Voice of the Heart
‘Don’t be so silly, Katharine,’ Francesca replied swiftly, returning the smile. ‘I’m sure Daddy understands your reasons now, as we all do. In my opinion this is just a storm in a teacup.’ Francesca flopped down onto a chair and began to fiddle abstractedly with the belt of her cotton sundress. Without realizing it, preoccupied as she was with her feelings of guilt, the worries flaring within her, Francesca had spoken sharply, a trifle dismissively.
Katharine, misinterpreting her friend’s tone, felt unusually rebuffed and hurt. She stared at Francesca nonplussed, thinking, with a tinge of bitterness: She doesn’t really understand what my life’s been like. And how could she? All of her life she’s been surrounded by people who adore her… Kim and her father, her cousins; the old Nanny, Melly, and the housekeeper, Val. And soon she’ll have a stepmother. I have nobody. Nobody in this whole wide world. I’ve only ever had one person who loved me. Momma.
Abruptly, Katharine placed the champagne glass on the coffee table and stood up purposefully. She said softly, ‘Now that I have told you everything, I guess there’s nothing else for me to say. I’d better go up to my room and pack at once. I’ll ’phone Victor at La Reserve, and ask him to get me a room there for a couple of nights. He’ll be upset if I don’t stay for his party. I’ll go back to London on Monday.’
Kim cried, ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Katharine. I’m not going to let you stay in a hotel, much less permit you to return to London.’ He sprang to his feet, took her arm possessively, stared at his father. ‘Surely Katharine can be forgiven, Dad. The experiences of her childhood, her humiliation and unhappiness at school… all exonerate her as far as I’m concerned. Despite my initial anger and hurt, I do feel there have been mitigating circumstances. Granted she shouldn’t have perpetuated the he when she became involved with me, but earlier Katharine said she’d planned to confide in me this weekend, had been wanting to do so for a long time. I believe her. I also think she’s been put through quite an ordeal this afternoon. My God, she’s had to face us all, and explain her entire life, as though she were appearing before the Inquisition. Isn’t a little compassion in order now?’
Pulling himself out of his troubled thoughts, David said, ‘Of course, of course, Kim.’ He inclined his head in Katharine’s direction. ‘I think your frankness has cleared the air considerably, given us a better perspective about you and your background, a real understanding of your motivation. Yes.’ He cleared his throat, looked at Doris. ‘I’m sure I speak for you too, darling, when I say we wouldn’t hear of Katharine going to a hotel, or curtailing her vacation. I am right, am I not?’
‘Absolutely,’ Doris said at once. ‘We’ll be very upset if you leave, Katharine.’
Francesca exclaimed fiercely, ‘Oh Kath, don’t be a silly goose! You can’t go. We all love you, and we’ve been so looking forward to having you with us. I told you, this will all blow over, if you’ll let it. Please do stay.’
‘I don’t know…’ Katharine responded cautiously, and hesitated. Her eyes swept over them and came to rest on Kim, who was looking tense and nervous. She touched his arm lightly, and her face upturned to his was soft and appealing in its vulnerability. ‘I’ll stay then, if you’re sure you want me.’
‘Of course we want you!’ he responded, squeezing her arm.
The Earl of Langley rose slowly from the sofa, smiling benignly despite his sinking heart. ‘It’s getting rather late, and our guests will be arriving shortly. I think we’d better dress for dinner.’
‘My God, the dinner party. I’d forgotten.’ Doris was on her feet and following him across the floor. She turned at the door. ‘The Remsons and the Brooks are due around eight. Dinner’s at nine, in the garden.’
Francesca exclaimed, ‘Gosh, and I’ve got to wash my hair.’ Rising, she blew a kiss to Katharine, then hurried out.
***
Half an hour later, after they had bathed and dressed in their evening clothes, Doris and the Earl met in the small sitting room which linked their suites, as they had previously arranged.
‘It was a little difficult when we came upstairs,’ he said, fighting a cigarette, positioning himself in the middle of the floor. ‘I really didn’t want to get involved in a long discussion in front of Francesca. Or with her, as she was hoping.’ He peered at his watch. ‘But we have a good fifteen minutes to chat before our guests get here.’ He began to walk up and down, his head bent, thinking deeply.
Doris watched him, said nothing, knowing better than to start prodding him; nor did she have the desire to play devil’s advocate, or say anything to influence him.
