"Why, thank you, Marguerite," he said. "I
have a fairly good cellar now, but it'll take a long time and a lot
more money to get it where I want it. The Puligny Montrachet was a
..."
Valerie withdrew into herself, eating the ice
cream and berries and watching the easy exchanges between her
mother and Teddy.
He's just her type
, she thought somewhat
resentfully.
Handsome, rich, and charming to boot
. But
equally as important was that Teddy came from the same background
and class that they did. Her marriage to him would be considered an
alliance between two descendants of the same gloriously
aristocratic French Huguenot heritage, and any foibles he might
have would be overlooked by her mother because of that illustrious
background. Her father, she knew, would agree wholeheartedly about
Teddy. Valerie, while not disrespecting her lineage, held it in no
particular regard. It seemed so remote in time and meaning to her
that she really never gave it a thought.
It's no wonder she and Teddy get along so
well,
Valerie thought, nibbling on the kirsch-soaked berries.
He's as much of a snob about his lineage as she is. Too bad
Mother's not younger.
She saw Marguerite adjust one of the cabochon
emeralds at her ears and regarded her more closely.
Despite the resentments she harbored toward
her mother, Valerie had to admit that Marguerite Louise de Coligny
de la Rochelle was a woman every bit as formidable as her name
implied. Even though she was sixty-five years old, she had a
flawless and creamy, if subtly lined, complexion. She had
prominent, elegant cheekbones, a high forehead, a straight nose,
and wide lips that were just full enough. Her silvery hair, even
white teeth, trim figure, and immaculate grooming made her seem
almost ageless.
Her vanity about her appearance had always
astounded Valerie. Her mother spent hours at the dressmaker's,
choosing fabrics and being fitted, as she had all of her clothes
custom made. They were usually faithful and expensive copies of
Chanel and other great designers. Then she spent hours with the
hairdresser, the pedicurist, the manicurist, and untold time at
home grooming, grooming, grooming. She went to bed slathered
virtually from head to toe in some lotion or other, and never
permitted the bright sun to touch her skin.
Yet Marguerite had told Valerie she would
never submit to the surgeon's knife or dye her hair. She considered
women who did beneath her, contemptible really, slaves to
unintelligent and ill-formed notions about beauty. These poor
women, willing victims, she averred, were products of the brash,
tacky, and utterly tasteless view of beauty promulgated by an
aesthetically impoverished mass media.
"Valerie, my dear!"
Marguerite's cultured voice interrupted her
reverie. She found her mother staring at her quizzically.
"I'm sorry," Valerie said. "I missed what you
were saying."
"You haven't been paying any attention to us,
dear," Marguerite said in a chiding manner. The emerald on the
finger she pointed accusingly at Valerie glinted in the light. "How
like you. We were discussing Teddy's business, Val. Something I
should think you would take an interest in. He's been having a
wonderful year with the stock market."
"Oh," Valerie said, "that's great, Teddy."
She wondered why he never discussed his business with her.
Teddy smiled indulgently, as if Valerie
couldn't possibly be capable of comprehending the complexities of
this business-related conversation.
"You're so clever, Teddy," Marguerite
enthused, "and I think you're to be congratulated."
"Well, trading definitely has its ups and
downs," Teddy replied. "But I
have
had an extraordinarily
good run recently. Of course, the way the market's been lately,
Marguerite, who wouldn't?"
"Yes," she allowed, "but not everyone knows
how to take advantage of it the way you do, Teddy. I guess
bloodlines always tell, don't they? It's all in the genes."
Teddy laughed. "Maybe," he said. "But I doubt
if I'll ever be the investment guru my father was."
Marguerite tinkled laughter. "Well, my dear,
I think your father would be very proud of you."
"Well, thank you," Teddy said with an
amiability that he didn't feel. He really didn't know or care what
the late, great Theodore de Mornay would have thought. He'd hated
the son of a bitch while he was alive and had grown to like him no
more in death. The same with his mother, Claudine, who'd been
nothing more than an apparition to him, coming and going in ball
gowns, jewels, and expensive perfumes before spending the last of
her fifty-odd years a virtual prisoner in her own bedroom, addicted
to prescription drugs and alcohol.
