Read There is always love Online
Authors: Emilie Baker Loring
It came again as she ran up the broad stairs to shed her snowy ski suit before dinner. How could a man as keen as Keith Sanders make a mistake in the door? She entered her lighted room. Who was the woman by the desk? It wasn't— It was—
"Libbyl What have you done to yourself?" Surprise dou-132
bled her knees. She sank into a chair. "You've—^had a haircut and a permanent" she accused, as she took in the import of the plastered waves and flat pepper-and-salt curls. "You've spoiled yourself."
"What do you mean 'spoiled/ Lindy Bourne?" Miss Hull complacently regarded her changed appearance in the mirror. 'That's a great way to talk when, what with one thing and another, I spent hours waiting in a hairdressing place that was open last evening!" She patted the stiff curls. "I guess it will look a httle more natural when it wears soft, but I paid twenty dollars for it and I didn't dare risk combing it out."
"Twenty doUarsI Spendthrift. They cheated you."
"Well, if I've been cheated I ain't going to let it spoil my good time. Ruthetta's dressed. She sent me to help you. I guess you earn your pay, Lindy. You 'bout run this big house, don't you? Here, let me pull them wet boots off."
Linda relaxed in the deep chair. Beneath her brusqueness, Libby was a dear. She was tired. She hadn't slept last night and the day had been strenuous, with a tree for young Mr. Colton after breakfast, one for the servants after luncheon and the "Snow White" picture for the child and the maids in the afternoon. The film operator was sta5ang over to show "Union Pacific," which was to foUow the grown-up tree after dinner.
"The housekeeper and I run it imder Madam Steele's direction. She has her hand on every switch in this house. Start my bath, will you, like a dear?'*
"Sure."
Liberty Hull returned from the dressing room armed with brushes. "Sit down, Lindy. I'U brush your hair. You look kinder tuckered out."
"Tuckered!" Linda sank into a chair before the mirror in the bedroom. "I'm all in. Glad you're having such a grand holiday, Libby. What have you been domg?" Not that she really cared, but conversation kept her from repeating mentally Greg's cool "Good morning, Linda," at breakfast, kept her from seeing him skiing with Hester, skating with Hester, dancing to radio music with Hester, kept her from remembering her mother's complacent smile as she looked on.
"Did I pull?"
She shook her head in answer to Libby's concerned eyes in the mirror. Had she winced at memories?
"What with one thing and another I've been doing a little of everything," Miss Hull answered her question complacently. "Made the hard sauce for the plum puddings. Would you believe it, Mr. Buff whispered to me that Madam
Steele said the cook's always made her think of the sand pies she used to make as a chDd." She bridled with pride. "Mine was as smooth as whipped cream."
"I know your sauce, Libby. It's a dream. What else did you do?" The woman's voice was soothing. While it flowed on she couldn't think.
"I helped Mr. Greg and Mr. Buff hang the mistletoe and **
"Where, Libby?"
"Sit down and face the mirror again. How can I brush your hair if you go to twistin'? I promised I wouldn't tell. But there's lots of it an' in the most unexpected places too. You watch out if you don't want to get kissed—by the wrong person."
"Perhaps I don't want to be kissed by anyone."
"Tell that to the Marines, Lindy Bourne. I will say, though, it's high time you made up your mind as to Mr. Right. There! Your hair shines like a burnished copper saucepan. What dress you goin' to wear?" Her voice came from the depths of the wardrobe.
"The gold-net skirt and the scarlet jacket. It looks Christ-masy. Toss me the gold sandals." The crystal clock on the dressing case chimed. "Glory, I'll be late. Get out the rhine-stone and pearl clips from the Chinese box in the other room will you, Libby, while I'm taking my tub?" She disappeared into the dressing room and plunged into a bubble bath.
"My, ain't you got a lot of pretty jewelry?" Libby pitched her voice to carry. "I guess these are them clips you want Will you wear any bracelets? Sakes alive, haven't you got a lot of 'em. Why, come in, Mrs. Colton. Lindy's in the tub. Shall I tell her . . ."
Linda heard the murmur of Janet's voice. Then the door closing.
"Libby, what did Mrs. Colton want?" she called.