David stopped pacing, joined her on the long sofa in front of the windows. ‘Well, Doris, what are your thoughts about the situation? About Katharine?’
‘I have to admit I felt a bit sorry for her, and I’m sure she did have an unhappy time of it, after her mother died,’ Doris replied, trying to be fair yet noncommittal.
‘Quite so, my dear. I don’t doubt the veracity of her story for one minute. Katharine’s no fool, quite a clever little thing, really. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to pile more lies on top of her original untruths…’
‘But?’
‘I didn’t say but,’ he smiled.
‘You thought it though, darling.’
‘Yes. How well you know me, Doris.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘Actually, when I was dressing, I couldn’t help asking myself how much she had exaggerated, dramatized.’
‘Don’t you believe her father hates her then?’ Doris asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘Hard to say really. However, Katharine believes it. I’m absolutely convinced of that, so whatever anyone else thinks is immaterial.’ David leaned back, crossed his legs, shot Doris a questioning glance. ‘What do you know about O’Rourke?’
‘Not a great deal, David. As I told Katharine, I’ve never met him. We mixed in different social circles in Chicago. He used to wield a lot of power in the city, because of his money and his political connections, chiefly his closeness to Richard Daley, who runs the city, Cook County and the Democratic Machine. I’m sure his power hasn’t waned. Years ago I heard a rumour about him being something of a womanizer—he’s a very handsome man. But there’s no scandal attached to his name, to my knowledge anyway. Of course you never know about men like him… self-made, ambitious, driven, and a little ruthless.’ Doris laughed dryly. ‘A lot ruthless, I should say. I’m also sure he was strict with Katharine, even tyrannical as a father. I know the type, as I’m sure you do.’
‘Mmmmm.’ David contemplated, puffed on his cigarette. ‘Kim is acting on emotion not intelligence right now, and I understand why. Katharine is a bewitching creature with an inordinate amount of charm.’ A tiny smile surfaced wryly. ‘She’s persuasive, and yes, plausible. Let’s face it, Doris, there’s nothing more appealing than the little orphan girl story. That’s probably the reason she invented it for herself. One would have to be frightfully hard boiled not to succumb to it… certainly it’s guaranteed to evoke everyone’s sympathy and compassion. I know there was a moment when she really had me. So naturally, the extraordinary reversal in Kim’s attitude didn’t surprise me at all, in spite of his initial anger, the things he said to us before she arrived. Kim’s awfully softhearted, my dear, and so is Francesca. I realize they’re both bending over backwards to make excuses for Katharine’s behaviour, perhaps against their better judgment. Curious, isn’t it, how they are equally mesmerized by her?’
‘Yes.’ Doris gave him a long look, asked quietly, ‘What do you intend to do about Kim and Katharine?’
‘Nothing.’
‘But, David—’
‘I’ve no intention of intervening,’ he broke in peremptorily. ‘By doing that I would push Kim into her arms, and the consequences could be dire. Forbidden fruit always tastes so much sweeter, you know.’ David studied Doris, detecting her uncertainty, and he reached out and patted her hand. ‘If I say anything critical about Katharine, or their relationship, I’ll antagonize my son. He’s
in love and not thinking straight. Also, in some ways he’s holding the whip hand. He knows there’s no course of action I could take. I can’t very well threaten to disinherit him, because the law of primogeniture protects him absolutely. No, all I can do is trust him to use his intelligence.’
Observing the troubled expression dulling the vivid greenness of her eyes, David moved closer, put his arms around Doris. ‘Now listen to me, my darling, we mustn’t go around with long faces, or behave strangely with Kim and Katharine. We must play this in a light key, a very light key indeed. You see, I believe that by giving him his head, not obstructing their relationship, Kim will eventually comprehend things more clearly, and see Katharine in a different light, the way I do now.’
‘And how do you see her, David?’ Doris asked, pulling away, looking into his face.
‘As being unstable.’
‘Unstable?’
‘Yes, amongst other things. Katharine Tempest is a highly complex person, Doris. She’s a raving beauty who can turn a man’s head with the flutter of an eyelash, an incredibly gifted actress who can move an audience to tears, be it in a theatre or in that sun room downstairs. She is entirely fascinating. She’s also a curiously disturbed young woman, unbalanced, in my opinion. Clever, as I said earlier, but dangerous.’
