No Greater Love Part 15

"I figured out that much," Edwina said, tears of relief choking her. "But why? Why on earth would you do something like this, Alexis?" It made Edwina want to ask herself where she had gone wrong. "Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't. Not really. I hardly talked to him at the wedding. I just danced with him once and agreed to meet him for lunch."

"So where are you?" It had certainly been the longest lunch in her life, and by now Edwina had no illusions about what had happened. After five days, even Edwina knew what must have transpired.

"I'm in New York," Alexis answered nervously, as Edwina gasped, and then shook her head, wondering if she could contact George, but she hated to bother him now on his honeymoon, and there was very little that could be done. More than anything, Edwina wanted to hush it up. She was planning to tell Sam that she had found her, and maybe even swear the other children to secrecy, and never tell George at all. The fewer people who knew about this, the better it would be for Alexis, and that was all she could think of now.

"Where are you in New York? What hotel?" Her mind was racing.

"At the Illinois Hotel," Alexis answered, and she gave Edwina an address far up on the West Side. This was certainly not the Plaza or the Ritz-Carlton, but Malcolm Stone was not that kind of man. "And Edwina ..." Her voice broke, she knew it would break Edwina's heart, but she wanted to tell her. "I'm married."

"What?" Edwina almost leapt into the phone. "You are?"

"Yes, we got married before we got on the train." She didn't tell her that she had been drunk and had no recollection of it, it seemed enough just to say she was.

"Are you coming back now?" Edwina had every intention of getting it annulled, and seeing to it that Alexis came to her senses, but first she had to get her home before she could do that.

"I don't know ..." She sounded tearful. "Malcolm says he wants to try out for a play in New York."

"Oh, for G.o.d's sake. Look ..." She closed her eyes for a moment and made some rapid calculations. "Stay where you are, I'm coming to get you."

"Are you going to tell George?" At least she had the grace to sound embarra.s.sed, Edwina was relieved to hear.

"No, I'm not. I'm not going to tell anyone, and neither are you, and neither is Malcolm. The fewer people who ever know about this, the better. I'm bringing you home with me, and that will be the end of this nonsense. We'll have the marriage annulled, and that will be the end of it." And she just prayed that, as George had put it several months earlier, there would be no "brat" as a gift from Malcolm. "I'll be in New York in five days to get you."

But suddenly, after they'd hung up, Alexis was sorry she had called her. Malcolm was suddenly nice to her again, and this time when he made love to her, she liked it, and she didn't want to go back to California, she wanted to stay in New York, with him. The hotel where they were staying was dark and dingy, and there were things about being with him that she didn't like. And she didn't like the way he'd tricked her into leaving California, but now that she was here with him, there were moments when she thought she was in love. And he was very good-looking, of course, although he drank too much and when he did, his hands were rough, but he was sweet to her too, and he treated her like a baby, and it made her feel very grown up when he introduced her as his wife. By the next day, she was absolutely sure of it, she was sorry she had told Edwina to come, or even where she was. But when she called and tried to tell her not to come, Fannie told her that Edwina had already left for New York.

"Why did you do it, Lexie?" Fannie wailed into the phone, as Alexis felt Malcolm's hand slide up her thigh and she trembled.

"We're going to be in movies together," Alexis explained, as though that changed everything. "And I wanted to be Malcolm's wife." Fannie gasped with horror. Edwina hadn't told her that Alexis had married Malcolm. All she knew was that Lexie was in New York.

"What? You got married?" Fannie almost jumped through the phone as Teddy listened with interest. Edwina hadn't told them that, and then suddenly Alexis remembered that she wasn't supposed to tell.

"Well, sort of." But if she did tell, then Edwina couldn't annul it, or could she? It was all very confusing now, and Alexis was sorry she had called at all. And when she hung up, she told Malcolm that she was sorry she had called Edwina, and he was in a bad mood anyway, because there seemed to be no work for him in New York at any of the theaters.

