Chapter 54 – The Dalrymple Spa at Milsom Plaza

The next afternoon, Anne decided on a visit to the Elliot suite, hoping to show her willingness to be reconciled to her father instead of nursing the schism her absence the weekend before had created.

"Anne, it is good of you to call on us; dad was just speaking of you." Elizabeth's eyes expressed a mocking pleasure. "You must learn to be more considerate of him, you know. He is not so young and cannot handle such upsets as you gave him last week."

"He is not so very old, Elizabeth," ventured Penelope. Anne's sister ignored her.

"Promise him never to be so obstinate again. I am almost convinced that Dad will give up inviting you out with us if you do not."

"Oh," gasped Penelope, as though the thought was even a great punishment to her.

Anne walked in and greeted her father. "I suppose you have come to tell me something." The Great Elliot gazed upon her expectantly.

Anne swallowed the pill of her father's infantility and stated, "I regret having missed the Dame's Spa Opening. I know it meant much to you that I should meet her."

Walter Elliot admitted, "It was very trying for me to have to find another guest on such short notice. I hate to attend events with an odd number; you know that. Besides, what good is it to me to discuss her with you when you have not, as yet, met her, much less had any conversation." As an afterthought, Walter Elliot stated, "You know, you ought to go with your sister today. Then you will have the benefit of informing the Dame of your delight in the new facility when you come to the gala on Friday."

Her father's suggestion befuddled her, and she did not respond immediately. Certainly she had no desire to be disagreeable to his request. In fact, she had prepared herself to do just the opposite, leaving her with no ready excuse; she felt she must comply. Yet she wondered at this whim of his. Would a day at the Dame's spa make such an impact? And to what gala was her father referring? Anne voiced the latter question and was informed, "Connie is hosting a small gathering in honor of Carolus Fonta. I will want to introduce you to her before the concert, for there is never time for introductions when the cameras are flashing. Oh, that reminds me, has your sister left yet?" Walter Elliot had a servant search out the whereabouts of his eldest daughter.

Anne heard the doorbell. "Who else might be here this early?" he questioned, looking at his watch apprehensively.

Shortly thereafter, Raoul entered the room, followed by Penelope and Elizabeth. "I did not know you were with your father," the guest addressed Anne. He made his apologies for having intruded on their conversation.

"Never mind that," the older man answered Raoul; a conversation with Anne was not of any consequence to Elliot. "Elizabeth, did you already make the change in the accent color I will wear to the concert?"

"Yes, to the pearl-gray, like you wanted."

"I have decided to go with the cerulean again," he stated, adding, "I am certain to clash with what the Dame has chosen if I wear the gray. There are so many shades of gray. Oh, and Anne, be sure to wear a lighter color. No black or navy. You have a tendency to wear darker shades, and they will weigh down my ensemble when you are beside me." He nodded to his younger daughter and addressed Elizabeth again, "I have decided Anne will accompany you to the spa today. I'm sure I have no need for her." He did not notice Elizabeth's expression of dismay as he told Anne, "Be sure to tell them that you are the daughter of the Great Elliot."

"She can try, but I doubt there will be an opening for her. It is by reservation only," Elizabeth replied smugly.

"Really-," began Anne.

"She can have my appointment," interrupted Penelope. "I will stay here with your father."

Anne was ready to sincerely object to Mrs. Clay's offer, but was cut short by Elizabeth's exclamation. "No! That is out of the question!" she stated, openly irritated by her friend's suggestion. "Why would I want to go with Anne?"

"I should be delighted to keep you company, if that is the concern," Raoul volunteered, speaking directly to Elliot.

"What has put it into your heads that I need someone with me?" Walter Elliot reacted brusquely. He recalled himself, stating, "I think you should all go to the spa."

"Of course," The vicomte spoke as if Elliot's words were not the least bit offensive. The younger man's charming abilities confounded Anne. Was he consistently so agreeable, with never a thought for what might be his own taste for enjoyment?

"And Anne, if you can do no more, at least you should take a tour of the facilities. I don't want you to be completely ignorant of the establishment in the Dame's presence," directed Elliot.

"Let us go. We shall be late, if we do not," Elizabeth commanded. Her face displayed chagrin, but she did not attempt to go against her father's wishes. This silence was uncharacteristic of the older sister, but Anne did not dwell further on it. She was still undecided as to whether she would go or no and conducted herself as though she might decline to accompany the two who hurried out of the room. Raoul awaited her. "Well, go on. You may tell me your impressions when you return," urged her father.