Doris sat mulling over his words, aware that he never made rash statements. ‘My God, David, I feel alarmed all of a sudden—for Kim.’
‘Yes, I know exactly what you mean. I experienced that same feeling earlier, but not any more.’ He shook his head firmly, and although his face was serious his voice was suddenly shaded by confidence and lightness. ‘I know what I raised. Kim has his feet on the ground. My instincts tell me that in the end he will fall back on the precepts of his upbringing. They may be slightly blurred in his mind right now, but they’re so deeply ingrained he will never lose them. In a sense they protect him, and if he doesn’t live by them he will be an extremely unhappy man. I know he knows this, deep down inside, and I have to gamble that my son will put duty and responsibility before this girl.’
‘Yes,’ Doris said quietly, hoping he was right. She squeezed his hand, gave him a reassuring smile.
‘There’s another thing. When all the fuss dies down, and Kim starts to think with his head instead of with his—’ He broke off, coughed behind his hand. ‘Er—er—with other parts of his anatomy, he’ll begin to wonder if he can really trust her. I’m also quite certain he will understand that she is hardly cut out to be a farmer’s wife, stuck away in the backwaters of Yorkshire.’ A mischievous gleam entered his eyes. ‘As you are,’ he teased. David jumped up, offered Doris his hand. ‘Now, let’s close this book for tonight. We should go down, my dear. It’s almost eight.’
As David opened the door, Doris said, ‘You do have time on your side, darling. Don’t forget, Katharine is leaving for California at the beginning of September. She’ll be gone for three months.’
‘Oh yes,’ he said quietly. His eyes narrowed and he nodded his head slowly. ‘Don’t think I haven’t taken that fact into consideration.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
Nicholas Latimer burst into Victor’s suite at La Réserve without knocking or announcing himself. He sprinted across the floor at breakneck speed, almost knocking over an occasional table in the process, and stumbled into the bedroom. He was flushed and out of breath.
‘Jesus Christ! You’re not even dressed!’ he gasped, staring wild eyed at Victor.
Victor stared back at him, a brow lifting lazily. He was standing in the middle of the floor, wearing only his underpants, black knee-length socks, his dress shirt and black tie. ‘What the hell’s got into you?’ he asked mildly, put down the cigarette he was smoking and reached for the Scotch and soda on the dressing table.
Nick leapt across the floor, snatched the drink out of his hand with little ceremony, and cried heatedly, ‘You don’t need this now, you can drink as much as you want when we get to the dance. Just get dressed. For God’s sake get dressed. We gotta get outta here. Pronto!’
‘What’s the hurry all of a su—’
‘You’re not going to believe this, but Arlene’s downstairs. In living Technicolor, standing in—’
‘Aw shucks, Nicky, and she’s catching me with my pants down again,’ Victor cracked, the famous lopsided grin settling on his mouth. He lifted the cigarette out of the ashtray, drew on it, stubbed it out. ‘Don’t I have the lousiest luck.’
‘You bet you do, old buddy. Please, Vic, get the rest of your clothes on. She’s going to be up here in a couple of minutes, dragging her two-goddamn-dozen suitcases and six-goddamn-bellboys with her. Jesus, come on!’ He banged the glass down on the dressing table, his eyes sweeping the room as he did. He spotted Victor’s pants on the chair, grabbed them frantically, threw them at him.
As he caught his pants, Victor’s face changed. He suddenly realized this was not one of Nick’s usual jokes, that his friend was not playing the fool. He said slowly, ‘Christ, you are serious, and I thought you were kidding.’
‘Would I kid about her arrival on our goddamn doorstep. Where’s your jacket, your shoes?’
‘In the armoire.’ Victor pulled on his pants, zipped them swiftly, took the black silk handkerchief from the chest of drawers, folded it with haste. ‘When did you see her, Nicky?’
‘A few minutes ago. Hurry up, for God’s sake. Here’s your shoes.’ Nick dropped them at his feet, stood holding the white dinner jacket. ‘What a rotten lousy break. Tonight of all nights. I was with Jake in the lobby. He was changing some large bills at the caisse. I happened to glance through the front door, saw her getting out of a car. With all this goddamn luggage. She looks as if she’s moving in. I sent Jake to stall her. Somehow… God knows how, while I rushed up here. Vic, come on! Leave the cigarettes, the money. You don’t need money, for Christ’s sake.’ Nick bundled Victor into his jacket, seized his arm, dragged him to the window. ‘We gotta go out this way.’