"I have an idea," he announced, pulling her down on the bed next to him, and slipping her blouse off. He had bought her some cheap clothes outside the station in Chicago, but to Alexis it was all exciting now. It was like playing a part in a picture.

They made love again, and afterward he left her at the hotel for a long time, and that night he came back with two tickets. And he was very drunk. Alexis had been frantic without him, but he promised her that the next day everything would be alright. They were going to London, he explained, and he was going to act in a play there, on the stage, and then after that, they would go back to California. And by then, it would be too late for her sister to do anything. With luck, as he saw it, by then Alexis might be pregnant. And even if she wasn't, the scandal would have gone on long enough that they wouldn't dare do anything, and he would spend the rest of his life in style, living off George Winfield.

Chapter 33.

BEFORE EDWINA LEFT CALIFORNIA, SHE HAD CALLED AND rea.s.sured Sam that everything was fine. It had all been a big misunderstanding, she said, and Alexis had been upset about something Edwina had said, and she had gone back to San Francisco on the train alone. Supposedly, according to Edwina, they had found her there, penitent about all the trouble she'd caused, and perfectly fine. It was all a lot of excitement about nothing.

"And Malcolm Stone?" he asked suspiciously. He wasn't sure he believed her.

"Nowhere in sight," Edwina said convincingly, and thanked him for all his kindness. And then she had made arrangements to leave Fannie and Teddy with the housekeeper while she was gone, and the next morning she had left for New York to bring back Alexis.

She had sworn everyone to secrecy, in case George should call, and she told them she would be back as soon as she could. But whatever they did, under no circ.u.mstances were they to say anything to George if he called them.

She took the train to New York, filled with dread and painful memories. The last time she had traveled in that direction had been more than eleven years before, with her parents and brothers and sisters and Charles on the way to board the Mauretania in New York. She had too much time to think as they traveled east, and by the time she reached the Illinois Hotel, she was overwrought. She had gone straight there from the station, expecting to find a distraught Alexis, and she was going to threaten Malcolm Stone with the law. Instead, she found a letter from them, in Alexis's childish hand, explaining that Malcolm wanted to be on the London stage, and Alexis had gone with him as a dutiful wife. She read between the lines to see that Alexis was completely besotted, so much so that she was willing to get on a s.h.i.+p with him, which Edwina knew was no small task. She wondered if he had any idea what he had gotten himself into. And if Alexis had said anything about having been on the ill-fated t.i.tanic eleven years before.

When Edwina left the Illinois she was in tears, wondering what to do next, whether to pursue them to London to bring her back, or if there was any point pursuing her at all. Maybe she really did want to be married to him, and maybe it was much too late now. What if they really were married, as Alexis said, or if she had gotten pregnant? Then what could Edwina do? She couldn't very well have the marriage annulled if Alexis was carrying his baby.

She was crying softly in the backseat of the cab when they reached the Ritz-Carlton, and she checked in and walked into a room that reminded her too much of the ones where she stayed the last time they were in New York. And she wished suddenly that there was someone to help her. But there was no one ... her parents and Phillip were gone,... George was married ... she scarcely knew Sam ... she didn't want to tell Ben how she'd failed ... there was no one to turn to, and she knew, as she lay in bed that night, that she had to make the decision herself. There was no choice really. She knew she couldn't get on a s.h.i.+p again, not after what had happened on the t.i.tanic, yet she couldn't let Alexis go on with him, without at least trying to bring her back. Alexis had called, after all, and she had told Edwina where she was. It had to mean that she wanted Edwina to save her.

Edwina thought about it all night and again all morning. She knew what s.h.i.+p they were on. And she could have wired, but in Alexis's besotted state, that wouldn't have brought her back. Edwina knew she had to do something, and soon, if anything was to be done at all And then, as though it was the only answer, she could see her mother's face in front of her, and knew what she would have done. She would have gone after Alexis. And that afternoon, Edwina booked her pa.s.sage on the Paris. Alexis had left three days earlier on the Bremen.

Chapter 34.

