Hank and Ellis had just begun to gather their things when the front door opened and Willie the Postie came in. He walked over to the fire.
“Good morning,” he said to Anna. “It’s a right dreich day.”
“Aye, that it is. I wish I could spend the whole of it by the fire,” she said, sighing. “But the fields don’t plow themselves.”
“You canna plow today—you’ll be drookit!” Although he assumed an angry face, I knew enough about his feelings for Anna to recognize this as a display of affection.
“I’ve a raincoat. If I get too wet, I’ll go in.”
“Make sure that you do,” he said, nodding sternly. “I’ve some letters for your guests. Well, a letter and a telegram, anyway.”
“They’re right over there,” Anna said, tilting her head at us as though Willie wouldn’t otherwise find us.
“And which one of you is Mr. Boyd?” he said, coming to the table.
Hank held out his hand, and Willie slapped a letter into it.
Even if the handwriting hadn’t been impeccable, and even if it didn’t still carry the faintest hint of Soir de Paris, the pale lavender of the Basildon Bond envelope would have given her away.
“Oh dear. It looks like my little songbird has finally tracked me down,” Hank said. He slid a knife beneath the flap. “Probably begging me to come home. Well, it won’t be long now, and then I suppose I’ll have to slide a ring on that pretty little du Pont finger of hers.”
As Hank pulled out Violet’s letter, Willie handed me the telegram. He held my gaze for long enough that I knew he was trying to tell me something. I took it with great reluctance.
“Well, go on, open it,” said Ellis.
I was motionless, clutching the telegram. I hadn’t thought the situation could get any worse, but apparently I was wrong. Ellis was about to find out that my father was dead, and also that I’d asked about getting a divorce.
Hank unfolded his letter and began reading.
“Well, if you’re not going to, I will,” said Ellis, snatching the telegram from my hands.
I covered my eyes. There were a few seconds of silence while they both read.
“What the hell? Your father died?” said Ellis. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Oh my God,” said Hank in a hollow voice.
“Oh my God!” shouted Ellis, slapping the table. “Holy shit, Maddie. We’re richer than Croesus. We’re richer than Hank! But only because you’re not a boy, and thank God we don’t have a boy, or we’d have had to name him after your grandfather, surname and all, just to access the interest, and then the whole damned thing would have gone to the kid on his twenty-first birthday. But it seems your grandfather wasn’t looking quite far enough ahead. Ha! You outwitted a robber baron, my brilliant, barren princess. Now we can buy our own house on Rittenhouse Square—the Colonel be damned!”
“She’s left me,” Hank said quietly. “She’s fucking well left me…”
I peeked through my hands. Hank was pallid, gaunt. Ellis was leaping around the room like an idiotic leprechaun. He’d left the telegram on the table. I picked it up and read it.
He was right. I got everything free and clear, but only because I was the sole heir. If there had been a male anywhere in the picture I would never have seen a cent, unless the male in question was my own son, in which case I would have been destitute the moment he came of age. The lawyer suggested we meet in person once I got back to the States, but there was no mention at all of a divorce. I realized that was what Willie was trying to tell me—that the telegram was safe to read in front of my husband.
I set the telegram on the table and looked up. Hank had me locked in his gaze. He looked puzzled. His eyes were wet.
“She’s dumped me, Maddie,” he said, shaking his head. “She’s going to marry Freddie. I don’t understand. How could she do this to me?” His expression switched abruptly, and he slammed the table. “Freddie! Damned Freddie! This must have been his plan all along! He wanted me out of the way so he could steal Violet out from under me! I’ll kill him, Ellis—I swear, I’ll kill him!”
He leapt up from the table as well, and suddenly Ellis was in front of him holding him by the shoulders.
“No, you won’t kill him,” Ellis said calmly and slowly. “We’re going to get our footage, and then we’re going to go home, and then we’ll be world famous, and then you’ll steal her back. That’s what we’re going to do.”
Hank stared into Ellis’s eyes for a long time, huffing and puffing like an enraged bull.
“Let’s get the hell on with it then,” he said.
“If you put it that way, I suppose I don’t have much choice, although I was enjoying a moment with my lovely, rich wife,” said Ellis. He put his coat on, then kissed me on the cheek. “Goodbye, my gorgeous golden goose. See you at dinner.”
When the door shut behind them, I was too stunned to move. Apparently so was Anna, who sat on the couch holding a serving spoon in one hand and a polishing cloth in the other.
Meg came through from the back, shaking her head in disgust. She went to the window and peered out at an angle, watching them walk away.