Magnolia (13 page)

THE NEXT DAY, CLAIRE WAS SURPRISED BY A VISIT
from Evelyn Paine, who had a special request.

“I know it's short notice, and you're working so hard to make gowns for Jane and Emma and me. But I have a friend visiting from Savannah with her daughter, and she'd dearly adore having you sew a special gown for her daughter's coming-out party.”

“I'd be delighted. But why did you come in person instead of just sending a note?” Claire asked curiously.

Evelyn looked around. “Is Mrs. Dobbs at home?”

“Why, no. She's gone shopping.”

“Thank goodness. Claire, this is rather a sensitive issue, and I have no wish to broadcast it. I had to come myself.” She leaned forward, elegant in a burgundy suit with a white ruffled blouse and a broad-brimmed hat to match the suit. “The matron visiting me is your husband's mother. Her own husband has forbidden her to contact him, and she
gave her word. But she did not promise that she wouldn't contact his wife.”

Claire almost gasped. “I don't know what to say!”

“Say yes. She is staying at my home. She and Emily, her daughter. They're wonderful people. They want very much to meet you. Come home with me now.”

Claire hesitated. John would be livid if he found out. And how would she explain her absence?

She looked up and sighed. She and John were already so far apart that one more thing wouldn't really make much difference. “I'll come,” she told Evelyn.

 

S
HE WASN'T SURE WHAT
she expected to see. John was tall and dark and elegant, so she had a picture of his kinfolk in mind that was nothing like the people she met. His mother was small and fair and fragile-looking. His sister Emily was tall and elegant, and also fair but with dark eyes. They stared at Claire for so long that she felt uncomfortable.

“You are John's wife?” Maude Hawthorn asked hesitantly.

“I'm afraid so,” Claire said. “I suppose you were expecting someone beautiful…”

“Nonsense,” Maude said, and smiled as she came forward to take Claire's hands. Her blue eyes were as warm as her fingers. “If I'm surprised, it's at my son's good taste. Evelyn has shown me a sample of your talent at needlework, my dear. It was more than just an excuse to bring you here. We really would like you to sew Emily's coming-out gown.”

“Indeed so,” Emily said, coming forward with an
enthusiastic smile of her own. “I've never seen such intricate embroidery and beadwork. You're so talented!” She chuckled, her dark eyes twinkling. “Imagine my big brother being so wise in his choice of brides!”

“It wasn't wisdom, I'm afraid…it was pity,” Claire said, with more bitterness than she realized. “My uncle had died and I had no means of support. Because of his friendship with Uncle Will, John was concerned for my welfare.”

Maude, who knew her son very well, had never known him to do anything drastic out of pity alone. From what Evelyn had told her, this young woman had character and integrity—and she wasn't mercenary. Not like that other woman whose scandalous behavior with John Hawthorn had reached his mother's ears even far away in Savannah.

“You know something about us from John, I imagine?” Maude said hopefully.

Claire hesitated, waiting for inspiration.

Evelyn mistook her silence and smiled. “If you'll excuse me, I'll see about getting us some tea and cakes.” She closed the sliding doors of the living room behind her.

Claire turned her attention back to Maude Hawthorn. “I know almost nothing about you,” she said painfully. “John doesn't speak of his family to me. At least, not much.”

Maude looked crushed. “I…see.”

“Oh, please. Don't look like that,” Claire entreated. “John and I spend very little time together,” she added honestly. “Our marriage is one of appearances, you see.” She sat down heavily on the velvet-covered couch. “The truth is that he married me to spare himself, the bank, and
Mrs. Calverson any more poisonous gossip. He had been somewhat indiscreet, and tongues were wagging. Marrying me gave me a roof over my head and protection for him.”

Maude sat down beside her. So much for her hopes that this was a marriage of love! “Then he still can't stay away from her,” she said heavily. “I had hoped, so much, that he was finally finished with that ill-starred attraction.”

“So had we all,” Emily added, taking the rosewood chair across from the sofa.