WHEN ALEXIS BOARDED THE BREMEN IN SECOND CLa.s.s SHE was quiet and pale, and Malcolm tried to bolster her spirits. He told her how much fun they would have, and a.s.sumed she had never been on a s.h.i.+p before. He ordered champagne, and kissed her frequently, and all he could think of was the life that they would lead one day, on more luxurious s.h.i.+ps, traveling in first cla.s.s. "Just think of it," he teased her, slipping a hand into her dress, but this time Alexis wasn't smiling.

She didn't say a word to him as they sailed, and when they went to their cabin and he stood close to her, he could feel her tremble.

"You don't get seasick, do you?" he asked, in high spirits with her. He could think of worse fates than having a young wife who was the sister of a major studio head, even if he had just spent the last of his money on their pa.s.sage. It was a dreary s.h.i.+p, but the Germans liked to laugh and drink, and if nothing else he could gamble a little bit, play cards with the men, and show off his "wife." But she was clinging to their bed as they slipped into the harbor, and by dinnertime that night she couldn't catch her breath. She lay there gasping and wild-eyed, and he ran for the steward in terror, and asked him to call a doctor at once. Alexis looked as though she were dying.

"Mein Herr?" the steward inquired, glancing into the room behind him. He had noticed the American's pretty bride. They were a handsome pair, but the husband looked old enough to be her father.

"My wife ... she isn't well ... we need a doctor, and fast!"

"Certainly," The steward smiled. "But may I bring her a cup of bouillon and some biscuits? It is the perfect answer for seasick, sir. She has never sailed before?" But as he spoke, she let out a terrible groan, as though of pain, and when Malcolm turned to look at her, he saw that she had fainted.

"The doctor, man, quick!" She looked as though she had died, and suddenly Malcolm was terrified. What if she did die? George Winfield would kill him, and he could forget Hollywood and Duesenbergs and anything else he'd had in mind with sweet little Alexis beside him.

The doctor came at once, and bluntly asked Malcolm if she was pregnant, and if there were signs of a miscarriage. He hadn't even thought of that and it seemed too soon, as she had been a virgin when they left California. He said he didn't know, before the doctor asked him to step outside, and he paced the halls, smoking, and wondering what had happened to make her faint, and look so ill before that.

It was a long time before the doctor came out, and frowned at him. He beckoned him to walk down the corridor, as Malcolm followed hesitantly. "Is she alright?"

"Yes. She will sleep for a long time. I have given her an injection." He ushered him to a small sitting area and sat down and looked at Malcolm. "It was important that you go to Europe?" The doctor seemed to be almost angry at him, and he didn't understand why.

"Yes, I ... I'm an actor ... I'm going to perform on the London stage." And like everything else in his life, it was a lie. He had no idea if he would find work there. But the handsome, fading blond lit another cigarette and smiled nervously at the German doctor.

"She has not told you, has she?" He stared at him, wondering suddenly if they were truly married. She was too young, too frightened, and she had been wearing expensive shoes. Somehow she didn't seem to belong with him, and he wondered if she was a runaway. But if so, the trip was much more than she had bargained for, and he was sorry for her, as he stared at Malcolm.

"Hasn't told me what?" Malcolm looked confused, and with good reason, "About the last time she went to Europe?" In sobbing tones, she had told the doctor, and confessed that she couldn't stay on the s.h.i.+p now. It was too terrible, and what if they sank? She was half crazed as she clung to him, and he had already decided to keep her sedated. And if the American agreed, he was going to put her in the s.h.i.+p's infirmary and keep her there under the vigil of his nurse until they reached England.

"I don't know anything about it." Malcolm looked annoyed.

"You don't know that she sailed on the t.i.tanic!" If they were married, she certainly had shared very little with her husband, but now he looked impressed.

"She couldn't have been more than a tiny child then." Malcolm looked doubtful.

