My arms went about him, angry because Bart refused to give him the credit he deserved for handling that vast fortune for so many years, and doing a darn good job of it, too, despite his medical practice that stole so much of his time.
"How many millions will he inherit?" I asked. "Twenty, fifty, more? One billion, two, three-- more?"
Chris laughed. "Oh, Catherine, you never grow up. You always exaggerate. To be honest, it's difficult to calculate the net worth of all those holdings when they are scattered into so many areas of investments. However, he should be pleased when his attorneys give a rough estimate . . . it's more than enough for ten greedy young men."
In the foyer we paused to watch Jory rehearsing with Cindy, both hot and sweaty from all their efforts. Other dancers who'd be in the ballet were with them, standing around idly, either watching Jory and Cindy or staring around at what they could see of the fabulous house. Cindy was doing exceptionally well, and that truly surprised me; imagine keeping up her ballet classes and not telling me. She must have used some of her allowance meant for clothes and cosmetics and other trivial things she was always needing.
One of the older dancers strolled over to me, smiling as she spoke of seeing me dance a few times in New York. "Your son is very much like his father," she w
ent on, glancing back at Jory, who was whipping himself up into such a passion I wondered if he'd have any energy left for tonight's performance. "Maybe I shouldn't say this, but he's ten times better. I was only about twelve when you and Julian Marquet danced in The Sleeping Beauty, but it was the inspiration that gave me the desire to become a dancer myself, Thank you for giving us another wonderful dancer like Jory Marquet."
What she said filled me with happiness. My marriage to Julian hadn't been a total failure when it had produced Jory. Now I had to believe
Bartholomew Winslow's son would eventually fill me with just as much pride as I felt right now.
The, rehearsal -over, Cindy came to me, quite out of breath. "Mom, how did I do, okay?" Her eager face waited for my approval.
"You did beautifully, Cindy, really you did. Now, if you just remember to feel the music . . . keep the timing, you will turn in a remarkable performance for a novice:"
She grinned at me. "Always the instructor, huh, Mom? I suspect I'm not nearly as good as you want me to believe, but I'm going to give this performance my everything, and if I fail, it won't be because I didn't try.'
Jory was surrounded by admirers, while Melodie sat quietly on a love seat beside Bart. They didn't appear to be conversing, nor did they seem friendly. Yet, seeing them on that lovely small seat for two, I felt somehow uneasy. Tugging Chris forward, we moved closer to the pair on the love seat. "Happy birthday, Bart," I said cheerfully. He looked up and smiled with genuine charm.
"I told you it was going to be a great day, with sun and no rain."
"Yes, you told us."
"Can we all eat now?" he asked, standing and reaching for Melodie's hand. She ignored him and stood without assistance. "I'm starving!" Bart went on, looking only a little crestfallen from another of her rebuffs. "Those little Continental morning snacks just don't satisfy me."
We made a happy assembly at the luncheon table, all but Joel, who sat at his own small, round table on the terrace, apart from the rest of us. It was his claim that we were too rowdy and ate too much, insulting his monkish tastes, which dictated a serious attitude toward food and long prayers before and after eating. Even Bart grew annoyed with Joel when he became too pious, and especially on this day his impatience showed. "Uncle Joel, do you have to sit there all by yourself? Come, join the family group and wish me a happy birthday."
Joel shook his head. "The Lord scorns ostentatious displays of wealth and vanity. I
disapprove of this party. You could show your gratitude to be alive in a better way, by contributing to charities."
"What have charities done for me? This is my time to shine, Uncle, and even if dear old dead Malcolm flips over in his grave, I'm having the time of my life tonight!"
I was flooded with delight. Quickly I leaned to kiss him. "I love to see you like this, Bart. This is your day . . . and the gifts we have for you are going to open your eyes wide."
"Hope so," he said, all smiles. "I see they're heaping up on the gift table. We'll open them soon after the guests are here, so we can get on to the entertainment."
Across from where I sat, Jory was staring into Melodie's eyes with concern. 'Honey, are you feeling all right?"
"Yes," she whispered, "except I'd like to be dancing the role of Delilah. It feels strange watching you dance with someone else."
"After the baby comes, we'll dance together again," he said before he kissed her. Her eyes clung worshipfully to him as he got up to practice again with Cindy.
That's when Bart lost his happy expression.
Delivery men were constantly at the door bringing Bart more gifts. Many of his fraternity brothers from Harvard were coming with their girlfriends or wives. Those who couldn't make it were sending presents. Bart came and went, almost on the run, checking on every aspect of the party. Bouquets of flowers arrived by the dozens. The caterers filled the kitchen, so I felt an intruder when I wanted to prepare my own kind of midday snack. Then Bart had me by the arm and was pulling me through all the rooms that were overflowing with flowers. "Do you think my friends will be impressed?" he asked worriedly. "You know, I think I might have done a bit too much bragging when I was in school. They'll expect a mansion beyond compare."
I took another look around. There was something about a house ready for a party that made it especially beautiful, and Foxworth Hall was not only festive but spectacular with all its fresh flowers to give it warmth and grace, as well as beauty. All the crystal sparkled, the silver gleamed, the copper glowed . . . oh, yes, this house could rival the very best.
"Darling, stop fretting. You can't out-best everyone in the world. This is a truly beautiful house, and your decorators have done a marvelous job. Your friends will be impressed, don't you doubt that for one second. The caretakers did keep it well over the years, and gave all the gardens a chance to become well established."
He wasn't listening, just staring beyond me, frowning slightly. "You know, Mother," he said in a low voice, "I'm going to rattle around here after you and your brother go, and Melodie and Jory leave. It's a good thing I've got my Uncle Joel, who will stay on until he dies."
I heard this with a sinking heart.