Fading Starlight Part 17

Did things go as you expected?" Frances brought in Charlotte's nightgown and robe and placed them across the bed.

"More or less." She touched the necklace at her throat as she nodded. Even now, as she saw it in the mirror, she experienced wonder at the beauty of it. The face above it had never been beautiful, and it most certainly wasn't now, but these jewels, they were her constant. She had worn them every single day since her father's death-regardless of the insurance rules. How were they to know which necklace she was wearing? No one other than a master jeweler would know the difference. Except Charlotte. She knew. She wore only the necklace her father had bought for her. Never the fake. Ever.

"I'm sorry about your niece. I know you were very fond of her." Frances's voice was extra soft as she said this, although Charlotte knew Frances well enough to know that she had doubted the girl's intentions for a long time. As with most things, she'd kept her opinions to herself.

"Yes, I was." Charlotte picked up the brush from the dresser and began to pull it through her hair in long, slow strokes. "But I'm glad this happened. I'm thankful that I found out the truth about yet one more person who wanted to use me for their own gain." She reached for another section of hair. "That's one lesson I thought I had learned by now. You're the only person I've ever been able to count on, you know. You and your mother."

"There is more than just me you can count on. I would have thought you learned that tonight, if you hadn't figured it out before."

"Neil Winston is faithful, that much is true, but he is well paid to be so."

"Mr. Winston is not who I was speaking of, although I believe his loyalty goes beyond his job. I believe he has your best interests at heart."

"Maybe so. Of course, I've known his parents since the beginning. We were all exiles out here together. That does tend to build a certain deep bond."

"Yes. And I suppose if that's the way you want to look at it, Lauren, too, was an exile. Maybe that's the reason she felt such an immediate affinity for you."

"I want to believe that, I really do, but I just find it so hard to do so. She loves beautiful clothes, I have a closet full of them. Do you think she is hoping to somehow profit from that?"

"I think you've been obsessed over the profit angle for too long now. Some people are just good people. Some people truly want to be helpful to other people. Perhaps in Hollywood there was less of that than in the real world, but I think you've been pus.h.i.+ng people aside for too long now. It's time to make an effort to start believing in people again."

"What would make Lauren decide she wanted to do nice things for me? There had to be some sort of reason for a person to do things like that."

"I believe it probably has something to do with her own difficult upbringing and, more than that, with her personal faith."

"How do you know she had a difficult upbringing or that she has a personal faith?"

"I've spoken with her some. She is quite an interesting girl. I believe you would find that you have more than a little in common with her."

"Somehow I doubt that. Name one thing we have in common."

"Well, unlike you, her parents, I believe, were married."

"See."

"But her mother was a wannabe actress who died of an overdose when Lauren was young."

"I suppose that is similar to my story."

"I also think another reason she goes out of her way to be nice to you is that she remembers when someone went out of their way for her. Her best friend's family more or less took her in during high school. She remembers how much that meant to her."

Charlotte set down the brush. "Well, I guess that would make us quite the trio, then, wouldn't it? You, me, and her?"

Frances came to stand beside her. "We all have more than a little dysfunction in our past, that's for sure. Thankfully for Lauren, she had another family willing to take her under their wings. Thankfully for my mother, she had a strong advocate and ally who took her in, in spite of having absolutely no reason to show kindness to her. And thankfully for me, that same ally helped me move past the grief and financial burden of being a widow whose husband left her with memories of love and a staggering medical debt."

Charlotte made a dismissive gesture. The two of them rarely spoke about the events that had brought them together, but Frances always expressed grat.i.tude. The truth was, Charlotte had taken in Frances's mother less in kindness and more in anger at the injustice of the situation. "I still get furious when I think of your mother and how she was treated."

"She used to tell me the story all the time. How humiliated she was when that man threw all her belongings into a heap on the ground. Your actions meant more to her than she was probably ever able to express to you."

"She expressed it in many ways, and there's no need to ever doubt that. And there's no need to speak of it further."

"Whatever you think best, but it's always seemed odd to me that you refuse to accept any credit for, or really even acknowledge, that you did something truly extraordinary that day." Frances turned the doork.n.o.b. "I'd best get back downstairs. Cook's going to need some help with the rest of dinner."

Frances left the room without saying more. Charlotte was glad to have her and her reminder of things from the past gone. For now.

Mr. Winston's face was red when he returned to the dining room after walking Willow out. Lauren was thankful that she had been spared hearing the exchange of words that she suspected happened out in the driveway. Mr. Winston sat back in his chair, picked up his napkin with a flourish, and put it back into his lap. "Now, where were we?" He cut into a piece of the tenderloin that the cook had brought not long after he'd walked out with Willow. Lauren knew it had begun to grow cold by now, but Mr. Winston took a bite and moaned. "Truly tender meat is one of life's little joys."

Lauren smiled. "I've never really thought of it that way, but I won't disagree with you." She hadn't actually tasted the meat yet. She was much too nervous about what more he had to say to her.