"She was six, and she lost her parents, and her sister's fiance went down with them." Malcolm nodded to himself, thinking that that explained a lot about Edwina. He had never wondered either why there were no parents watching over her, but only George and the ever vigilant older sister. He had simply thought they were around somewhere. In truth, he had never really thought about it, and didn't care, and Alexis had never volunteered her story. And now the doctor went on, "She was separated from them that night, and she was taken off the s.h.i.+p against her will in the last lifeboat. She didn't find her family again until they were on the s.h.i.+p that rescued them. I believe it was the Carpathian." He frowned as he recalled. He had been the s.h.i.+p's surgeon on the Frankfurt then, and they had taken some of the t.i.tanic's last distress calls. "May I suggest," he said pointedly, "that we keep your wife sedated for the remainder of the trip. I'm afraid she will not be able to tolerate it otherwise, and she appears, well ... very fragile ..." Malcolm sighed as he sat back and listened to him. This was all he needed, a hysterical girl on a s.h.i.+p whose family had gone down on the t.i.tanic ... and how the h.e.l.l would he get her back to the States when they were ready to go back? Maybe it would have to be George's problem by then, or Edwina's, if she showed up, but now he knew that they wouldn't. He was safe from all of them, until he was ready to deal with them on his own terms. And by then, Alexis would be totally his, and they would have to deal with him. Forever.

"That's fine." Malcolm agreed to the doctor's plan. It even left him free to play a little, if he chose to.

"May I have your permission to move her, sir?"

"Of course." Malcolm smiled, saluted smartly, and went up to the bar, while the doctor, the nurse, and a stewardess removed the heavily sedated Alexis from Malcolm's cabin.

She slept the rest of the trip, waking only long enough for them to sedate her again. She remembered vaguely that she was on a s.h.i.+p, and more than once she screamed in the darkness for her mother. But her mother never came. There was only a woman in a white dress, speaking words she didn't understand, and she wondered if the s.h.i.+p had sunk, and she was in another place ... and maybe now she would find her mother at last ... or was it only Edwina?

Chapter 35.

EDWINA HAD A HARD TIME BOARDING THE s.h.i.+P TOO, AND there was no German doctor to keep her sedated. She boarded the Paris in first cla.s.s, with the small bag she had brought with her from California. She had no evening clothes with her at all, but she knew she wouldn't need any. Her only goal was to reach London and bring Alexis back. She had read her ridiculous letter, outlining their plans, and insisting that she was happy with Malcolm. But Edwina didn't care how happy she was. She was seventeen years old, and she was not going to let her run off with that rotter. It made her sorry now that she had ever taken her to Hollywood at all, or let her make so much as one movie. There weren't going to be any more movies now. There was going to be their quiet life in San Francisco, once she got rid of Malcolm Stone. And if she was very lucky, no one at home would ever know what had happened in New York or that they had even gone there. She was prepared to tell whatever lies she had to now, to protect her younger sister. And getting her back was the only thing that got Edwina on the s.h.i.+p, as her legs trembled beneath her.

She was shown to her cabin by a stewardess, and she closed her eyes and sank onto a chair, trying not to remember the last s.h.i.+p she'd been on, or who she had been with, and what had happened after they set sail.

"May I get you anything, madame?" The steward for her corridor was very attentive, and looking very pale, she shook her head with a wan smile. "Perhaps if madame went up on deck, she might feel a little better?" He was very solicitous and very French and she only smiled and shook her head, and thanked him.

"I'm afraid I don't really think so," And as they pulled out of New York Harbor a little while later, she found herself thinking of Helen and George on their honeymoon. She had told Fannie and Teddy once again when she called that if George called, they were not to tell him anything, except that everything was fine and she and Alexis were out. She knew that he would be busy with Helen anyway, and he wasn't likely to call very often. But the children knew where she was and that she had gone to London. But neither of them realized what a terrible strain it was for Edwina. Both of them had been so young when their parents died, that at two and four they had scarcely retained any memories of the t.i.tanic at all. But for Alexis on the Bremen it was close to unbearable, and for Edwina on the Paris, it was extremely painful as well.

