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He checked her into Claridge's then, and promised to be back at five, it was not yet noon by then. And she immediately sent a telegram to the children, telling them where she was, and that all was well, and requesting that they wire her if they had news of Alexis. And she could only a.s.sume that they were fine, or in the next day or so they would wire her at Claridge's, to tell her their problems.
She went to Harrods quickly then, and bought more dresses in less time than she had ever done in her life, got her hair done nearby, and took a cab back to the hotel, laden with hatboxes and dresses, and her new hairdo. And when Patrick arrived at five, he found her elegant and smiling, and excited to see him.
"Good heavens," he grinned, "what have you been up to all afternoon?" But he had been busy too. He had bought her a rare copy of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and had she been more familiar with London shops, she would have known that the box he pulled out of his pocket came from Wartski's. She gasped at first when he handed it to her, and she was afraid to open it, but at last she did, and for a long moment, she fell silent as she stared at his gift. It was a narrow diamond bracelet, and the legend was that it had been given to Queen Victoria by Prince Albert. It was rare that items like that came up for sale at all, but for special customers, they sometimes offered one or two very special items. It was the sort of thing she could wear all the time, and she knew as she put it on her arm, that it would stay there for a long, long time, in memory of Patrick.
He had also brought her a bottle of champagne, but after only one drink, they both decided that it was time to start looking for Alexis. He had hired a car and driver just for that and they began their search of every hotel in Soho. And at eight o'clock as they tried "just one more," Edwina walked in with a photograph, as they had for the last two hours, and Patrick slipped a five-pound note to the desk clerk.
"Have you seen this girl?" she asked, showing a small photograph that she had carried for years in her wallet. "She's traveling with a man named Malcolm Stone, a tall, good-looking man of, say, forty-five or fifty." The desk clerk looked at Edwina, then Patrick, and then at the bill in his hand, and finally this one nodded and looked up at them again.
"Yeah, they're here. What's she done? Stolen something off yer? They're American, you know." He apparently hadn't noticed Edwina's accent, and as the money had come from him, he addressed himself to Patrick.
"Are they here now?"
"Nah, they left yesterday. They only been here a few days. I can look up exactly when they came, if you want to know. She's a right pretty girl she is, got a headful of yeller hair." Edwina could feel her heart pound to know that she had come this far and was now this close to Alexis, and a tiny part of her was almost sorry to find her so soon. Now it meant she had to go home, and leave Patrick. "They went to Paris for a few days, least that's what he said. Gave up the room for two weeks, but they said they'd be back again. They will too. He left a suitcase." Patrick glanced at Edwina, and as she nodded imperceptibly he slipped the boy another bill and asked to see the suitcase. There were a.s.sorted men's clothes in it when they opened it, but right on top there was a white suit. It was the one she'd been wearing when she left Los Angeles, and the hat was all but ruined, but Edwina knew it immediately as Alexis's.
"That's it!" Her eyes shone with tears as she touched it, wondering what had happened to her since she left. "That's hers, Patrick. That's what she was wearing the day she disappeared in Los Angeles, the day after George's wedding." It seemed a lifetime ago now, and in a way it was. It had been more than two weeks, and in that time Alexis's whole life had changed, she knew, as she looked up at Patrick.
"What do you want to do now?" he asked softly as the desk clerk went back to the front desk to answer a phone.
"I don't know. He said they'd be gone for two weeks."
"Why don't we go to dinner and discuss it." That sounded fine to her, and before they left, the desk clerk asked if he should say that they'd been there, but Edwina was quick to answer.
"No. Don't say anything." Another pound note a.s.sured his silence. And she and Patrick walked outside to the waiting car, and drove back to Claridge's for dinner.
They went back up to her room, and Patrick was quick to ask if she wanted to follow them to Paris, but it seemed like a wild-goose chase to her. They didn't know where they'd gone, or why, and the suitcase told her that they'd be back again. "I think we just have to wait." But now they had two weeks at their disposal.
"Is there anything special you want to do here?" he asked. There was one thing, but there was time for that, and she was going to ask Patrick about it later.
"Not really." She smiled. But he already had an idea. It was something he had wanted to do for years. There was a place he had always longed to go back to in Ireland. He hadn't been there since he was a boy, and it had always seemed like the most romantic place in the world to him, and as Edwina listened to him tell her about it over dinner, she knew that all she wanted to do now was go there.
"Can you do that?" she asked cautiously, and he grinned, feeling like a wild young boy again. She made him feel young and happy and alive, just as he did for her. She felt like a girl again, only now she knew what she'd missed. And suddenly, everything was ten times as romantic.