Maude spread her hands in silent appeal. “As you may already have noticed, Mrs. Calverson is not a favorite subject at our home. It was she who caused the first rift between John and his father, demanding that John be given his inheritance at once. There was no way my husband could comply, and John knew it. The nineties were, as you know, extremely unfavorable years for the banking industry. We are only just now finding our feet.”

Claire was entranced. “Are you…your family…bankers?” she asked, with eager curiosity.

Maude smiled. “Yes. My father was president of the largest bank in Savannah, and my husband is now chairman of its board of directors. He also sits on the board of three other prominent banks, one here in Atlanta. My son Jason owns a huge shipping business in Savannah and a fleet of fishing boats. He is the only son we have left at home now. We are very close to him, although we miss John so much.”

Clearly deciding to change the melancholy subject, Emily
said, “I have my coming out at the spring charity ball in Savannah. You would have plenty of time to sew a gown for me.”

“Would you?” Maude pleaded. “We've seen Evelyn's gowns. You're very talented.”

“What if John finds out?” Claire asked. “He'll think I've gone behind his back, and I have.”

Maude's blue eyes were piercing. “You love him, don't you?”

“With all my heart,” Claire said miserably, “for all the good it's done me. He'd walk over my dying body to get to the beautiful Mrs. Calverson. I have no illusions whatsoever about his feelings for me; he has none.”

Maude's indrawn breath was audible.

“I've shocked you,” Claire said. “I'm sorry.”

Maude's face grew strained. “You say John said little about our family. Did he tell you about Robert and Andrew?”

Claire frowned. “Robert and Andrew?” she murmured. “Oh. His brothers.”

“Yes, my dear,” Maude said, and her face began to show its age. She folded her hands in her lap. “Robert and Andrew were our youngest sons. They joined the navy shortly after John came home in his uniform, so dignified and enthusiastic about saving the Cuban people from Spanish domination.” She traced the fingers of one hand over the back of the other. “They were aboard the USS
Maine
when it went down. Both were killed.”

“John told me what happened. It must be a pain
ful memory for him. He could hardly bear to speak of it to me.”

“It is equally painful to us. But my husband blamed John. He cursed him and disinherited him, and vowed never to speak to him again. Sadly, he forced that same silence on Emily and Jason and me. I have obeyed him in all things in the past. But he is very ill with his heart, and I know that he regrets this situation. He is too proud to approach John.” She looked up at Claire. “I had hoped that you might find a way to coax John into coming home to visit.”

Claire's thin shoulders lifted and fell. “You must see now that I could coax my husband to do nothing,” she said, with a bittersweet smile. “John and I are strangers, in almost every way.”

“I had hoped to find a totally different situation.”

“I'm sorry,” Claire said helplessly. “Is your husband very bad?”

“His heart is weak,” Maude said. “Although I think it is his alienation from John that has made it so. We often say things in the heat of anger that we later regret. He was grief-stricken for his sons, and he refused to believe that their passing was an act of God. He had to blame someone. John was the easiest to blame. It wasn't John's fault, Claire,” she added sadly. “They'd planned to join the service since they were boys. It was unfortunate that it should happen quite so soon after John's visit, and that they should serve on a doomed ship.”

Claire's eyes widened. “Why, that is why John refused to discuss attending the governor's ball at Christmas!” she
exclaimed involuntarily. “It was because he expected his father to be there.”

“He will not,” Maude said. “Because he can't travel this far. Neither Emily nor I will come without him.”

“Yes, but I can't tell John that without his realizing how I know.”

“I see.” Maude smiled wistfully. “I think you would have liked the ball.”

“I know I would have,” Claire replied. “But we never get everything we want, do we? Now, what about this gown for Emily?”

 

T
HEY SPOKE ENTHUSIASTICALLY
of Emily's coming-out gown, and Claire sketched some possibilities. She settled on one with a keyhole neckline and short puffy sleeves with an empire waist.

“It's very unconventional,” Emily said, with a grin. “I shall love it!”

“
Unconventional
is part of my name,” Claire informed her. “You should hear the comments from the local men when I drive my uncle's motorcar! In fact, I had to leave it parked because two of John's friends made such a fuss.”