"She jest come in to ask if you had an extra Christmas tag she needed for a package. I gave her one on your desk. I must have looked like the Queen of Sheba with my hands just dripping rhinestone bracelets. They're awful pretty. I guess what with one thing an' another, Mrs. Colton ain't very well. I hear her husband's kind of a philanderer. Come to think of it, perhaps 'tain't that. I wouldn't be surprised if there was another baby comin' to town. Kinder looks that way. She was white as a ghost when she went out. You'd better hop out of the tub if you calculate to be ready for dinner, Lindy."
"I'm out. It was marvelous. I'm fresh as a daisy. On top of the world.
" 'The inner side of every cloud is bright and shining, 134
Therefore I turn my clouds about And always wear them inside out, To show the lining.' "
She laughed as she finished chanting the verse.
"That was Dad's philosophy of life, Libby, though Doctor Oliver Wendell Hohnes thought of it first. I've given my silver lining an extra rub and now it's bright side out."
"Your father was a fine man, Lindy. High-hearted like you. I remember once . . • Someone's knocking. I'll go see who 'tis.'*
"She's dressing. You can't see her now," libby protested at the door of the boudoir.
"Who says I can't see her? You're sure putting on airs in this house. Miss Hull.^' Maggie's face was redder than usual, and that was red enough. Her nose wrinkled with disdain as she brushed by and saw Linda in the room beyond.
"Oh, there you are. Miss Bourne. Please may I speak to you private? It's something terrible important."
"Come in here. Close the door." Linda paused in the act of drawing on a gossamer stocking. "What is it, Maggie?" The maid looked to right and left and behind her.
"It's my sister. It's Annie, Miss," she whispered.
"Annie! Has she come back?" Maggie nodded. Her eyes popped like a Boston Bull's. "Does anyone know she's here?"
"Nobody but me. Miss. She's in my room. She's been hidin' in the woods since noon, waitin' fer it to get dark. Every one of us maids is going to a ball in the village as soon as we get through clearin' up dinner—^we've been talkin' of it for weeks—^so 'twill be safe enough for Annie to come out then."
"Did anyone—a man, come with her?'*
"Do you mean that Cline fella? I always had the feelin' that he was a bad egg, but Annie was mushy about him. She sneaked him into this house one day when the Madam was away, said he'd never seen the inside of a big house and would like to just once. She didn't count on his having a camera and takin' pictures. She was scared, I guess, made him promise he'd never let on he had 'em."
"When was that?"
"Now you're scared. It was a couple of months ago. Didn't amount to nothing. She came alone today. Says she's got to see you. It's a matter of life an' death. An' will you meet her somewhere private soon's you can after dinner?"
"Privater
"Yes, Miss. She says *twon't be safe for either of you if you're seen together." She wrung her hands. "I'm scared for her, an' for you. Miss."
Not safe. Had Annie brought news of Cline? How had he used those snapshots? She must talk with her. Where? She had it. She opened the drawer of the green-lacquer chiffonier.
"Come here, Maggie," she whispered. "Give Annie this key. Tell her I'll meet her in the room on the third floor where she helped me with the envelopes. Tell her to leave the key in the door to the stairway. I'll slip away while the picture is being shown in the billiard room. I won't be missed in the dark. I may be late but I'll get there."
"Don't fail her, Miss. I'd stay an' help, but she said that would be a giveaway. She acted kind of wildlike. Muttered something 'bout ten o'clock. Said somethin' terrible would happen if you didn't come 'fore then."
XXVI
THEY were all in the long drawing room, the room with the pale-green Louis XIV furniture, the white-and-gold and mirror-paneled walls, and the yellow-damask hangings, A massive spruce towered at one end. It shook out spicy scent and a melodic tinkle with every current of air, glittered with silver tinsel and shining balls, twinkled with a himdred lights iji every tint and shade of the color spectrum. From the radio poured the music of woodwinds and shimmering, brilliant, singing strings in the rhythm of a Strauss waltz. Keith Sanders looked down at Linda as they danced. His arm about her tightened.
"Come out of your dream. You appear to be in a state of suspended animation, Lindy."
Just as if his midnight entrance into her room hadn't contributed to her preoccupation. That and planning to steal away without being missed to meet Annie in the storeroom were running her mind ragged.
"How can I help feeling that this lavish Christmas must be a dream?" she countered lightly. "It's as unbelievable as Cinderella and the Pumpkin Coach. Cast your eye on this gorgeous thing, then pinch me that I may be sure I'm really seeing it."