"Let's do it, Edwina," he whispered to her as he leaned across the corner of the table to kiss her.
And in the morning, it was done. She called Fannie and Teddy to let them know she was all right. And then Patrick picked her up, and they took a train, a ferry across the Irish Sea, and then hired a car and drove to Cashel, where by nightfall they stood in front of the Rock of Cashel. It was a sober, enormous, imposing place, and the fields beyond it were covered with gorse and heather, and even at this time of year she thought she'd never seen anything as green, as they walked for miles at sunset. And at last they stood in the circle of each other's arms as he kissed her.
"You've come a long, long way to be with me," he said in the cool evening air as the sun went down over the lake behind them.
"It's as though it was meant to be, isn't it?"
"It was," he promised her, in the gentle brogue of County Tipperary, and then in his own voice again, "I will always remember this day, Edwina, until I'm very, very old, and on the day I die, I will remember this moment." He kissed her again, and they walked slowly back to their hotel, and upstairs to their room, and she knew at that moment that she had been born for him, that this was meant to be. He had rented a single room for them, and they both knew why. They had so little time, so much to share, so much to learn, and as Patrick gently peeled her dress away and lifted her onto the bed, she knew that he had so much to teach her.
She lay beside him until the dawn, as he drank her in, and she knew that her wedding day had come, the only one she'd ever had, not the one she had been meant to have with Charles, but the only life she would ever have, these brief, sweet, precious two weeks with Patrick.
Chapter 37.
THE MOMENTS SPED BY ON ANGEL'S WINGS AS PATRICK AND Edwina roamed across the hills, rowed on the little lake, picked wildflowers, and took photographs of everything, and spent the nights in each other's arms deep in their bed, and it seemed as though in the blink of an eye, it was over. They traveled back to London silently, anxious not to get there. In the end, they had stolen two extra days, but they both knew they had to get back, and Edwina had to find Alexis. She felt foolish about it at times. By now she suspected the girl didn't want to be found, and her letter to Edwina in New York had reiterated that they were married. And there were even moments when Edwina envied her, because perhaps she had everything she wanted. Although it was hard for Edwina to imagine Malcolm Stone as a pleasant man, there was always the unfortunate possibility that Alexis really loved him. She still didn't know what she was going to say to George when she got back, if anything. But right now she wasn't thinking of Alexis or George. She was only thinking of Patrick. She slipped her hand into his, and wished that an entire lifetime could be theirs, but they both knew it could never be. He had told her that from the first, and she had to go back to the States to live the life she had left there. But for one s.h.i.+ning moment, the dream had been theirs, and she knew they would always cherish it as something rare and precious. As they walked back into Alexis's hotel, the diamond bracelet shone on her arm, in memory of the days they'd shared, the love they'd sp.a.w.ned, the moments they would treasure.
Patrick asked for Malcolm Stone this time, and this time a different desk clerk told them they were in, and with a quick slip of the hand Patrick told him not to ring, and he looked at Edwina.
"Do you want to come up with me, or shall I see him first?"
"I'd better come up with you," she whispered, "or you'll frighten Alexis." Although admittedly by now, it was difficult thinking of anything that could frighten her, after the life she must have led for the past four weeks. It had been nearly a month since she'd run away. And George was due back home again in a few weeks. She was going to have to get her home quickly if she was going to do it quietly at all, and she followed Patrick up the stairs to the room number they'd been given. And with trembling hands, Edwina waited while Patrick knocked on the door, as they both wondered what they'd find there.
Patrick looked at her, smiled to buck her up, and then knocked loudly, and less than half a minute later, a tall, handsome man with bare feet and a cigar pulled the door open. He had a whiskey bottle in one hand, and beyond him a pretty girl in a satin slip stood watching them. And it was only an instant later that Edwina realized the pretty girl was her sister. The long mane of blond hair had been bobbed and then marcelled, and she was wearing pale white powder and rouge and lots of kohl and lipstick. But even beneath the mask she wore, Patrick saw that Edwina had been right, the child was a beauty.
She began to cry the minute she saw them, and Malcolm bowed low and invited them in, amused that the virgin sister had brought a hero.
"My, my, a family visit so soon." He looked at Edwina with sarcasm warmed by Irish whiskey. "I had no idea you'd be kind enough to visit us in London, Miss Winfield." For an instant, Patrick had the same urge George had had when he'd floored him in Rosarita months before, but he restrained himself and for the moment, said nothing.
