Clara walked slowly to the door, her eyes resting curiously on the tall, motionless young lady who stood there with her arms full of flowers.
"Who are you?" she knowingly asked.
"I'm Bethany Maloney," the woman replied. "You are the new Mrs. Lewin, I guess?"
Clara grinned. "Yes," she said.
Bethany was too polite to gaze incredulously, but she could not altogether keep the dismay out of her fine eyes. "I believe we've met before, and I apologize for my behavior back then. I'm afraid. Bennet and I are old friends."
Clara glanced at her sharply. 'Yes, Bethany was obviously the entanglement.' She thought. She had a proprietary air, and the way she had said 'Bennet and I are old friends' was slightly self-conscious.
"How do you do, Miss Maloney. Bennet told me you would be calling," she said demurely.
"Oh, please, I hope you'll call me Bethany," the other woman said with a little laugh. "And you, what's your name?
"Clara."
"Clara...Well, Clara, I came over at once to welcome the new Mrs. Lewin. The news was so sudden that I wasn't able to arrange some flowers for you, but I've brought you these."
"Thank you."
Clara took the flowers and stood, holding them awkwardly. If Bethany Maloney was disconcerted by Bennet's unexpected marriage to a stranger, she hid it very well and, as she observed Clara more closely, her natural poise grew more assured.
"Why, you're quite young," she said in her soft, deep voice. "Whatever was Bennet thinking of?"
"I'm an adult," said clara, amused. "And he is not really so old, you know."
"Of course not, but clearly several years' difference, I'm guessing up to eighteen or twenty-something years difference. Bennet is forty-six. Seems you're mistaken him for a man in his thirties, which is okay, since he has a great body... Oh well, I'm sure you'll be a great surprise to all his friends," Bethany said, staring at Clara. She was hoping that Clara will spill her age in defence but the later remained calm, placing a solid smile on her face. Feeling defeated, Bethany's gaze shifted involuntarily to the portrait over the fire place.
"I can't wait to see how surprised his friends would be?" Clara said, she began to feel irritated. "Shall we go into the other room? There is a fire there."
"Shouldn't we replace the dust covers that you removed first?" Bethany asked gently, giving Clara the accusing look but Clara did not give the room another glance.
"Leave them," she said. "The room will have to be thoroughly cleaned and aired before it is used, anyway."
Bethany followed her into the small study and said, a little timidly, "Are you thinking of making use of the room again?"
Clara put down the flowers in a careless heap on a table.
"Of course. It seem to be the nicest room in the house."
"She planned it," Bethany said with a sigh. "Bennet's first wife, you know. She had exquisite taste. The room has never been used since she died."
"Oh wow! She must be so talented. I guess Bennet didn't have use for a drawing room then, but the room is a pure masterpiece." said Clara cheerfully.
But Bethany replied with gentle reproach, "Forgive me, but you probably don't understand. Bennet felt his wife's death very deeply. Anything that helped to remind him.....well, it's natural, isn't it?"
"The whole house would remind him if it comes to that," retorted Clara, thinking of her room. "Why did he not sell the place at the time?"
"There was Isabella, you see."
"A child can adjust to being transplanted. She was only five."
"It wasn't as easy as that. Isabella has never been very strong, and Bennet thought it best for her to grow up here. Hasn't he talked to you about these things?"
"We have not had time to discuss anything much," Clara replied before she could stop herself.
Bethany's well-modeled eyebrows rose. "My dear little one! What on earth do you mean?" She said in a bid to annoy Clara.
"Exactly what I say." Clara replied, not giving a care.
At last Bethany's poise was punctured. 'The fool, the utter fool,' she thought angrily.... 'Bennet Lewin of all men to be caught by a scheming little seductress...'
"Where did you meet him?" she asked coldly, and did not realize how plainly her feelings showed on her face.
But Clara had had enough of her visitor. If Bennet had married her in order to escape from this situation, she was not going to put up with being patronized.
"I met him at a park," she said jauntily.
"A park..... Bennet?" Bethany was nearly definitely taken aback. Bennet was never the one to visit a park, not with Isabella nor anybody else. He rarely had time for the little witch. "He picked you up in a park?"
Clara's anger was evident. The effrontery for Bethany to use the word 'pick you up' like she was some piece of trash. She didn't indulge her with an answer. Bethany got to her feet.
"It all sounds like utter nonsense, and highly unlike Bennet," she said, then eyed Clara more closely. "Or were you, perhaps, pulling my leg?"
"Oh, no, I was not," said Clara innocently. "Will you stay for lunch, Miss Maloney?"
"No.....no, thank you," said Bethany hastily. "I'm expected home for lunch. Will you tell Bennet I called? I..... my mother is giving a little dinner party for you pretty soon. I'll share the details with you when we're all set."
"That will be very nice. I'll tell my husband," said Clara politely, and accompanied her guest to the door.
As she watched Bethany's car move off the driveway, she experienced an unwanted sense of depression. She shouldn't have sent her away with such a startling impression, and she suspected that Bennet would not be pleased if he knew.
Well, it was too late now. She had been childish and indiscreet, but there had been something about Bethany Maloney all along that had rubbed her off the wrong way. The clock at the dinning room chimed, and she turned reluctantly to face the fresh ordeal of lunch with Beatrice and Isabella.