"I wish Dockering Wainwright did so well by
me," Marguerite said, worrying the emeralds at her neck with long
slender fingers. She looked over at Valerie. The significance of
the look was not lost on her daughter.
Valerie cleared her throat and placed a smile
on her lips. "Dock's been handling your affairs forever, Mother,"
she said, "and he seems to have done a fine job. Dad always thought
so," she added. She looked at Teddy. "That's not to say you
wouldn't, Teddy, but Dad always had Dock do it. . . and, well
..."
"I wouldn't think of encroaching on the great
Dockering Wainwright's territory," Teddy quickly interrupted. "I'm
sure he's a great investment advisor."
"Nevertheless," Marguerite said, "he
certainly doesn't seem to get
your
results, Teddy. If you
ask me, he's half asleep at the wheel."
"I think Dock's on top of things," Valerie
said. "He may be old-fashioned and conservative, certainly he's not
a risk taker, but he's astute and dependable nonetheless."
"Is he?" Marguerite asked. "I may be an old
woman who knows very little about these things," she continued in
an overweeningly self-deprecating manner, "but it seems to me that
my little portfolio has hardly grown in value at all. Needless to
say, it naturally follows that my dividends haven't either. And in
a market that everybody knows is going great guns. Why, half the
real estate sold around here is for cash! Total asking price, if
not more. It's all these smart young men like Teddy from New York."
She paused and looked directly at her daughter.
"Maybe you're right, Mother," Valerie
conceded, "but I've never heard a complaint against Dock." She
looked directly at her mother then. "Anyway, it's really not for me
to decide who handles your affairs, is it?"
"No," Marguerite said, "it certainly is not."
Her focus shifted back to Teddy again. "I think it's high time I
gave old Dock a little goose," she said. "I suppose we all get a
little complacent at times, don't we?"
"It's easy to do," Teddy said. "Especially
when it's not your own money you're handling. Or if you don't have
some sort of special interest in your client's welfare."
"Well said, Teddy," Marguerite pronounced.
"I'll get on the telephone to Dock tomorrow, then give you a call
to let you know what he has to say for himself. If that's okay with
you, that is."
"Of course, Marguerite," Teddy replied. "I
think it's a sound idea."
"Good, that's settled, then," Marguerite
said. She took a sip of water, the huge emerald on her finger
catching the light again, then set the glass down and turned the
full wattage of her gaze on Valerie. "Valerie, my dear," she said,
"I think there's something you haven't told me."
"Told you?" Valerie knew right away what her
mother was talking about, but she decided to play dumb. She knew it
would antagonize Marguerite if she didn't give her the satisfaction
of an immediate answer. She also knew that she was being petty, but
she decided to make her mother weasel the answer out of her. That
would punish her and Teddy for discussing the engagement ring
behind her back. "What's that, Mother?" she asked. "What haven't I
told you?"
Marguerite's eyes took on a steely
expression, but it was fleeting and quickly replaced by a laugh of
amusement. "Valerie, my dear," she said, "you've been working far
too hard with those filthy beasts. I can't think what else would
make you forget something so important."
Teddy cleared his throat and smiled. "Val,"
he said, "she might be referring to a little something that
happened over the weekend. Remember?"
Valerie decided to quit playing her little
game. "Oh!" she cried. "How could I!" She looked at Teddy, who
smiled endearingly at her. "Oh, Teddy, I'm sorry," she said. "I
feel like such an idiot."
"Don't worry about it," he said
good-naturedly.
Valerie glanced over at her mother. "Teddy
and I . . . we ... he gave me an engagement ring last weekend," she
finally managed. She couldn't bring herself to say, We're
engaged.
"Splendid," Marguerite pronounced, as if
surprised. "Absolutely splendid." She reached over and touched her
daughter's hand. "I'm so pleased for you," she said. Then she
reached over and patted Teddy's hand. "Both of you. It's wonderful
news."
Valerie nodded. "I'm glad you're happy,
Mother," she said in a quiet voice.
"You must show me your ring, Val, dear,"
Marguerite said.