He reached down into his briefcase and removed a large envelope. "Now, there is a bit of business I'd like to discuss with you."

Since Miss Montgomery had obviously left him behind to do her dirty work, Lauren knew that she was about to get told off but just wasn't certain of the exact reason. Her stomach knotted up, and she waited for the inevitable.

"Miss Montgomery made some inquiries into what is going on in the house across the street. She found out that Willow was the so-called buyer for the cottage, and I say so-called because we believe that she never did intend to buy it, she simply wanted to get you out of there."

"I don't understand why. I never did anything to her."

"You were a threat to her plan to become the sole heir of this estate."

Lauren burst out laughing. "I hardly think that planting some leftover flowers outside someone's fence makes me a contender for an inheritance."

Mr. Winston looked at her evenly but did not smile. "Then you don't know much about how these things sometimes work, it would seem."

"That's true. I don't have a single clue."

"As soon as Miss Montgomery found out that Willow was trying to buy the cottage, she had me hire some investigators to find out what you might be up to, what Willow might be up to, and to make sure that none of it got past her."

"And what did she find?"

"Surprisingly, to her at least, she found out that you are basically what you appear to be."

How should Lauren respond to that? She finally kind of laughed and said, "Yeah, I guess that's all I've got to offer for clarification here. I am basically the person that I am."

"That being the case, it did cause her to rethink her will."

Lauren pushed back from the table. The last thing she needed was the drama that would come from whatever it was Miss Montgomery had cooked up. "Mr. Winston, that really is not something I either aim for or am seeking. I just want to live my life without having someone set me up for things that I did not do. I want to be able to use my skills with clothes and make a living and get on with life. Getting added to Miss Montgomery's will seems like the surest way to lawsuits and more of the garbage I am currently trying to avoid."

"And that's exactly what Miss Montgomery believes, as well, but she does want to recognize your kindness. She had a nice long talk with Ralph Edwards and has agreed to purchase his cottage for the price that Willow had pretended to agree upon. She felt some responsibility since Willow was only in the area because of her. She had me draw up an agreement that states that you may live in it rent-free for as long as you choose to do so, with the condition that it be your main residence. Once you have moved on with your life, then it will simply be her cottage and revert to her estate."

"There is no need-"

"Miss Montgomery believes that there is a need. She wants to do something toward making amends for problems she or her family may have caused you. As you may have seen, she does not like to feel as though she owes anyone anything."

"So I've noticed." Lauren cut a piece of tenderloin but didn't attempt to eat it.

"And she also says to tell you that she likes the idea of having a neighbor who thinks of planting leftover flowers along the street." He smiled broadly as he said this.

Lauren just shook her head. "Really? She wants a neighbor who plants flowers? Since she's ripped out every single thing I've ever planted, I would not have seen that one coming."

He smiled. "Nor I. Although I've come to understand that she did rip up the last bit out of anger because she thought you had taken the necklace."

"She what?"

"She'd seen that it was gone from the shed, so she knew that you'd found it. Yet she saw you the next morning going about your business as if nothing had happened. When you spoke with Frances, you didn't mention it. At that point, she believed that you were planning to sell it."

"I gave it back to Willow the very day I found it."

"She knows that now, but at the time, it wasn't so clear." He looked down at the list beside his plate. "So . . . flowers are allowed now, I suppose. Also, she has been speaking with the curator of the Fas.h.i.+on Inst.i.tute Museum in Los Angeles. They have been after her for years to donate some of her gowns-in particular her Angelina Browning designs. She has spoken with the curator at length about the fine job you've done on some of her dress repairs. They have agreed that, for Miss Montgomery's gowns anyway, you alone will have the job of repairs and restoration, and in fact you will be in charge of that entire portion of the exhibit. This will, of course, come with a small salary. It is part-time work and guaranteed through the length of the exhibit, which will go at least through December of next year. It won't give you a glamorous life, but you'll be able to live and work here, commuting back and forth to LA when necessary, and you'll be able to at least meet your bills while you are figuring out your next step."

"Small salary or not, that is a dream job for me."

"So I understand from speaking to Leslie Navarro, one of your professors from the Fas.h.i.+on Inst.i.tute."

"You spoke to Professor Navarro about me? When? And why?"

"Miss Montgomery is very thorough in her research."

"So I have come to realize." Lauren stared down at her plate. "I . . . don't know what to say."

"Tell us that you can move back into the cottage as soon as possible. The neighborhood hasn't been the same without you." He grinned at her. "Even my parents say so."

Lauren thought about the cramped room at the top of the rickety stairs that she had to go home to. "I think that can be arranged. Like tomorrow."

"I was hoping you'd say so." He looked up then and smiled at Frances, who had apparently been standing there for some time, although Lauren had not seen or heard her enter the room. "I think we're ready for our dessert now."