Edwina looked solemnly at her sister, and Patrick saw the softness disappear. She was suddenly stern and almost imposing. "Alexis, please be good enough to pack your things." And then she looked at Malcolm Stone with contempt. He reeked of booze and cheap cigars, and she shuddered at the life of total degradation her sister must have led with him. But Alexis hadn't moved since she and Patrick had entered.
"Are you planning to take my wife somewhere?" he mocked as he asked Edwina.
"Your 'wife' happens to be a seventeen-year-old girl, and unless you plan to answer to charges of kidnapping and rape, I suggest that you let her come home with me, Mr. Stone," Edwina said coolly.
"This is not California, Miss Winfield. This is England. And she is my wife. You have no say here."
Edwina looked at him as though he did not exist, and then directly past him at her sister. "Alexis, are you coming?"
"I ... Edwina, do I have to? I love him." The words struck her sister like a fist, and Patrick sensed it only because he knew her, but there was no sign of it, and he found himself admiring her even more for her strength with this obviously wicked child and disgusting profligate she'd run off with. However upset Edwina may have been, she showed nothing but dignified restraint as she spoke to her sister.
"Is this how you wish to live?" She spoke softly to her, looking around the room, leaving nothing out, the open toilet, their clothes on the floor, the empty whiskey bottles, the dead cigars, and finally, she glanced at Malcolm. "Is this what you've always wanted?" It would have shamed anyone, particularly a seventeen-year-old girl. Even Patrick was embarra.s.sed by her tone, and secretly, so was Malcolm. "Is this your dream, Alexis? What happened to the rest of it? Where is the movie star ... the home ... where is all the love you've had? Is this what you've turned it into?" Alexis started to whimper and turned away, and in her heart, Edwina knew what she'd done, and it hurt her to realize it. It was no accident that she had done this the day after George's wedding. She was looking for the father she had lost ... just as she had tried to run away when Phillip left for Harvard ... she needed men, a man, anyone. But what Alexis really wanted was not a lover or a husband, or just any man, but a daddy. And it almost made Edwina cry as she looked sadly at her sister.
"Edwina ..." Alexis began to cry. "I'm so sorry ..." It hadn't been anything she had expected. She had thought it would be glamorous and fun running off with Malcolm, but for weeks now she had known the truth. He was only using her in every way he could, and it was dismal and depressing. Even Paris had been grim. He had been drunk all the time, and more than once she knew he had gone off with other girls, but at least then she knew he'd leave her alone. She didn't want anything to do with him, and yet in some part of her, she always wanted him to love her. And when he called her "baby," she would have done anything for him, and he knew it.
"Get dressed," Edwina said quietly, as Patrick watched, full of admiration for her.
"Miss Winfield, you may not take my wife." Malcolm took a step toward Edwina then and wove a little as he tried to look menacing, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Patrick approach, but she held a hand out to stop him. She had an idea, and she wasn't leaving until she knew the truth. He wasn't the sort of man to marry anyone, let alone a child of seventeen like Alexis.
"Do you have proof of your marriage to my sister, sir?" she asked politely. "You can't expect me to believe it if I don't see proof. And by the way ..." She turned to Alexis then, as the girl was dressing. She was putting on a red satin thing that made Edwina cringe, but she was only glad to see her putting her clothes on. "By the way, Alexis, how did you get into England and France without a pa.s.sport, or did you get one in New York?" Edwina spoke very coolly, and Alexis gave her the answer.
"Malcolm told them I'd lost my pa.s.sport. And I was so sick they didn't want to upset me."
"Sick, on the s.h.i.+p?" Edwina asked, sympathetically. She knew how traumatic the trip must have been, and was surprised she'd gone at all.
"They kept me drugged the whole time I was on the Bremen." She said it innocently as she put her shoes on.
"Drugged?" Edwina's eyebrows shot straight up as she looked at Malcolm. "And do you plan to return to the States, Mr. Stone, ever? ... drugged ... kidnapped ... raped ... a girl of seventeen ... a minor ... what an interesting tale that will make in court."
"Will it?" Malcolm slowly came to life. "Do you really think your brother and his fancy Hollywood bride are going to want to spread that around? Just exactly what do you think that's going to do to her reputation? No, Miss Winfield, he won't go to court, and neither will you, nor will Alexis. He's going to give me work, that's what he's going to do, for his brother-in-law. Or if he doesn't want to give me work, maybe he'd just like to give me money." He laughed, as Edwina listened in horror, and then she looked at Alexis and knew the truth. She was crying as she listened in shame to the man she'd run away with. She had known, suspected all along, that he didn't love her, but now there was no hiding from it at all after what he'd just said to Edwina.
