Decorum (27 page)

“Let her have him and all the trouble he’ll bring her. Good riddance,” she said to herself. “For every good thing he ever did for me, I did ten for him. Wretched ingrate.”

Usurped, supplanted, betrayed, thrown over for another. These wreaked havoc with her pride just as she had wreaked havoc on the hotel room. Her life was a shambles just as the china and furniture lay cracked and splintered and ground into dust. The room would be dusted and swept, the furniture replaced, the new ornaments newly situated, but who would reassemble the broken pieces of Blanche’s life? The room’s new occupant would never know that one night a woman, in her misery, anger, and grief, took her emotions out on this room. It made her feel like a dead thing.

With effort she undid her bodice and corset, skirt and petticoats before she even took off her cape. Undone but not undressed, she flopped across the bed and fell asleep.

C
HAPTER
32

Tracey wasted no time in visiting his displeasure upon Francesca. He was at her door before breakfast and would brook no opposition. The ruckus in the entryway with the servants was justified. The place was as good as his. They may as well get used to it.

He paced the drawing room, one hand in his pocket and the other running repeatedly through his hair and moustache. The energy his tall frame emitted was palpable. Francesca didn’t greet him, nor did she shut the drawing-room doors behind her, but stood and waited. Edmund came quickly and angrily to the point.

“I’ve come for an explanation,” he said.

“I might ask the same of you.”

“You think I’m to blame for the spectacle you created last night?” The idea never occurred to him.

“I believe most people would call it self-defense.”

“Self-defense against whom? Against me? For what?”

“For the mockery you made of our engagement, saying that the pursuit of wealth is a full-time job. How could you say, in front of all those people, that I was a job? You might as well have said I was a drudge, a torture to you. I’ve never in my life been so humiliated.”

“It was an honest remark, wasn’t it? After I pursued you, all the time that I waited while you . . .” Words failed him, for he had never bothered to understand what made her retire from society, what made her spend a year away from him in that appalling settlement. He never understood why Maggie Jerome had never been able to influence her to marry him sooner. He was past making any bones about his feelings.

“While I tried to make a life for myself?” she said.

“If that’s what you call it. So now you want to exert your independence even further and go off without telling me? How long have you been plotting this little adventure?”

“I haven’t been plotting anything.”

“If you’ve been so dissatisfied, you could have discussed it with me privately.”

“How can I? You fail to appear at events and appointments. You’re gone for days and when you do appear you disregard everything I say and do. Then you insult me in public.”

“My remark hardly warranted the kind of public retaliation you chose to display.”

“If I don’t defend myself, who will? Clearly you won’t.”

“Why should I?” He stood close and jabbed an index finger at her as he spoke. “You persistently disregard everything that is a man’s right to expect of his fiancée—loyalty, honor, duty, respect—”

“Respect?”
Francesca said, aghast. “I’m surprised you know the word. You certainly don’t know what it means.”

“You’re the kind of woman who takes satisfaction in stripping a man of his pride.”

“If you had any pride, any honor, any
respect,
you’d be conscious of the disgrace and dishonor you subject us to.”

“
I
subject us to dishonor?” retorted Tracey. “What would you call that business about going away that you sprung on me so suddenly?”

“If you want the truth, I’ve been thinking about it for quite some time. Last night only confirmed my decision.”

“That you want to get away from me? How do you think that made me look in front of all your friends?”

“They’d be friends to both of us by now if you’d bother to exert yourself. Obviously it’s too much trouble to you to show some regard, to try to make them your friends, too. You have to show friendship to gain it, you know.”

“What would I want with that pack of hypocrites?” Disdain swelled within him.

“If you feel that way about them, I take it you feel the same way about me.”

“I did think you were a cut above that bunch of imposters. They talk about their money and their business and their art and haven’t any idea—”

“If you disapprove so strongly of my friends then why, for heaven’s sake, haven’t you introduced me to yours? I presume you have friends, somewhere. You must be doing something with your time to spend so much of it away from me.”

“Judging by your friends, I doubt that you’d approve of mine.”

