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Margaret Fullerton came home that afternoon at exactly three fifteen, looking precisely as she had when she left the house that morning. Impeccable and elegant, in a pearl-gray silk suit from Chanel with a dusty-rose silk blouse and matching lining in her jacket. She wore delicate gray kid shoes, gray stockings, a small gray lizard bag, and her smoothly coiffed white hair looked as perfect as it had at eight o'clock that morning. As was her usual routine, she came in, greeted the servants, set down her handbag and gloves on a large silver tray in the front hall, glanced at the mail carefully laid out by one of the maids, and walked into the library.
There, she would, as a matter of course, either ring for tea, or make some phone calls in answer to the list of messages always neatly left on her desk by the butler. But this afternoon she knew that Brad was coming home. She wasn't entirely sure if they were back yet or not, and she was sorry that she had been unable to meet him, but she sat in the library now, looked at her watch with a feeling of anticipation, and rang for the butler. He appeared in the doorway a minute later with a look of expectation.
“Yes, ma'am?”
“Is my son here, Mike?”
“Yes, ma'am. Two of them. Mr. Theodore is here, and also Mr. Bradford.” Mike had been with them for almost thirty years.
“Where are they?”
“Upstairs. In Mr. Theodore's den. Should I call them?”
“No.” She stood up quietly. “I'll go to them. Are they alone?” She looked hopeful. As though Serena might already have been disposed of. But the butler carefully shook his head.
“No, ma'am. Mrs. Fullerton—Mrs. Bradford Fullerton,” he explained, “is with them.” Margaret Fullerton's eyes raged, but she only nodded.
“I see. Thank you, Mike. I'll go up in a moment.” She had to think now, just for a minute, of what she was going to say and how she was going to say it. She had to handle it right or Brad would be lost to her for good.
She also knew that Teddy would have to be kept in the dark. She had already made the mistake of telling him what she had in mind. It had been a stupid thing to do and she knew it, her youngest son had a warm heart and dreamy eyes, and his philosophies about life belonged in a romantic novel, not in a real world filled with opportunists and fools, and little Italian tramps after her son's fortune.
Margaret Hastings Fullerton had been orphaned at twenty-two, when both her parents had been killed in a train collision abroad. They left her with an enormous fortune. She had been well counseled by the partners in her father's law firm and a year later she had married Charles Fullerton and merged her fortune with his. Hers had been born of the country's steel mills, and had been sweetened over the years with important land holdings and the acquisition of numerous banks. Charles Fullerton, on the other hand, was of a family whose money had been derived from more genteel sources. They had made a fortune in tea in the previous century, had added to it enormous profits from coffee, had huge holdings in Brazil and Argentina, England and France, Ceylon and the Far East. It was a fortune that had boggled even her mind, and Margaret Hastings Fullerton didn't boggle easily. She had always had a remarkable understanding of the financial world, a fascination with politics and international affairs, and had her parents lived, her father would probably have seen to it that she married a diplomat or a statesman, possibly even the President of the United States. As it was, she met Charles Fullerton instead, the only son of Bradford Jarvis Fullerton n. Charles had three sisters, all of whose husbands had gone to work for Charles's father. They traveled extensively and constantly throughout the world, managed the companies well and satisfied the old man in all possible ways, except one. They were not his sons, and Charles was, but Charles had no interest whatsoever in inheriting his father's throne at the head of the empire. He wanted a quiet life, to practice law, to travel as little as possible, and to reap the fruits of all that his father and grandfather had created. It was Margaret who found the Fullerton investments fascinating, who wanted him to join the others, and eventually take over the firm. But she knew within months of their marriage that there was no hope of that. She was married to one of the country's richest men, and he didn't give a damn about the excitement of how that fortune had been created. Her plans for him, as well as his father's, went awry, and he had his own way in the end. He joined several friends from law school, formed his own firm, and practiced law in his own quiet way. He had none of the flamboyance or ambition of his forebears. Nor did he have the steely drive of his wife, who in truth was much like his father. She and the old man had got along famously until he died, and it was she who had truly mourned when the empire was sold off bit by bit. Gone were the vast holdings in exotic countries, gone the dreams that one day Charles would change his mind and take his place in charge of it all, gone her hopes of being the force behind the throne.
She had turned her ambitions then from international business to politics. And here, for a brief time, she had succeeded. She had managed to convince Charles that what he wanted most in life was a seat in the Senate. It would enhance his career, help his law firm, delight his wife and friends, and she assured him that it was everything he wanted. In truth, he had found it tedious and boring, he had disliked spending time in Washington, and he had refused to run again when his term came to an end. With relief he had returned to his law firm in New York, leaving Margaret with no illusions and few dreams. He had carved a niche for himself that he wanted, a quiet spot behind a desk in New York, and he wanted nothing more. If it was not enough for her, it was nonetheless more than adequate for him. All that remained for Margaret Fullerton was to turn her hopes toward her sons.