"Alexis, did you marry him?" Edwina looked her straight in the eye. "Did you? Tell me the truth. I want to know. And after what you just heard, you should tell me, for George's sake and your own." But Alexis was already shaking her head, much to Edwina and Patrick's relief, and crying softly, as Malcolm swore, furious with himself for putting it off. But he had never thought they'd come for her all the way to England.
"At first he said we did and I was too drunk to remember it. And then he admitted we didn't. But we were supposed to get married in Paris, and he was always too drunk to do it," Alexis cried, and Edwina almost laughed with joy as she glanced at Patrick.
"You can't take her," Stone tried to bluff his way through. "She's my common-law wife. I won't let you take her." And then he had another thought. "Besides," he said hopefully, seeing gold slipping through his fingers, "what if she's pregnant?"
"I'm not," Alexis answered instantly, much to Edwina's relief. At least that much was sure. And Alexis went to stand next to Edwina then, and looked sadly at Malcolm.
"You never loved me, did you? I never was your little girl..."
"Sure you were." He looked embarra.s.sed in front of all of them, and glanced at Alexis again. "We could still get married, you know. You don't have to go with them, unless you want to."
But Edwina left no misapprehension in either of them as she looked at him and then at her sister. "I will remove her physically, if I have to."
"You can't do that." Malcolm took a step toward her again, and then suddenly looked at Patrick as though for the first time. "And who's he anyway?"
Edwina had been about to answer him when Patrick cut her off and looked menacingly at Malcolm. "I am a magistrate. And if you say one more word, or detain this child any further, we shall put you in jail and hasten to deport you from the country." But as Patrick said the words, for the first time, Malcolm Stone looked truly deflated. He watched as Patrick opened the door, and Edwina walked her out. And Alexis only looked back once over her shoulder. A moment later they were all downstairs again, and the nightmare was ended, as Edwina thanked G.o.d that Alexis had never married him, and prayed that she would get her back to San Francisco without anyone ever knowing what had happened. And as for Alexis's movie career, she could kiss that goodbye. From now on, Edwina promised herself, Alexis was going to stay home with Fannie and learn to make bread and oatmeal cookies. But what made her saddest of all was knowing that no matter how much love Edwina had given her over the years, it had never been enough, and she had sold herself in her futile search for a daddy.
She said as much to Patrick later that night, once Alexis was in Edwina's bed at Claridge's. There had been a long tearful scene, hysterical apologies, and Alexis begging Edwina for forgiveness. None of which had been necessary, as Edwina held her in her arms and they both cried, and at last she had fallen asleep, and Edwina had come back outside into the living room, to talk to Patrick.
"How is she?" He looked worried, it had been a long evening for all of them, but they had come out of it a lot better off than Patrick had expected. The girl was basically fine, and Malcolm Stone had been surprisingly easy to dispose of.
"She's asleep, thank G.o.d," Edwina answered with a sigh as she sat down, and he poured her a gla.s.s of champagne. "What a night."
"What a dreadful character he was. Do you think he'll come back to haunt you?" She had wondered about it herself, but there was little she could do about it now, other than tell George and have him blacklisted, but she wasn't anxious to do that either.
"I don't know. I hope not. It doesn't exactly make him look like a prince either. Thank G.o.d he was too lazy to marry her. We could have had it annulled, of course, but it would have complicated everything, and I'm sure then it would have ended up in the papers."
"And now?"
"With luck, I can sneak her back into the country, and no one will know. Do you suppose I can get a pa.s.sport for her here?"
"I'll talk to the emba.s.sy for you tomorrow." He knew the American amba.s.sador well, and hopefully he could get a pa.s.sport for her, without too many questions. As Malcolm Stone had done, he was just going to say she lost it, while traveling with her sister.
"Would you do something else for me too?" She had wanted to ask him that ever since she had discovered that Charles was his cousin. "Will you call Lady Fitzgerald for me? I know she must be rather old by now." She hadn't been young eleven years before. "But if she's willing to, I'd like to see her."
He was quiet for a moment and then he nodded.
"I need to say good-bye to her," she said softly. She had never had the chance to do that before. And most of all, she had needed to say good-bye to Charles, and Patrick had finally helped her do that.
"I'll call her tomorrow too." And then regretfully, he kissed her good-bye. "I'll see you in the morning."
"I love you," she whispered, and he smiled and pulled her close to him again.