She took dinner in her room the first night, and scarcely ate anything, as the steward observed with disappointment. He was having trouble understanding what ailed her. He had a.s.sumed she was seasick, but he wasn't entirely sure she was. She never left her cabin, she kept her curtains drawn, and whenever he brought her a tray, she looked dreadful and terribly pale. But she looked more like someone suffering from grief or a terrible trauma.

"Madame is sad today?" he asked with fatherly concern, as she smiled up at him from something she'd been writing. She had been writing a letter to Alexis about everything she thought of her wild flight and her outrageous affair with Malcolm. And she was planning to give it to her when she saw her. At least it kept her mind occupied while she tried not to think about where she was. She was a young woman, but a very serious one, he decided. And on the second day, the steward wondered if perhaps she was a writer. He urged her to go outside again then. It was a beautiful October day, the sun was high in the sky, and it broke his heart to see her so unhappy and pale. He wondered also if she was traveling to Europe to escape from a broken love affair. And finally, after he had nagged her again, when he brought her luncheon tray, she laughed and stood up, looking around the room she had hidden in for almost two days, and agreed to go up on deck for a walk. But she was shaking all over again as she put on her coat, and walked slowly up to the Promenade Deck.

She tried not to think about the similarities and differences as she walked slowly around the Promenade Deck of the Paris. There were lifeboats hanging everywhere, and she tried not to look at them as well, but if she looked beyond them, she was looking out to sea, and that was upsetting too. There was nowhere she could go to hide from her memories here, and although it had been so long ago, it was all too fresh, and all too difficult to hide from. There were moments when she had to remind herself that she wasn't on the t.i.tanic.

And as she walked back in from the Promenade Deck, she could hear the strains of music from the tea dance, and suddenly tears filled her eyes as she remembered dancing one afternoon with Charles, while her parents smiled as they stood by and watched them. She wanted to run from the memory now, and she started to hurry away without watching where she was going, and in a moment, as she wheeled away, she collided with a man and literally fell into his arms as she tried to escape the sound of the familiar music.

"Oh ... oh ..." She could hardly keep her balance as he reached out and caught her with a single powerful hand.

"I'm terribly sorry ... are you alright?" She looked up suddenly into the face of a tall, handsome blond man somewhere in his late thirties. He was beautifully dressed and impeccably tailored, in a hat, and a coat with a handsome beaver collar.

"I ... yes ... I'm sorry ..." She had knocked two books and a newspaper right out of his hands, and it was comforting, she thought suddenly, to see him carrying such ordinary pastimes. Sometimes just the thought of being on a s.h.i.+p made her want to put on her life vest.

"Are you quite sure you're alright?" he asked again. She looked very pale with her stark black hair, and he was afraid to let her arm go for fear that she might faint. She looked as though she was badly shaken.

"No, really I'm fine." She smiled faintly then, and he felt a little better and let her arm go. He was wearing gloves, and she looked up then and noticed how warm his smile was. "I'm sorry, that was clumsy of me. I was thinking of something else."

A man probably, he a.s.sumed incorrectly. But a woman who looked like that was seldom alone, or not for long anyway. "No harm done. Were you going in for tea?" he inquired politely, but he seemed in no hurry to leave her.

"No, actually I was going down to my cabin." He looked disappointed as she left, and when she reached her stateroom, the steward congratulated her for finally getting out and getting some air. And she laughed at his fatherly devotion. "It was very nice. You were right," she admitted, and accepted his offer of a pot of tea. He brought it with a plate of cinnamon toast a few minutes later.

"You must go out again. The only cure for sorrow is suns.h.i.+ne and fresh air, and nice people and good music."

"Do I look sad then?" She was intrigued by his observations. She hadn't been sad as much as frightened. But she had to admit, she was sad too, it was just that being here on the s.h.i.+p brought back too many memories that were all too painful. "I'm alright. Really."

"You look much better!" he approved, but he was disappointed when, that evening, she asked for dinner to be served in her cabin.