Bradford was certainly the most enterprising of her sons, but like his father, he was untractable and did exactly as he wished. None of the jobs he had had so far had been what Margaret would have called important, he refused to use the connections he had, and although he had some interest in politics, she was beginning to doubt that it was enough ambition in that direction to make him alter the course of his life. What he wanted, not unlike his father, Margaret had often thought with dismay, was a life that was “pleasant” and meant something to him. He had no interest in power, as she saw it, industry or commerce on a grand scale, or an empire like that of his ancestors. Greg, on the other hand, was a great deal more malleable. Though he was not as bright as Brad, in him she saw more hope, and by marrying a congressman's daughter, he would certainly be in the right circle to pursue politics if that was the direction in which he was pushed. And Margaret knew that she could count on Pattie to get Greg moving.
Teddy was another matter entirely, and Margaret had known that about her youngest child, almost from the day he was born. Theodore Harper Fullerton moved at his own pace, in his own time, in precisely the direction he wanted. He had his mother's drive, but in none of the same veins. And now he was about to pursue his career in medicine with the same kind of energy and determination that she would have had, if she had had a career of her own. One couldn't help but respect Teddy, but she steered clear of him too. He was not someone she could influence, or even move at times, and it was with him that she locked horns constantly. They disagreed about everything, from politics to the weather. Particularly this recent business about Brad's little harlot from Rome. She had told the entire family exactly what she thought about that nonsense, and more specifically she had told her husband precisely what she thought needed to be done. It was a shame that nothing could be done before he brought her to New York, but with Greg's wedding coming so quickly, she didn't have time to go to Paris to see them. She would just have to take care of it when they came to New York. And she was sure that there would be no problem. It was obvious that the girl was after his money, from what Pattie had said, but it still wasn't too late to buy her off. They would pay her passage back to Europe, give her a handsome sum to unload her, and the annulment proceedings would be begun at once. If she was smart and willing to cooperate, Brad didn't even have to know about their arrangement. All she
had to tell him was that she had changed her mind about everything and was going home.
As Margaret made her way upstairs now to Teddy's den, she thought about the papers in her desk downstairs. It would all be so simple. She had thought about it again all that morning, and it was a relief to know that the matter was almost at an end. Her intense desire to get rid of Serena had eclipsed almost all else lately. She had scarcely thought about the wedding, and it had taken some of the joy away from the thrill of seeing Brad home. It was part of why she hadn't gone to the ship to meet him. She just wanted to unload Serena, and then she could enjoy having her oldest boy home. She was already planning a trip to San Francisco in the fall to see him. She wanted to visit Teddy at Stanford, and she could see Brad at the same time, in his new post at the Presidio. Besides, she had old friends there, and knew that she would have a pleasant time. The thought of the prospective trip warmed her, as she stood silently for a moment, as though girding her strength, and then with a small determined smile, she knocked on the door.
“Yes?” The voice was Teddy's, and there was laughter within. She could hear a woman's voice, and Brad's deep voice and soft laughter as she answered.
“It's me, dear. May I come in?”
“Of course.” The words were spoken as Teddy pulled open the door, looking down at his mother, a smile still lighting his eyes. But the smile faded quickly once he saw her. He felt an immediate tension pass between them, and he felt an instant desire to protect Serena. “Come in, Mother. Brad and Serena are here.” He made a point of including her too. “We've been waiting for you to arrive.”
She nodded, stepped swiftly into the room, and, an instant later, stood facing her oldest child. She stopped and didn't move toward him, but there was obvious emotion in her eyes. “Hello, Brad.”
Without any sign of strain he moved toward her and gave her a warm hug. “Hello, Mother.” She clung to him possessively for just a moment, and then stepped back, with a mist of tears in her eyes.
“My God, it's good to have you home safe and sound.”
“Yup, here I am, all in one piece. Home from the wars at last.” He grinned cheerfully at her, and then stepped aside and with a single loving gesture he waved to the tall, graceful blond woman standing just behind him in the ivory silk suit, with the enormous emerald eyes. “I'd like you to meet my wife, Mother. Serena, this is my mother.” He executed a stiff little bow, and for an instant there was no movement whatsoever in the cozy room. There was total and absolute silence, as though everyone was holding his breath while the two women met, but it was Serena who broke the ice. She came forward very quickly, with a graceful hand extended and a nervous but friendly smile.
“Mrs. Fullerton, how do you do?” She looked exquisite as she stood there, and the older woman's eyes seemed to narrow as she looked Serena over carefully from head to foot. “I'm very happy to meet you.”
Margaret Fullerton put forth her hand, with a look of ice. “How do you do? I hope you had a pleasant trip.” There was no suggestion that this was her daughter-in-law she was meeting for the first time. She was a total stranger, and Margaret intended to see that nothing changed that. “Sorry not to meet you at the ship, Brad.” She turned toward her son with a smile. “I got bogged down with things, and I thought I'd leave that honor to Teddy. But we'll all have dinner together tonight. And tomorrow.” She ignored Serena completely in her description of their plans. “And then of course on Saturday there's the wedding. You've got a rehearsal for it tomorrow, and half a dozen other things. You'll have to stop in to see your father's tailor in the morning. He used your old measurements for a cutaway and striped trousers, but you'd better let him check you over quickly tomorrow, while he can still make some changes before it's too late.”