"I love you too." But they both knew now that the end was near. If she was going to get Alexis home quietly, she'd have to go soon. And Edwina hated the thought of leaving Patrick.
Chapter 38.
THE NEXT MORNING, ALEXIS GOT A DREADFUL FRIGHT WHEN Patrick appeared. She opened the door to him and then went running to find Edwina.
"The magistrate is here again!" she whispered in urgent tones, and Edwina went to see what he wanted. But she exploded into gales of laughter when she saw him.
"That's not the magistrate," she laughed, "that's Patrick Sparks-Kelly, my friend." And then she added by way of explanation to Alexis, and because she felt she had to justify knowing him so well, "He's Charles's cousin."
"But I thought ... you said ..." Alexis looked like a child again, the makeup washed off, the hair as simply combed as Edwina could get it. She had done some awful things to it in Paris. And now Alexis smiled, looking clean and beautiful again as Edwina explained that Patrick had only pretended to be a magistrate to frighten Malcolm.
"Just in case your friend gave us trouble," he explained. And then he told Edwina all she had to do was pick the pa.s.sport up at Number 4 Grosvenor Gardens and then he told her quietly that Lady Fitzgerald was expecting them at eleven.
"Was she surprised to hear from me?" Edwina didn't want to provide too great a shock. She had calculated that she would be well into her seventies by then.
But Patrick shook his head. "I think she was more surprised that I knew you."
"How did you explain that?" She looked at him worriedly. They had so much to hide, even from Alexis.
"I just told her we met on the s.h.i.+p." He smiled. "A happy coincidence ... for me ..."
"Do you think it will upset her too much to see me?" she asked worriedly, and he shook his head again.
"Not at all. I think she made her peace with it a long time ago, far more than you did."
And when they met later that morning, Edwina realized that it was true. Lady Fitzgerald welcomed her openly, and sat and talked with Edwina for a long time, while Patrick and Alexis strolled in her splendid gardens.
"I always hoped you'd marry someday," she said sadly, looking at Edwina. She had been such a pretty young girl, and she still was. It seemed a waste to her to learn that she'd never married. "But I suppose you couldn't with all the children to raise. How terrible that your mother went down with your father. It was an awful thing ... so many lives ... such waste and all because the company was too foolish to carry enough lifeboats ... the captain too stubborn to slow his s.h.i.+p in the face of icebergs ... the radio on the nearest s.h.i.+p shut off ... it used to trouble me terribly, and in the end I had to decide that it was fate that Charles didn't survive it. You see, my dear, that is destiny. You must be grateful to be alive, and enjoy every moment."
Edwina smiled at her, fighting back tears again, remembering the first time they'd met, with Charles, and the wedding veil she'd sent when it was completed, even though he was gone by then, and Edwina would never wear it. She thanked her again and Lady Fitzgerald explained why she'd sent it.
"I felt wrong keeping it. And even though I knew it would upset you at the time, I thought that you should have it."
"My sister-in-law wore it last month, and she looked beautiful." She promised to send a photograph and the old woman smiled, looking tired. Her husband had died the year before and she herself was not in the best of health, but it had warmed her heart to see Edwina.
"Your younger sister is a very pretty girl, my dear, not unlike you at her age, except that of course her hair is so much lighter."
"I hope I wasn't quite as foolish as she is." Edwina smiled, flattered by the compliment of being even remotely compared to Alexis.
"You weren't foolish at all. And you've been very brave since then ... very brave ... perhaps now you will be lucky as well, and find someone who loves you. You've hung on to him for all these years, haven't you?" She had sensed that about Edwina the moment they had started to talk, and with tears br.i.m.m.i.n.g in her eyes, Edwina nodded. "You must let him go now," she whispered, gently kissing Edwina's cheek, and for an instant she was so deeply reminded of Charles that she almost couldn't bear it. "He's happy now, wherever he is, as your parents are. Now you must be happy, too, Edwina. All three of them would want that."
"I've been happy," she protested, blowing her nose in the handkerchief she still had from Patrick, and she wondered briefly if Lady Fitzgerald saw it. But she was too old to notice details like that, or to care whose handkerchief Edwina carried. "I've been happy with the children for all these years."
"That's not enough," Charles's mother scolded, "and you know it. Will you come back to England sometime?" she asked as they stood up and walked slowly out into the garden. Edwina felt drained, but she was glad she had come, and she knew that what Lady Fitzgerald said was true. They would have wanted her to be happy again. She couldn't hide anymore. She had learned that with Patrick. And now she was going to have to say good-bye to him too. Her life seemed to be full of painful good-byes at the moment.