Ring of Fear

I caught a glimpse of Dennis, concentrating on the proportions of the drink he was mixing. His expression was neutral, unlike his friendly naturalness in the role of groom. We had halted on the threshold while Rafe surveyed

the assembled. He had just put his hand on the small of my back to escort me out, when someone caught sight of us.

“Hail to the groom! Here’s Rafe!” And the curious thronged toward us.

I dislike intensely being the focus of social ogling under any circumstances, and to have all these rather tall people crowding around was bad enough. To have Louis Marchmount staring at me, desperately trying to remember my face, was more than enough. Inconceivable as it was to me, the man who had raped me did not recognize me.

Any relief was tinged with revulsion and the added shame that he had robbed me of something I’d valued and then forgot the theft and the thieved.

I found a highball glass in my hand just as Wendy Madison inserted herself between me and Rafe. She draped her arms around our shoulders, which only emphasized the difference between her height and ours.

“Don’t they make a lovely couple, everyone?” my mother-in-law asked in an arch voice. (She did not look old enough to be a mother-in-law, but she certainly knew how to play the role with blue-ribbon insincerity.) “Let’s hope it takes, this time. They have so much in common.” She smiled broadly at Rafe and then accorded me the unseeing glance of the caged lioness.. She hadn’t accepted me as a person, much less a daughter-in-law.

They were all lifting their glasses, faces wreathed in bright, happy, winning toothpaste smiles, so I suppose I managed to smile. My face ached, as it will when I force an expression. Mercifully, the hypocritical toast was made, and people began to talk to their neighbors. To my dismay, Louis Marchmount pushed through to us.

“Thought your face was familiar t’other day,” he said with false heartiness. “Friends tell me m’memory’s going.” His smile was suddenly uncertain with anxiety. These lapses bothered him, but I was grateful. “Meant no discourtesy, you understand.”

“It worried Lou tremendously,” Wendy Madison said, taking Marchmount’s arm possessively. (As if I had any designs on the man!) “I won’t have Lou bothered.” She glared at me. “He’s not been well, you know. Heart.” A bright social smile returned to her face.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Rafe said with a matching brittleness.

I noticed then that a heavyset, dark-complexioned man was sort of angled by Lou Marchmount. Not angled, though, as much as hovering, listening without seeming to. He saw my look, and by turning a fraction closer, became part of the group, so that Wendy Madison was aware of him.

“Mr. Stephen Urscoll; I don’t believe you’ve had occasion to meet my son, Ralph Clery, and his… bride.” Her introduction was grudgingly made, her manner rude. I wondered if she’d ever give me a Christian name. And I also wondered why Mr. Urscoll rated her displeasure. He was a good-looking man, well dressed, and certainly had better manners than she did. “Mr. Urscoll is… a friend of Lou’s.” The words came out in a rush, as if distasteful to her.

“My congratulations, Mr. Clery. My felicitations, senora,” he said, with the kind of bow from the hips that was second nature to the Californian. Come to think of it,:is inflection was certainly that of one whose first language had been Spanish. “I’ve often backed your father’s yearlings to my benefit, Mrs. Clery,” he added, and then suddenly stepped back, effacing himself.

“Been east long, Lou?” Rafe asked.

The question was casual enough, but the effect on Marchmount was electric. He swallowed, blinked wildly, and looked to Wendy Madison.

“Lou’s been traveling, visiting friends. He had a heart attack on the Coast, and he was advised to get a change of scene, take it easy.” She patted his arm.

“Yes, yes, of course.” He rallied, straightened his shoulders, and his expression looked more alert. “Been looking at likely stock in Lexington. Think I might look in at Goff’s and see what’s promising at Ballsbridge. Haven’t been paying as much attention to my stable as I ought. Lost my trainer, you know. Best one I ever had. Was bringing along some promising colts. Damned inconvenient, losing him.”

“More inconvenient for Nialla, I’d say,” Rafe replied in the stunned silence.

“Lou!” Wendy Madison evinced the first honest response of my short acquaintance with her.

“Hmmm? What?” The man didn’t realize what he’d said.

“Louis has not been feeling himself,” Urscoll said to me, adroitly stepping into the breach. “He meant no disrespect.”

“No, I’m not myself,” Marchmount agreed petulantly. “How could I be? It’s too much for any man. Urscoll, I need one of my pills. I must have one. I really can’t be persecuted and questioned and badgered this way. I’m not well.” He put his hand to his brow, a gesture that failed to be affected, because the hand was trembling so badly.

Instantly Wendy Madison was all concern. She signed to Urscoll to take Marchmount’s other arm, and with a furious glance at us for upsetting her guest, led him toward a chaise lounge on the far side of the terrace.