"Uh, well," Valerie sputtered, feeling
herself blush hotly. "Oh, I... I forgot to put it on."
"You what!" Marguerite exclaimed. She stared
at her daughter in disbelief.
"Oh, Val," Teddy groaned. "I noticed you
weren't wearing it, but I thought that surely you had it tucked
away in your handbag or someplace to surprise your mother."
"I'm sorry," Valerie murmured. "I was in such
a rush to change clothes and get here after work, and besides"—she
shrugged and smiled—"I'm just not used to it yet."
"No harm done," Teddy said in a forgiving
voice.
Valerie turned to her mother. "It's really
beautiful, Mother," she said. "And huge! You'll love it. I promise
to come by with it one day this week after work."
"I do hope so," Marguerite said, not adding
that Teddy had shown her the ring the day he'd bought it. "Teddy's
made such an effort on your behalf, and I should think you'd be
terribly happy with so generous a gift."
"I. . . I've just been so busy and
everything," Valerie said. "I was on call at the clinic this
weekend, and there was an emergency. And—"
"That clinic," Marguerite said with a frown
of distaste. "It's always that clinic. I knew it. You spend far too
much time there. And what sort of emergency could possibly make you
forget you'd become engaged?" She looked at her daughter
questioningly.
"Stonelair," Teddy said grimly, not giving
Valerie the opportunity to answer for herself. "The mystery
man."
"Oh, dear,
no
," Marguerite said,
visibly shaken. "Don't tell me you've been out to that dreadful
place, Val, dear. I've been told on the best authority that he's
some sort of drug baron or something. Is it true?"
Valerie shrugged. "Who knows?" she replied.
"I was taking care of a sick horse. I didn't even meet the man."
She paused, then added jocularly: "But I didn't see mountains of
drugs or guns or anything."
No one laughed.
"Well," Marguerite said in her most indignant
voice, "it seems to me it would almost have to be drugs or
something equally disgusting to support a place like that. Not even
the young Wall Street tycoons that are buying everything in sight
around here could afford that place." She paused, looking at her
daughter significantly. "Besides," she continued, "nobody of any
importance knows him as far as
I
know. And he's so secretive
that I'm certain something evil is going on out there."
"I don't know anything about any of the
gossip you've heard," Valerie countered defiantly, "but they've
asked me to take care of all their animals. Personally."
"Oh, dear," Marguerite said, her eyes
widening in alarm.
"You're surely not thinking of taking them up
on their offer," Teddy said.
Valerie didn't answer him at once.
"Well, you're not, are you?" he prodded.
"I don't know yet," Valerie replied. But it
was at that precise moment that she made up her mind to accept
Conrad's offer and become Stonelair's exclusive veterinarian. She
would make certain to discuss it with the clinic staff
tomorrow.
"You don't know yet?" Marguerite parroted. "I
must say I'm surprised by your cavalier attitude. I shouldn't think
you would even entertain the notion." Her voice and demeanor were
disdainful in the extreme. "He must be some sort of horribly evil
Mafioso or some such thing. Why, I'm told that the beastly man has
turned down every invitation that's been extended to him."
"What's so evil about that?" Valerie asked.
"I mean, how does that make him a drug lord or Mafioso? Maybe he
just doesn't like to mingle."
"Well, it makes him antisocial if nothing
else," Marguerite said. "Which is highly suspicious, if you ask
me."
"I haven't seen the place," Teddy
interjected, "but I've talked to a couple of local guys who've been
in there to do work. From what they say, the guy's spent millions
on the place. Brought all the labor from down south, Florida or
someplace. He sure seems to have bottomless pockets. I know that I
couldn't even begin to do what he's done to that place."
Valerie had been watching Teddy, and she
couldn't help but detect the somewhat cocky manner he assumed when
he felt bested. Nor did she miss the distinct note of resentment in
his voice. He's jealous of Conrad, she realized.
Jealous of his
money, if nothing else.
"Well, enough said about such an unsavory and
frightening subject," Marguerite announced. "Let's have coffee on
the porch, shall we? It's lovely out." She smiled at them both.
"Just what the doctor ordered," Teddy
said.