“I presume you’re speaking of the track,” Francesca said. At this he laughed. “Or are you speaking of Mrs. Alvarado?”

Tracey stopped dead.
She must be fishing,
he thought.
She can’t possibly know about Blanche
.

“Do you think I’m stupid as well as—what did you call me, an imposter?”

“What do you mean?” Fury covered Tracey’s face. Nell must be behind that remark. She must have decided to make good on her threat to betray him. It would be just like her.

He stood transfixed while she took her turn about the room, taking a few steps and stopping, rubbing her forehead. “How can you be so unbelievably transparent, Edmund? Do you think I don’t see the looks that pass between you two? I can imagine where you were on New Year’s. And what about Thanksgiving? With Mrs. Alvarado? My God, Edmund, how long has this been going on? Since the day we were engaged? Before?”

“Tell me who’s perpetrating this slander!” Could he really have been so unguarded? Could she really have guessed all this from his behavior? Impossible. He’d been the perfect gentleman. If Nell had been behind it, surely his liaison with her would be exposed as well, unless Nell found a way to put Francesca on her guard without exposing herself. It was just like Nell to want to see him squirm, to keep him tied to her.

“You can’t be suggesting that this is untrue,” said Francesca. “At least give me a little credit for having eyes and ears.”

“People will say anything out of jealousy.”

“Jealousy? Jealous of whom? I hardly think any of my friends would stoop so low as to be jealous of my engagement to you. If they were, they’d have the decency to keep it to themselves.” Tracey made no answer to this. “As for the men,” she continued, hesitatingly, he thought, “I once entertained some small hope that there might be someone jealous of you, who might possibly count you lucky to have me. Instead, I find only embarrassment and shame—and pity.”

“So, someone’s been making up to you, throwing himself at you? That bloody Irishman, for instance? He’s been interested in you from the first. What’s he been saying?”
The perfect countermove,
he thought. He had no reason to doubt her fidelity, but Connor was sufficient to deflect suspicion from Nell.

Francesca opened her mouth to speak, then stopped as the light of revelation overspread her face. As if laid low by the thought, she walked to the settee and sat down hard. “No, that’s not it, is it? How stupid of me. Of course. How many are there, Edmund? But of course, why should it matter whether there are two or two hundred.”

“You are the consummate actress,” he raged. “
Imposter
is a good word for you. Maybe
liar
is even better.”

“People insinuate that I might do better, but I pretend not to hear. I’m finally beginning to believe them.” She rose, trembling but controlled, and wrenched the opal and garnet ring from her finger and extended it toward him. “I used to believe that even a wrong choice was better than none. I was mistaken. You may consider yourself released.”

“You damn bitch,” was all he could say. He drew his arm across his body and with all the impact of his anger let fly with the back of his hand across her face. The ring flew from her hand. Francesca screamed as she hurtled backward against the end of the settee, which only broke her fall before she tumbled to the floor.

Tracey grabbed the ring from its landing place on the hearth and thrust it toward her in defiance. “You damn bitch!” he shouted and headed for the drawing-room door.

John reached the drawing room in time to be thrust out of the way as Tracey forced past him. “Stop him!” John shouted, as Harry came running down the hall. They tried to overcome Tracey, but an older man and a youth were no match for the wrath that electrified his whole being. May screamed and ran down the stairs. The glass shook in its frame as he slammed the heavy oak door after him. Fury propelled him up Sixty-third Street to catch a cab on Fifth Avenue and order the cabby, “Gramercy Park.” He sat back, with regard for no one and nothing but his own seething anger. He would deal with Nell next.

 

A dull grayness smothered the house in Gramercy Park, which glowed its green and sickly glow within.

“Sir, you can’t go in there, I have to announce you.” The maid scurried to precede Tracey to the drawing room, but the force of his presence shoved her out of the way as if he had pushed her. He burst in and stood. The little maid made herself even smaller as she took up the dust rag where she had dropped it and resumed polishing the woodwork.

“Leave us,” Tracey said, startling the maid and immobilizing her.
“I said leave us!”