‘You crazy son of a bitch! I stopped doing my own stunts years ago!’ Victor shouted, glowering at him. ‘And let go of my arm. You’re going to rip my dinner jacket.’
The window was open, and Nick pushed it farther back and peered down. ‘It’s not so bad. Come on, let’s jump. You go first.’
Victor leaned over Nick’s shoulder, also looking out. ‘You are a crazy bastard,’ he groaned. ‘It’s a twenty-foot drop. At least.’
‘But it’s grass!’
‘Grass or no grass, I could break my back, my legs, at worst.’
‘That’s better than having your balls broken, isn’t it, old sport? And I guarantee that’s her intention. She’s here to do her usual little number on—’
There was a loud knocking on the sitting room door, and they gazed at each other in dismay. The knocking increased. ‘She’s here, right enough,’ Victor muttered. ‘I guess she went through poor old Jake like a dose of salts.’
‘Yep.’ Nick grabbed Victor’s arm again. ‘You’ve still got a chance to elude her, if you go thatta way.’ He indicated the window. ‘I’ll try to stall her.’
‘Forget it, kid.’
‘Then we’d better fasten our seat belts, maestro. We’re in for a helluva rocky ride tonight.’
Victor was halfway across the floor. He swung his head, frowned, whispered, ‘Not you, Nicky. I’ll deal with Arlene. I want you to go on up to Zamir with Jake. And play it cool. For God’s sake don’t let Francesca know that Arlene’s arrived. It’ll throw her into a flat spin. Make some sort of excuse, explain I’ll be a bit late. Delayed by—a business call from the Coast. Look, say anything—’
The door of the suite opened, and Arlene walked in self-confidently. ‘Hello, Victor,’ she said, waving at him. ‘I would’ve called you, darling, but I decided to surprise you.’
‘I’m too old to be surprised by anything,’ he replied as evenly as possible, curbing his temper. He stepped into the sitting room and eyed, with some alarm, the luggage being carried in by two uniformed b
ellboys. He turned to Nick, hovering behind him in the doorway of the bedroom and said, ‘There’s money on the dressing table, kid. Can you get it for me, please?’
Nick ignored the request, reached into his trouser pocket, pulled out some francs, tipped the boys. When they had left, Nick studied Arlene with interest through blue eyes icy with hostility and remarked sarcastically, ‘For someone who’s only passing through, you certainly travel heavy.’ He jabbed a finger at the suitcases surrounding her, his face sour with disgust. ‘Who the hell do you think you are? The Queen of Sheba?’
‘As charming as ever, dear Nicholas,’ she replied with a cold smile. ‘Written any good books lately? Or are you too busy with the ladies?’ His only response was a disdainful glance. Arlene giggled fatuously and added, ‘Well, how is the great genius of American literature?’
‘I was feeling pretty good… until a few minutes ago.’
She simply smiled again and glided across the floor to the sofa. She sat down, crossed her long beautiful legs, smoothed the skirt of her cream shantung silk suit. Her eyes swung from Nick to Victor, ‘My, my, don’t you both look handsome. And white dinner jackets, no less. Where’s the party?’
‘That’s none of your goddamn busi—’
Victor threw Nick a warning look, cut him off hurriedly. ‘We’re not going to a party, Arlene. Sorry to disappoint you. We were just about to leave for a business dinner, strictly stag.’
‘I’ll bet,’ Arlene said.
Nicholas moved quickly to the bar, poured himself a vodka and took a swift swallow. He stole a glance at Victor, who was motionless in the centre of the floor. He marvelled at his self-containment, knowing his friend was seething inside and undoubtedly ready to do violence. Nick racked his brains, wondering how to ease him out of this unanticipated situation; ease him out of the room, out of the hotel and up to the Villa Zamir. But there was no escape hatch, at least not at the moment. Familiar as he was with Arlene’s tenacity and intransigence, not to mention her thick skin, he knew without question that she would insist on joining them if they made a move to leave. God forbid, he thought, envisioning Francesca’s face if they arrived at the dance with Arlene. Nick shifted on his feet, his nervousness increasing as the minutes dragged by. The silence grew heavier, the atmosphere more taut.