Chapter 9 #3
I veered left, narrowly missing another vase.
Footsteps clacked over the polished hardwood floor behind me, but I picked up my pace.
I couldn’t face them—couldn’t face the conversation inevitably waiting for me.
And yet wasn’t that the very reason I was here?
To find out more about what was happening with Julien, or had I been lying to myself?
Perhaps the truth was too painful. Perhaps I should leave well enough alone.
As panic bore down on me, I took in a sharp breath and suppressed my urge to flee.
“Ma’am? Ma’am, can I help you with something?” Jerry called after me.
I halted in my tracks, face flushed, and turned to the kindly butler, who had quickly shed his haughty and gruff demeanor once Evalyn had accepted me into her fold.
Eager not to appear ill at ease or fleeing Evalyn’s again, I scrambled for an excuse.
“I’ve just remembered I have another appointment today, and I’m on the verge of being late. ”
“Of course, ma’am.” He led me to the door to open it for me, and we nearly collided with Ned, who laughed heartily at the near mishap.
“Hello, Lizzie. How are you today?” Ned asked. He noticed my expression and frowned. “Are you all right? I know Evie’s friends can be intimidating at times, but they’re mostly a bunch of bored, silly women.”
I forced a polite smile. “I lost track of time is all. I forgot an appointment that I’ll be late for if I don’t make a run for it. The mint julep did me in, I’m afraid. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go.”
“Let me escort you.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised by his offer. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I can walk to the tram.”
“I insist,” he said. “I’m going into town anyway. It’s no trouble. Let me pull the car around. I’ll meet you out front.”
Heart racing from the turn Evalyn’s conversation had taken, I strode outside onto the porch.
I couldn’t stand it, listening to them discuss my brother so flippantly, as if he were an insignificant stranger.
Besides, I wouldn’t have time alone with Evalyn to talk about schedules with her party of friends, their manners and their attention span rapidly dissolving as the mint juleps continued to flow.
Jerry followed me out of doors. “Shall I give Mrs. McLean a message for you?”
“Please apologize for me, and tell her about my other appointment?” I said. “I’ll return tomorrow to work out the schedule and to do the first cleaning.”
“Of course, ma’am,” he replied, concern reflected in his kind eyes.
I wondered how much he knew about Julien or if Jerry believed the accidents were connected to the shadow of bad luck the Hope Diamond seemed to cast on all who were near it.
Scenes from the night of Julien’s death pushed at the wall I’d carefully constructed in my mind.
The squeal of tires, the screams, the blood.
I exhaled slowly, willing myself to remain calm, to focus on the front walk where I waited for Ned.
Moments later, he pulled up to the house in the same yellow car I’d ridden in once before.
As I slid inside it, the scent of his cologne rushed my senses: sandalwood and some floral note I didn’t recognize.
“You’re from Washington?” Ned asked as he steered us down the drive and into traffic.
“More or less,” I said. “My father is French, and I was originally born in a small town just north of Paris, but I’ve spent my entire life here.”
“Ah, now the jewelry makes sense. The French do admire beauty. I learned that while visiting Paris myself. Americans don’t really see things the same way, do they?
It’s all bigger and more and faster rather than an appreciation of the small, fine details of life.
I must admit, I do like that about being an American. ” He chuckled to himself.
I wasn’t sure how to answer so I didn’t. Instead, I said, “It’s kind of you to drive me. Thank you.”
“Any friend of Evie’s is a friend of mine.
” He smiled and I could see how Evalyn had fallen for him.
He had a gallant air about him but a deep intensity, too.
I wondered briefly how they had met. Their mutual fortunes, I assumed, put them directly into each other’s orbit: Ned, son of a self-made riverboat manufacturer as well as a newspaper mogul, and Evalyn, daughter of the most successful miner and owner of the largest gold mine in the United States.
Together, they made quite the pair. Though their fortune was vast, I’d heard they were big spenders—big enough to inspire a string of gossip that followed them in the newspapers and tabloids about their lavish parties, multiple homes, and extravagances from furniture to cars to racehorses.
After spending a little time in two of their homes, I could confirm the gossip to be true.
“Thank you,” I said simply.
“You’re Julien’s sister, right? I almost would have missed it. You two look nothing alike.”
A pang hit me, but I tried to remain calm, to not become too emotional. It was bad enough I’d fled Evalyn’s gathering for a second time. “Yes, I am. We’ve heard that a lot over the years.”
“He was a good man. Enjoyed the hell out of our time together. John Whitehall, Jet Wellington, Peter Willougby, and I, along with your brother, had become quite the band of compadres.”
I sat rigidly in my seat, surprised he’d shared the information so readily. “Really?”
“Sure, sure. He spent some time with the women, too, but that was usually to encourage them to part with their money.” He grinned.
I searched my memory for some recollection of Julien talking about Ned and the others.
I could only recall one thing about Ned, something about his love of gambling.
I glanced at him, studied the side of his face a moment before returning my eyes to the road.
If Julien had become friends with both the men and the women in Evalyn’s circles and everything was running along smoothly between them all, why had he become increasingly preoccupied and distant?
The circles under his eyes, the haunted look in his eyes.
There had to be more to the story. I watched as the trees receded in the distance and the buildings of downtown Washington took their place.
We took Connecticut to Rhode Island Avenue and continued eastbound until the redbrick homes of my neighborhood in Logan Circle came into view.
As we pulled up to my house, Ned said, “If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Evie is an accomplished hostess, but she can become rather caught up in the party sometimes. I’m always happy to rescue you.”
Uncertain of what he meant by a rescue, I replied with an honest thanks. “Thanks again for the ride home.”
He jumped out of the car, scooted around the side to open the door for me, and bowed. When he straightened, he said, “Have a good day, Miss Elisabeth Beaumont of Logan Circle.”
I flushed at his attention.
He grinned as he saw the deep blush color my cheeks. “Pretty in pink, I see. Well, until next time.”
I managed a polite smile.
Inside, I peeked through a slit in the curtain at the front window, watched him pull away from the curb and disappear into traffic. Was he always so kind and attentive? And the compliment he’d made… Did he truly find me attractive?
As I let the drapes sweep across the window and back into place, I shuttered the ridiculous thoughts of Ned McLean. That was a dangerous road upon which I didn’t want to travel.