"Right away, sir." The grin on her face was the largest Lauren had ever seen from her.

thirty-five.

Lauren carried the last of her belongings to her Ford Escape. She'd already made a couple of round trips to the cottage. This would be the final one.

"Sorry I can't refund the rent for the next week and a half, but that was the deal we made. You would pay for a month at a time, and you'd pay up front."

"Absolutely we did, and I have no problem with that. I just appreciate you renting the place to me on a month-to-month basis."

"You were a good tenant for the short time you were here. I'll be sad to see you go. You cleaned up the place well, and you were quiet and nice around the kids." Paula Caine sighed and leaned against the front of Lauren's car.

"I do appreciate all you did for me. Tell the kids I said good-bye."

Paula nodded. "I'll do it. Good luck."

Lauren drove back toward the cottage, humming as she went. As she went through the entrance gate, she waved happily at Sam, who returned the gesture with a sharp salute followed by a huge smile.

Frances knocked on the cottage's front door within minutes of Lauren's arrival. "I'm so glad to have you back here. You are the breath of fresh air this neighborhood needed for a long time."

"I can't tell you how happy I am to be back." Lauren pointed toward the kitchen table. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Oh, no. There's no way I'm going to impose on someone who is in the process of moving. For the third time in less than two months, at that."

"Believe me, Frances, you are not an imposition. I've actually been curious about you, anyway."

"Curious about me? In what way?"

"You and Miss Montgomery. How long have you worked for her?"

"That's a very long story, but the short answer is that I've really been working for her my entire life."

"Really? I'd love to hear the longer version."

Frances just smiled. "And you will. Someday."

It was several weeks later before she would tell it all, but Frances did eventually return to tell Lauren the story.

"My mother, you see, was a housekeeper for a Hollywood director back in the day. He was known as quite a womanizer, and it was a reputation that was well earned. Somehow he managed to convince my mother that she was different. That he was really in love with her, and that as soon as his career was just a bit more firmly established, he would stop any pretense of courting any up-and-coming starlets and would marry her and announce for all the world to hear that she had been his one-and-only true love for all of his life."

"This director . . . was it Randall Edgar Blake?"

Frances looked surprised. "I'd forgotten you knew anything about that." She took a sip of water and continued. "It seems that Randall Edgar Blake had been promising Miss Montgomery that she would star in his upcoming movie. Then there were tabloid photos of him with another actress and an announcement that she would be the one playing the part. Miss Montgomery came over to confront him. She pulled up in the driveway, just in time to find my mother crying over a pile of her belongings, which had been tossed out the side door." Frances ran her finger around the rim of her gla.s.s. "She was pregnant, you see. He wanted her to get rid of . . . me."

Lauren reached across the table and grasped the woman's hand. "Oh, how awful."

Frances nodded. "Abortion wasn't legal then, of course, but that's not to say someone with that kind of power and money couldn't easily arrange it. My mother wouldn't even consider it. He beat her, kicked her out, and refused to give her even the previous month's pay she was owed. Miss Montgomery heard my mother crying and came to see what was the matter. Randall Edgar Blake realized what was happening and quickly came outside. He called my mother every name in the book, said he had never touched her and that she was trying to extort money from him now because she was a s.l.u.t."

"Oh, your poor mother. I can't imagine how awful that must have been for her."

"Truly awful, for so many reasons. Thing was, if his words were meant to turn Miss Montgomery away from her, they had the opposite effect. You see, her entire life she'd been talked to in a similar way by more than a few people. She immediately felt a great surge of compa.s.sion for my mother, loaded her up, and took her away from there. Miss Montgomery brought her home with her and told her mother the whole story.

"Miss Montgomery's mother didn't have quite the same compa.s.sion level, and her response was more or less, 'There wasn't anyone here to help me when people turned against me. She's going to have to figure it out on her own.' Miss Montgomery, however, would not be deterred, and she finally convinced her mother that since my mother was a housekeeper, they could use her in the house near Santa Barbara." Frances paused and gestured across the street. "This very house. It would get her away once and for all from Randall Edgar Blake, and even give her the chance to start over somewhere fresh."

"So your mother was the housekeeper there before you?"

"Yes, for many years. Miss Montgomery even bought her a little house in a family-friendly neighborhood in the city so that she could raise me around other kids. I still have that very house. She also helped my mother construct a story about how my father died on the boat when they immigrated. No one ever knew that I was an illegitimate child. Miss Montgomery was adamant about that."

"I don't understand, though-the engraving on the copy necklace. Why did it have the initials REB?"

"A couple of different reasons, actually. Apparently Miss Montgomery's father had originally concocted the idea because he was so outraged over the betrayal of his daughter. He was going to let it be spread around the gossip columns that Randall Edgar Blake had given this outrageously expensive necklace to Charlotte Montgomery, thus hopefully inflaming JoAnne Mayfield, causing her to demand her own expensive bauble-because that is the way she operated.