"We have such a beautiful dining saloon, madame. Won't you eat dinner there?" He didn't mind serving her, but he was so proud of the s.h.i.+p that it always hurt him when people didn't take full advantage of all its luxuries and comforts.

"I didn't bring anything to wear, I'm afraid."

"It's of no importance. A beautiful woman can go anywhere in a plain black dress." And he had seen the black wool dress she had worn only that morning.

"Not tonight. Perhaps tomorrow." He obliged her by bringing her filet mignon with asparagus hollandaise, and pommes soufflees made for her especially by the chef, or so he claimed, but as with the other meals he'd brought in the past two days, she ate very little.

"Madame is never hungry," he mourned as he took the tray away, but that evening when he came to turn her bed down, he was pleased to find that for once she was not in her cabin. She had thought about it for a long time, and finally decided to go out again and get some air before she went to bed. She stayed away from the rail, and walked slowly along the Promenade, keeping her eyes down, for fear of what she would see if she looked far out into the ocean. Perhaps a lifeboat, or a ghost ... or an iceberg ... She was trying not to think of it as she walked along, and a moment later she collided with a pair of elegant black patent leather men's evening shoes, and looked up to see the handsome blond man in the coat with the beaver collar.

"Oh, no!..." she laughed, looking truly embarra.s.sed. She had knocked something out of his hands again, and this time he laughed too.

"We seem to have something of a problem. Are you alright again?" She was, of course, and she was blus.h.i.+ng and feeling more than a little foolish.

"I wasn't watching where I was going. Again!" She smiled.

"Nor was I," he confessed. "I was looking far out to sea ... it's beautiful, isn't it?" He glanced in that direction again, but Edwina did not. She just stood there, watching him, and thinking that he was very much like Charles in his manner. He was tall and handsome and aristocratic, and yet he was blond and not dark, and considerably older than Charles when they'd been on the t.i.tanic. The man looked back at her then, with a friendly smile, and seemed to have no inclination to keep walking. "Would you care to join me?" He crooked his arm for her to slip her hand into it, and she was looking for a polite way to decline after cras.h.i.+ng into him for the second time, and she couldn't think of a single reason.

"I was ... I'm actually ... a little tired ... I was going to ..."

"Retire? So was I in a little while, but perhaps a walk will do us both good. Clears the head ... and the eyes ..." he teased as she slipped a hand into his arm without thinking. She followed him slowly around the deck and wasn't sure what to say to him. She wasn't used to talking to strangers, just to children, and to friends at home she'd known all her life, and George's Hollywood friends, who, to her, were a bit less impressive because most of them were so silly.

"Are you from New York?" He was talking mainly to himself, as Edwina was too nervous to speak to him at first, but it didn't seem to bother him as they walked along in the cool night air, with the moonlight overhead. And walking along with this handsome stranger, she felt more than a little foolish. She didn't know what to say to him, but he didn't seem to notice.

"No, I'm not," she almost whispered in the darkness, "I'm actually from San Francisco."

"I see ... going to London to visit friends ... or Paris?"

"London." To s.n.a.t.c.h my sister out of the arms of the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who ran off with her even though she's only seventeen years old and he's probably fifty. "Just for a few days."

"It's quite a trip for just a few days' stay. You must like traveling on s.h.i.+ps." He chatted on smoothly as they walked, and eventually stopped at two deck chairs. "Would you like to sit down?" She did, still not knowing why, but he was so easy to be with that somehow it was easier just to follow along. She sat down in the deck chair next to him, and he put a blanket across her legs, and then turned to look at her again. "I'm sorry ... I've totally forgotten to introduce myself." He held out a hand to her with a warm smile, "I'm Patrick Sparks-Kelly, from London."

She shook his hand properly and settled back in the chair beside him. "I'm Edwina Winfield."

"Miss?" he asked straightforwardly, and she nodded with a smile, not sure why it made a difference. But when she nodded, he raised an eyebrow. "Aha! More mysterious than ever. People have been talking about you, you know." He looked greatly intrigued and Edwina laughed again. He was funny and nice and she liked him.