clapping quietly, and made her way over to me.
“Everyone,” she announced loudly, with no particular warmth, “This is Miss Whitmore. She will be joining us this afternoon.”
“Oh how lovely,” said the woman at the piano. She stood up, her mustard coloured, high-waisted dress hanging effortless from her slender frame. She had a sweet, heart shaped face, sharply defined features and deep blue eyes. A young gentleman joined her at the piano and escorted her on his arm to a chaise-lounge and sat down next to her.516Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGJnvd3hJIv
“Tell me, are you with the New York Whitmores?” asked an elderly gentleman with thin, grey hair, a thick mustache and a cane.516Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBMMOtiGHjZ
“Yes, I’m a cousin.” I was getting good at this.
“Allow me to introduce you to the family,” Mrs McClaire said. “My daughter, Miss Marribelle McClaire.” The young woman who had been playing the piano smiled across at me. “Her fiancé Lionel…” The man sat next to her nodded in my direction. “My son, Charlie McClaire,” Another young man who had until now been leaning casually against the wall, a glass in his hand, straightened up and offered out his hand. I shook it whilst looking up into his, no denying it, very handsome face. He had pale blonde hair-smoothly combed back-warm brown eyes with thick eyelashes, and a perfectly tanned face.
“Miss Whitmore.” He was very softly spoken accent. His hand was warm and strong.
“And my husband, Sir Robert McClaire.” A middle-aged man across the room whose head was currently buried in a newspaper looked up briefly before disappearing behind the pages again.
“Good to meet you,” he muttered.
“I’m sure you’ll become acquainted with the rest of the party soon enough.” There were at least a dozen more people in the room so that thought did not fill me with joy.
“Aren’t you forgetting somebody?”
A voice from behind me made everyone turn their attention to the door. Salem was stood there, hat and blazer gone, replaced by a more sombre jacket in dark blue with red piping on the lapels.
“Salem!” Marribelle leapt up from the chaise-lounge and rushed forward and embraced Salem in a hug. He laughed and hugged her back.
“My dear sister, how are you?” He held her at arms length, examining her with a critical eye, “Ah, the most beautiful bride the world has seen!”
Marribelle twirled around a few times, giggling.
“We’ve missed you Salem-I’m so glad you could make it for the wedding.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Salem came further into the room. “Mother, Father…Miss Whitmore.” He gave me a slow smile as he came into the room. “Lionel, good to see you again.” The two men shook hands and exchanged a few pleasantries.
“Gosh, is that the time? Marribelle, we must leave for your fitting now. Everyone, if you will excuse us, wedding duties call.” There was chorus of goodbyes as Marribelle and Mrs McClaire left the drawing room. The other assembled guests gathered together in small groups, some making their way back out into the garden, some remaining in the drawing room. I was feeling at a loss for what I should do when I felt a light touch on my shoulder.
“Miss Whitmore, would you care to join me for a turn around the gardens? They are lovely this time of year.”
Salem was smiling down at me, his eyes shining with a warmth that I had not seen before. As I really had no other options, I thought I should just accept. It may at the very least, help me figure out a little more about Salem.
“Thank you, that would be very nice.”
He offered me his arm and then guided me towards the glass doors. The air was warm and sweet with the sound of gently rustling branches and hedgerows. We walked along a narrow gravel path, just large enough for two people standing side by side, our feet crunching along the stones. The path led through two rows of low box-hedges, each one manicured into the same perfect square shape. Ahead of us was a tall stone fountain, carved into the shape of a woman with long flowing hair pouring a jug of water into the wide, shallow bowl below. The sound of the water was soothing. As we approached the fountain everyone else who had left the drawing room carried on towards the rose garden, however Salem gently led us onto another path heading to the left. There was no one else here, and within seconds the voices of the others guests had disappeared completely. I glanced over my shoulder nervously. As if sensing my discomfort, Salem said,
“I thought you might enjoy seeing the folly. It’s at the other end of the gardens.”
“Thank you, that sounds lovely.” I figured now was as good a time as any to start probing Salem for some information. “If you don’t mind my asking-how come you are American and your family is English?”
He gave a small laugh.
“I don’t mind at all, although I’m surprised you don’t know, being so close to Bertie and Ruth Whitmore,” he raised an eyebrow at me before continuing, “Agnes is actually my step-mother. My father moved out to America when he was a young-man during the railroad era-made a significant amount of money. He married my mother, who was American, and they had me. Sadly, she died when I was very young, I don’t remember much about her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, I…lost my mother too.” I blinked away the tears that were forming.
“I wish I could say that it’s still painful, but I like I said, I was very young and my father married again when I was eight, to Agnes, so she’s been like a mother to me really. Her children, Charlie and Marribelle, are from her first marriage. We never really spent much time together as children, I was at boarding school in the States and Charlie was over here at Rugby. Marribelle was at home until she went to finishing school last year, so we only every really saw each other at holidays.”
“That’s sad. Did you miss each other?’
“Marribelle-yes. She’s a sweet thing and we’ve always gotten along well. She thinks of me as a brother, and I think of her as a sister.”
“What about Charlie?”
I saw a dark shadow pass over Salem’s face. He looked off into the distance, his voice guarded.
“Things have always been-difficult-between me and Charlie.” I waited for him to say something else but when he didn’t I asked,
“What do you mean by difficult?”
Salem gave a low sigh, his eyes sad.
“Charlie and I are almost the same age, he was just a year older than me when our parents married, but he never really accepted me. His mother comes from a very well-respected family in England, lots of money and connections, you know how it is,”
I nodded, not really knowing how it was at all.
“I don’t think he appreciated her marrying some ex-pat, from a now defunct Scottish family whose only claim to respectability came from money speculated in railways and a house in the middle of nowhere,” he jerked his head in the direction of the manor. “The family only began living here a few years ago when my grandfather died and the house passed on to my father. Before that, they were mostly based in London.”516Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiotTHM3IEU
“Is that the only reason you two don’t get along-he doesn’t like your father?”
“He doesn’t like the idea of my father,” Salem clarified. “They get along fine now, on a day-to-day basis. You would never know to look at them that anything was amiss. It’s the money, really, that’s the issue.”
“Money?”
“Yes,” Salem took a deep breath, seemingly steadying himself internally. “My father does not have much of it. The McClaire family had its fair share of drinkers, gamblers and speculators, so the family money is pretty much non-existent anymore. My step-mother on the other hand has plenty of money. Lots in fact. She receives a very generous allowance from her parents each year and, as she is an only child, she will inherit everything one day.”
“Why is that a problem?”
“One of the stipulations of the will is that all the McClaire children are treated equally. All three of us. That means we each inherit £10,000 on the death of our grandparents. When our parents die, everything will be divided equally between myself and Charlie, with Marribelle receiving an allowance each year.”
“Why should that bother Charlie?”
“Charlie believes that only he and Marribelle should inherit anything from his mother’s family. He thinks of me as an interloper-someone who has snuck in through the backdoor without an invitation, ready to destroy the party.” Salem’s voice was laced with bitterness.516Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡynnoh1OTJb
“That’s awful. Surely its up to your grandparents who will inherit anything?”
“That’s what I think too. Personally, the whole situation is ridiculous. I’m not even interested in inheriting anything. I have my own income from my business and am happy whiling away my days between London and New York. Don’t get me wrong, a little something would always be helpful, but the way Charlie talks, you would think all I cared about was money. His money as he sees it.” Salem gave a tight laugh, his next words sending a cold chill over me. “Sometimes I think Charlie would rather I just disappeared one day, never to be seen again, so he could inherit everything!”516Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoRmAW2Yrgq