“It’s all right, Daisy. I’ll ring if I need you.” The maid escaped and pulled the doors to. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, barging in like this? You knew I was busy.” Nell’s tone was peevish. She was walking about the drawing room in a loose gown, a box of cigarettes in her hand, seeing that decanters and cigarette boxes were filled and glasses and ashtrays were plentiful. “I thought I told you to stay away for a few days. I’m having some new people in. You never know to whom they may be connected. For all I know this lot may be acquainted with your precious Jeromes.” She drew on the stub of a cigarette that hung unattractively on her lips and walked over to the hearth to toss the end. Tracey stood, coat open, holding his hat by the brim. His face was red, as if he had run all the way from Sixty-third Street. His breathing was deep, willing the breath out of his body, and his anger with it. She doled out the cigarettes the way she doled out money—a bit here, a bit there. Nell walked to him and looked into his face. Her voice lacked emotion.

“Good God, Edmund, what’s the matter? You look like someone’s just taken away your favorite toy.” She passed him to retrieve a lighter from a side table as she placed a fresh cigarette in her lips.

“What the hell did you think you were doing, Nell? You’ve ruined me.”

She turned and faced him. “Ruined you? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve got a lot of gall to even think of playing dumb.”

“I’ve been accused of many things in my life, but playing dumb was never one of them. I simply have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“After all the insufferable lectures? After all the threats?” He pulled the ring from his pocket and held it in front of Nell’s face.

“Oh, God,” she said with a droll smile. She took the ring from his hand. “She’s thrown you over. Well, well. How did that happen?”

“I thought I knew you, Nell, how you like to control people, how you like to keep them on a string to see how much you can bleed out of them. You’re like a cat—you want to keep your prey alive enough to play with, but not enough to let them escape. You like to play them along until you’re sick of them, to intimidate and threaten, but I never thought you’d actually go through with this.”

“Through with what?”

“Stop it, Nell! How else am I supposed to believe she learned about Blanche?”

“About Blanche? You think it was I?” She looked at him incredulously and put one hand on her chest. “Little me? You think I told your precious Chickadee about Blanche?” She began to laugh. “This is too choice for words.” She crossed to her favorite chair. “Your golden goose, your golden Chickadee, has thrown you over because of Blanche—and I didn’t have to lift a finger.” She laughed and watched him pace the room. “Your little secrets are finding you out, darling. I’m surprised it took this long. You really must learn to be more careful. I hope you took it like a gentleman.”

“I did what any gentleman would do.”

“Which is what?”

“I left her in no doubt of my displeasure.” The force of his voice was like a hand across the face.

Nell gave a shallow guffaw and looked at him as if she were scolding a child. “I hope you didn’t do anything foolish. You really can be so stupid, Edmund. To be thrown over is one thing. At least you aren’t to blame. But only an idiot would leave himself open to having charges pressed against him. What in God’s name were you thinking? There’s no permanent damage, I hope.”

Her reprimand set him fidgeting. He moved to and fro and beat his hat against his leg as she sat there, her face inscrutable. How could she be so complacent, even amused by the utter ruin of his prospects? Though he himself considered the heart to be a useless organ, he expected his women to possess enough to never want to see him suffer poverty and disgrace. They owed him, didn’t they? He gave pleasure to their miserable existence, didn’t he? Women were all alike—feckless and fickle, easily charmed by their own designs and enamored of their own convictions, the worthless bitches. If they would not concede respect, he had every right to exact it.

What a liar. If ever there was an imposter, an actress, it was Nell. “You need me, Nell,” he said, using his hat as a pointer and nearly shoving it in her face. She was unmoved. “All you ever wanted was to keep me tied to you, no matter what it took. You’re the kind of woman who needs a man’s attention but can’t seem to get it on her own merit, so she pays for it. How much longer do you think you can lure men to their doom?”

“Don’t waste your time trying to shame me. You don’t think sentimentalism moves me, Edmund, do you? I’m a fair judge of what people are worth. I get what I pay for.”