“Fine.” There were fine lines of tension around Brad's eyes. He didn't give a damn about the cutaway and striped trousers. He wanted his mother to give some sign that she had accepted his wife. “What about the three of us having lunch tomorrow, quietly somewhere?”
“Darling, I can't. You can imagine how mad everything is just before the wedding.” Her eyes gave nothing away, but Brad felt his whole body go tense.
“Isn't all of that supposed to be the Athertons' problem? I thought the bride's mother was the one with all the headaches.”
“I have the rehearsal dinner to arrange tomorrow night.”
“Well, then afterward we'll spend some time together.” He wasn't pleading, but he was asking, and as he listened to his older brother, Teddy began to ache inside. He could see exactly what his mother was doing. Just as she had managed not to go to the boat, now she was avoiding them again. What in hell was she doing? he wondered. Trying to pretend that Serena didn't exist, or was there a reason for her behaving this way? Teddy had an unpleasant feeling that something they would all regret was about to happen.
“I'll do my best, dear.” His mother's voice was noncommittal. “Have you seen your father?”
“Not yet.” It had occurred to Brad as well that no one except Teddy had put himself out to welcome him back and meet Serena, and he was slowly sorry that he had made the time to come home on their way to San Francisco. They could have gone to Rome to say their good-byes there, or wandered around Europe for a couple of weeks before flying home and merely changed planes in New York.
But maybe he should give them more of a chance, he decided. It was a hectic time for them all, and he couldn't expect everyone to drop what they were doing just for him. But it was not for himself that he cared about it, it was for Serena. Already he could see something wary in her eyes as he glanced at her.
“You'll be at dinner with us tonight, won't you, Brad?” His mother gazed at him, as though he were the only one included in the invitation.
“Yes.” He looked at her pointedly. “We both will. And which room do you want us in, by the way?”
For only an instant his mother looked annoyed. He was forcing her to deal with the issue of Serena, and it was the last thing she wanted to do at that point in time. But she realized that, for the moment at least, there was no avoiding it. “I think the blue room would be fine. How long are you staying, dear?” She looked only at her son and never once at the girl.
“For two weeks, until we leave for San Francisco.”
“That's marvelous.” She turned then, glanced searchingly at Serena, and then looked back at Brad. “I have a few details to take care of, darling. I'll see you in a little while.” And then, unexpectedly, she looked back at Serena and spoke to her with great care. “I think perhaps it would be a good idea if you and I spent a little time together. If you could come to my boudoir for half an hour before dinner, I think we might speak alone.” Serena nodded immediately and Brad looked surprised. Maybe the old girl was making an effort after all, he decided, perhaps he had wronged her.
“I'll show her where it is, Mother.” For an instant Brad looked pleased, but unnoticed by the others, there was terror in Teddy's eyes.
Their mother left them a few minutes later and Teddy looked strangely worried. Brad teased him about it, and Serena sat down with a long nervous sigh, staring at them both.
“Why do you suppose she wants to see me alone?” Serena looked worried, and her husband smiled.
“She just wants to get to know you. Don't let her intimidate you, love. We've got nothing to hide.”
“Should I tell her about the baby?”
“Why not?” Brad looked proudly at her and they exchanged a smile, but Teddy was quick to intervene.
“No, don't.” They both looked at him, startled, and he blushed.
“Christ, why not?” B.J. looked almost annoyed. He had only been home for a few hours, and he was already feeling unnerved by his family. What odd people they were, he remembered now, and all the intrigues and plots and tensions and insults. His mother always kept them all at fever pitch, and it annoyed him severely to become a part of that again now. “Why shouldn't Serena tell her?”
“Why don't you tell her toget
her?”
“What difference does it make?”
“I'm not sure. But she might say something to upset Serena.” Brad thought about it for a moment and then nodded.
“All right. Anyway”—he looked pointedly at his wife—”don't let the old bag push you around, love. Just be yourself and she won't be able to resist you.” He bent down to give her a hug and thought that he could almost feel her tremble. “You're not afraid of her, are you?”
Serena thought about it for a moment and then nodded at him. “Yes, I think I am. She's a very striking, very strong woman.” She had also been much prettier than Serena had expected, and much tougher. Serena had never met anyone quite like her. Her grandmother had been a strong woman, but in a much purer sense. Her grandmother had had quiet strength and determination. Margaret Fullerton had something different. One sensed instantly about her that she used her strength to get what she wanted, and perhaps in ways that were occasionally ugly. There was something that ran just under the surface of Margaret Fullerton that was as cold as ice and as hard as nails.
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