They stopped dancing near the tree. She held out her right hand. On the third finger sparkled the diamond setting of an emerald ring which extended from second to third joint Sanders whistled under his breath.
"Our hostess certainly took the lock off her jewel box tonight. Gave each one of her women guests a sample, didn't she?"
"Yes. There's no reason why she shouldn't have given that 136
pair of diamond daisy pins, with the yellow-diamond centers, to Janet—she's a relation—but to count Ruth, my family, and me in the jewel shower is unbelievable. It's like an Arabian Nights* tale. It was too much for us to accept but had we protested it would have spoiled her Christmas."
"Sounds kind of screwy to me."
"Screwy! Don't you recognize extraordinary thoughtfulness when you see it, Keith? She said she wanted to see her treasures worn and enjoyed while she was alive. This is my dream ring. It is the first piece of real jewelry I ever owned.'*
"When you come to think of it why shouldn't she distribute them? She has plenty more. According to your say-so, a diamond mine in South Africa is a piker in comparison to what she has stored in those lacquer cabinets upstairs. Look here—" his voice had changed abruptly from amusement to concern—"you haven't told anyone I blundered into your room last night, have you?"
Linda's eyes went past him, followed Bill Colton and Hester, Greg and Ruth, Skid and Janet as they danced. Judge Reynolds and her mother were doing the polka which at long last had come into fashion again. How soon could she meet Annie?
"You haven't, have you?" he persisted.
Her attention came back to him. "Of course I haven't."
"You wouldn't try to fool me, would you?" His hand gripped her wrist, his eyes were hard as blue rock.
'7 fool you! It just couldn't be done." She freed her hand. "Is it likely I would broadcast a mistake like that? Besides, I've had too many things of real importance to think of today. We're not being very polite to our hostess, Keith. She is sitting by herself, looking like a queen in white velvet and those gorgeous rubies, but living over the tragic past, I judge by the ironic line of her mouth, while the rest of us are having fun. Let's get the picture started. She'll adore this one. 'Union Pacific' is old but she asked for it because her grandfather was a railroad builder. I must speak to Buff about the snack she wants served after it. Every servant on the estate but he—^he preferred to see the picture—^has gone to a dance in the village."
"Wish you and I were going. It's one night in a million." He pushed back the yellow-damask hangings and unlocked the long French window near which they were standing. Opened it wide. "Look! Let's you and I beat it, go for a ride. I've got something special to say to you. I'll never get a chance in this mob."
For the length of a lightning flash Linda hesitated. Why not? If she went, she wouldn't suffer the intolerable hurt of Greg's devotion to Hester, she wouldn't have to hear Annie's
sob-story about her boy friend. "Quitter!" she flouted herself and drew a deep breath of the cold, clear air.
"It's perfect. The world glitters like a frosted Christmas card. Perfect as it is, I can't desert the party. I must go at once and order the snack. My word, as if we could eat again after that dinner."
"How long will it take?" He caught her hand as she started to leave him. She laughed and twisted free.
"I've never measured the distance between here and the butler's pantry in time, but I'll be in the front row for the picture. Hunt up the operator, please. Close the window and draw the hangings before you go. Madam Steele believes that uncovered lighted windows attract trouble.*'
"What you say goes. You are a movie fan, you're fairly jittery with excitement. Don't worry. I won't start the picture till you and Buff come in."
"The show will be on in a few minutes," Linda encouraged Madam Steele as she passed. On the threshold of the hall a hand with a green signet ring gripped her shoulder. So far she had successfully evaded Ungering under the bunch of mistletoe hung above it. The color flew to her face as she looked up and met Greg Merton's determined eyes. Much as she wanted him to kiss her, she didn't want it this way. He shook his head, glanced up briefly.
"No. It isn't what you think it is. Tve got to talk to you. Come to the library."
"Can't now. I must find Buff."
"Not yet. Come on before the others notice us. Make it snappy."
"Mr. Merton in the Dictator mood," she mocked, before she crossed the flagged hall with him. Would she ever get to Annie? Her breath caught as Maggie's words echoed through her mind.
"Don't fail her. Miss. She acted kind of wildlike. Muttered something about ten o'clock. Said somethin' terrible would happen if you didn't come before then." The clock was striking nine-thirty now.
"What's the matter?" Greg Merton demanded as they reached the fireplace end of the library. "You act as if you thought I was going to beat you?"