“You have a motorcar?” Maude asked. “Claire, I must see it! Can we go for a drive?”

“I wish it were possible,” Claire said wholeheartedly. “But if you come home with me…” She frowned. “On the other hand, how would Mrs. Dobbs know who you are? And John won't be at home. Yes, of course you can!”

Maude and Emily were both excited at the prospect
of a ride in Claire's automobile. Maude confided that she would love to have one of her own—and would persuade her husband to buy her one.

“Then you will truly have an excuse to visit, Claire,” Maude told the younger woman. “To help me learn how to work on it.”

“First I will have to join the local women's suffrage movement to keep the men out of my hair,” Claire said jokingly.

“Of course you will,” Maude said easily. “I belong to the Savannah chapter, and so does Emily. We are not content to sit by and let men make all the rules for us.”

Claire was intrigued by her husband's family. What a pity that she couldn't tell him so.

 

S
HE MANAGED TO GET
the motorcar out of the shed without rousing the entire neighborhood. Mrs. Dobbs was at home, but Claire made sure that no introductions were made. She kept her guests outside, near Evelyn's carriage, which waited for them half a block away. It was a tight squeeze to get herself and Maude and Emily all into the little two-seater, but they managed it. Claire cranked the machine and they went down the road and back again with squeals of delight. Fortunately they didn't meet a horse—and old Mr. Fleming, who lived on the corner, wasn't outside to yell threats of police action.

It wasn't until she'd parked the car again and surveyed the faintly greasy clothing of her guests that she realized she should have provided dusters.

“It's a messy business just now,” Claire said, apologizing.

“Yes, well, our clothing is dark and our faces will wash,” Maude assured her, with twinkling eyes. “Claire, what a marvelous invention! I must say, it's invigorating.”

“I think so, too,” Emily seconded.

Maude looked back at the rooming house where John and Claire lived. “I wish I could have seen John,” she said as she made her way to the waiting carriage.

“I wish you could have, too,” Claire said, embracing her and then Emily. “But at least we've met.”

“And we'll keep in touch, through Evelyn,” Maude said doggedly.

“Meanwhile, I'll work very hard on your dress, Emily,” Claire added, with a smile.

“Come and see us, if you ever can,” Maude said gently. “You would always be welcome, even without John.”

“I'll remember that. Have a safe journey home.”

“You take care, Claire.”

Maude signaled to the driver to take them back to Evelyn's house, and Claire went slowly inside after the carriage was out of sight. She was smudged with grease and dirt again, and it was a blessing that John would be working late.

She never questioned if he was seeing Diane somewhere in these long evenings when he didn't come home. She wasn't sure she could bear the answer.

It was inevitable that Mrs. Dobbs would mention Claire's guests over the evening meal.

“I had hoped that you might bring them inside, Claire,” Mrs. Dobbs said, with faint reprimand. “I had a cake nicely sliced and tea ready to pour.”

“They were already late for an engagement,” Claire said on a laugh. “I'm sorry, but there was no time. Evelyn had told them about my motorcar and they just had to see it for themselves.”

“Evelyn Paine?” John asked, frowning.

“Why, yes. She's frequently a guest here,” Mrs. Dobbs said smugly. “She comes with some of her friends to visit Claire.”

John eyed his wife with open curiosity. “So that was how you became so well acquainted with the cream of Atlanta society. You have them over for tea.”

“And they have me over for tea, as well,” Claire replied, stung by his faint sarcasm.

“Quite often,” Mrs. Dobbs seconded. “They're charming company.”

John put down his fork. “What a pity that you never thought to mention these visits to me,” he said calculatingly.

Her eyebrows rose. “When would you have been available for me to tell?” she asked. Mindful of Mrs. Dobbs's curious glance, she amended, “I mean, you work such long and late hours, John. And at night you're much too tired to speak of your day.”

“I expect those social evenings wear you out, don't they, Mr. Hawthorn?” Mrs. Dobbs asked pointedly. “My sister-in-law accompanied her husband to that gathering at the
Calversons' the night before last. I believe you were there alone. She thought it rather odd that a newly married man would attend any evening affair without his bride.”