nose.
The hour was finally over. Standing in the doorway next to Noelle, Constance waved to the Newcombes as their carriage pulled away. She had not failed to note the stubborn set of Noelle's jaw and was relieved that the rest of the visit had passed without incident. With the exception of her remark about the children, Noelle had been a model of graciousness. She had obviously smitten Robert and had even managed to draw Margaret into conversation. All in all, it had gone well, and Constance was pleased. Still, she had not been entirely sure of the success of the visit until Mildred Newcombe had put on her bonnet and whispered to Constance how extraordinary she thought it was that one raised in a heathen country could be so charming and well- mannered.
'Miss Pope, you minx, what a delight you were.' Constance hugged Noelle affectionately. 'Next time, however, I'm going to choose our callers more carefully. Faith, I had forgotten how dreadful Mildred can be.'
'Really, Constance, you surprise me.' Noelle's expression was mildly reproving. 'It's not like you to speak badly of someone who is suffering.'
'Suffering? What on earth do you mean? Mildred is hardly suffering.'
'Perhaps not now,' Noelle said, her eyes bright and guileless, 'but she certainly will be. I hope you will see that this is returned to her first thing in the morning. The poor dear won't be able to sleep a wink all night wondering what has happened to it.'
Into Constance's hand, Noelle slipped Mildred Newcombe's ruby and diamond bracelet.
Word of the Newcombes' visit spread through the countryside, and the two women found themselves deluged with callers and invitations. Within a fortnight Noelle had consumed countless cups of lukewarm tea and enough currant buns to satisfy even her voracious appetite. She discovered that most of Constance's acquaintances were genial people and making conversation with them, while not particularly inspiring, was also not very difficult. She discovered, too, that the men she met, whether young or old, were drawn to her like moths to a flame. They praised her beauty, her wit, her intelligence, and made themselves willing providers of her slightest whim.
As the weeks passed she began to toy with them, tentatively searching for the limits of her powers. She would flirt outrageously one day, only to ignore her unhappy victim the next. Still, they flocked to her, spellbound by her uncommon beauty.
Constance made the painful decision that Noelle must begin to accept some of the invitations she received from them despite the fact that she was legally a married woman. If it ever became known, the scandal would be ruinous, but Constance felt she had no choice. A young woman as beautiful as Noelle could not remain sequestered from male company without arousing suspicion and dangerous conjecture.
Constance watched as Noelle began to accept invitations and tried to come to terms with the changes in her life. She was well aware of the animosity the young women in the neighborhood were directing at Noelle and, in truth, could not find it in her heart to blame them overmuch. The exquisite Miss Dorian Pope had created a sensation, and they were not at all pleased to see their favorite beaux so distracted.
One morning Noelle found Constance in the greenhouse, arranging cut flowers in a vase of black basalt. 'Robert Newcombe is pressing me to attend a picnic with him in two weeks. What do you think?' She handed Constance a white, long-stemmed blossom.
'Not a delphinium, dear. Give me that gladiola.'
Noelle placed the proper flower in Constance's gloved hand.
'I don't see why you shouldn't attend. Robert is a sweet boy. Who is to chaperon?'
'George and Emma Simpson are back from their honeymoon and have agreed to accompany us, if you can imagine those two as chaperons.' She tossed her comely head disdainfully. 'They wouldn't notice if lightning struck in front of their noses. I've never seen anything as silly as the way they ogle each other.'
'They're in love, Noelle. You mustn't be so cynical.'
'I'm just being realistic, Constance. Besides, I don't really believe in love. It's just a charming invention of the poets.'
'Now, there you are wrong, my dear,' Constance said, her features hidden from Noelle's view as she turned away to pick up another flower. 'It does exist, and it is magical.'
The memory of that long-ago day in London when Simon Copeland had said almost those exact words came back to Noelle. Swiftly, she planted a light kiss on Constance's cheek.
'Forgive me; I'm being a cynic. It's just that it can never happen to me.'
Constance put the final flower in the vase and then stepped back to examine the finished bouquet. At last she removed her gloves and turned her attention to Noelle, a frown puckering her forehead.
'Noelle, you have been with me for over a year now. Simon should be returning to England next month, and soon you will be leaviaig to take your place with him in London.' She hesitated. 'Are you happy with your new life?'
Noelle's eyes widened. 'How could I not be? I have more than I ever dreamed possible, and you've been wonderful to me.'
'I've loved having you with me, Noelle. You've been like the daughter I never had. But, lately, as I've watched you, I confess I've been concerned.'
'About what?'
'I detect a certain-for lack of a better word, I can only call it -callousness in your attitude toward the gentlemen who are so smitten by you. If it were any other girl, I would just assume she was insensitive to the feelings of others. But you are not a shallow person, Noelle. It seems unlike you to behave so. Why? What do you hope to achieve?'
Touched by the deep concern she saw etched on Constance's face, Noelle said, 'I have upset you, haven't I? I'm sorry, Constance. I wouldn't hurt you for the world. You're correct, I have been behaving badly.'
Noelle framed her words carefully. 'It's as if I were an actress and this, my dress rehearsal.'
'Your preparation for London?'
'No, Constance, my preparation for Quinn Copeland.'
'Quinn?'
'As long as I continue to maintain contact with his father, I realize I'm also making myself accessible to him. I suppose I've been testing my new powers. Finding out what they are and how to use them. If I meet him again, I must be ready.'
Constance reached out and put a hand on Noelle's arm. 'You cannot know how it distresses me to hear you talk like this. What Quinn did was unforgivable, but you must stop all these foolish thoughts of revenge. Noelle, I have known Quinn since he was a boy. I care deeply about him, but I warn you, he is a dangerous enemy.'
'I underestimated him once, Constance. I'll not do it again.'
'Noelle, do not attempt to toy with him as you have with the others.'
Noelle put a small hand to Constance's worried cheek. 'I know you mean well, Constance, but I must live my life in my own way. Please don't worry. I can take care of myself.' With a smile that was meant to be reassuring, she left the greenhouse.
Constance shook her head sadly. 'That pride of yours, Noelle, is going to be your undoing.'
Chapter Twelve
Three mornings later an envelope lay on Constance's breakfast tray beside her cup of chocolate. It was addressed to her in Simon's familiar handwriting. Constance tore it open, her eyes flying over the single page.
My Dear Constance,
I returned last evening to Northridge Square. There are some pressing matters to which I must give my immediate attention, but I hope to be free to travel to Sussex on Friday next as I am most anxious to see both you and N. If I do not hear from you, I will assume this is satisfactory.
Simon
Constance felt a curious weakness come over her. Her hands trembled slightly as she returned Simon's note to its envelope. It was only excitement, she told herself, for she had never informed Simon about the startling change in Noelle's appearance, preferring to let him see for himself. Now she was anxious for him to meet his beautiful daughter-in-law.