It had not been in Anne's mind to go to the Dalrymple Pampering Spa in the least. She had felt both compelled by her father and repulsed by Elizabeth. Seated in the vehicle beside Penelope Clay, she fully regretted that she had not made excuse before entering therein. Elizabeth only made terse remarks and kept her eyes on the buildings outside. Raoul, sitting beside Elizabeth, did his best to make polite inquiries to each of the sisters.

Penelope Clay was searching her purse, casually at first, and then diligently. "I cannot find my cream!" she finally admitted.

"Oh, Penelope. You make too much of father's injunctions to you. If you don't have the Gowland's with you, it will not be of any consequence." A newspaper clipping had dropped from Mrs. Clay's purse, and Anne reached down to retrieve it. Immediately she noted the figures displayed thereon. It was a picture of her father, Elizabeth, and Penelope on the avenue. In the photograph, her sister's head was turned, and she looked to be shielding her face. Yet, a beguiling smile was upon it; as though her attempts to detract from herself were all a ruse. The features of Mrs. Clay beside her were blurred and candid. Walter Elliot was flashing his trademark expression; his eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on his lips. The headline read, "Great Elliot takes residence in Big Apple."

"Isn't it a very becoming likeness of your father?" asked Penelope as Anne handed the paper back to her. Elizabeth glanced at the clipping.

"Oh, that was taken months ago," scoffed Elizabeth. "I can't believe you kept it, Penelope. Besides, if you or any fan wanted a good photo of him, he'd gladly give it. He has thousands of them, and all autographed."

Raoul, perceiving the subject, allowed his eyes to linger on Anne's for a moment. The woman knew what he was thinking and recalled his implications two days before regarding the influence of Penelope Clay. To be photographed with the blonde-haired woman on his arm, whether his daughter accompanied them or not, was a palpable means of alerting the attention of the public to Walter Elliot's partiality. He had ventured out with her to many an event, having been seen at every function with Elizabeth and her friend. Anne felt a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. The night at the Crescent came back to her fully. While she had witnessed another example of her father's extravagance in buying Mrs. Clay a costly dessert, she had not seen it in the light that some would; he had done so to curry the woman's favor, an uncharacteristic gesture for her father! She scolded herself for not taking the situation as seriously as she should have. Yet, what could be done? She could not demand that Penelope Clay leave the suite at Camden Place! Elizabeth would never have it; her sister, if nothing else, would be insulted that Anne interfered.

"What part of Milsom Plaza, Miss Elliot?" asked the driver as they neared their destination.

"Park in the north garage. It is the closest to the spa entrance. After we finish shopping, you will meet us at the front of the building which abuts this street. Over there, you see?" The driver nodded.

Inside the building, Elizabeth and Penelope meandered behind Raoul and Anne, the older sister basking in her sour mood brought on by the additional company of her sister. Anne and her cousin stepped into one of the four elevators on the floor, and they waited, holding the door for the other two to join them. The door to the elevator in the corner was opening, and from it stepped a tall man. Elizabeth could clearly see that the man was exiting the elevator, and her elevator was being held for her. Yet she cut in front of him to enter the box held by her cousin and sister. He considerately waited for Elizabeth and Penelope to go before him into the elevator before continuing down the hall. Anne heard him speak some polite word, but Elizabeth did not trouble herself to respond. She merely looked up at him with an expression that clearly stated, 'How dare you speak to me.' Her sister had just snubbed Frederik Wentworth!

His back was to Anne as he proceeded on his way, and she knew he had not espied her in the lift. Yet Anne wanted to call out to him. She wanted to show him that she would acknowledge his kindness. The elevator door was closing before she could find her tongue.

"Did you see who that was?" Elizabeth asked Penelope when the elevator started its ascent. She smiled superiorly as she announced, "It was Frederik Wentworth, the one who wrote the music for the Siren of the Laconia." She crossed her arms and absently watched the numbers on the display progress upward. "That should put him in his place."

Anne did not even look at Raoul, for she felt so embarrassed by her sister's behavior. She had wanted to ask whether her cousin knew the musician, but she would not bring his name forward to be abused by her sister.

At the door to the spa entrance, she thought to find some way to excuse herself and follow after Frederik. She had no doubt he knew who her sister was; over the years the many photos taken of the Great Elliot's eldest daughter had changed very little. Elizabeth was still just as stunning as she had been at eighteen.

In the lobby, Elizabeth was speaking with the person at the front desk about openings for her sister. The receptionist expressed dismay and stated, "We only accept appointments."

"Can you not make an exception?" asserted Raoul. Anne stood back and pretended to admire the room. She felt ambiguous; it would suit her just as well to be denied a spot. She could not disentangle her mind from Elizabeth's rudeness. Oh, how Anne wished that her sister had not dismissed Frederik Wentworth!

"We can try, but we have an increasing number of clients, sir. I will make inquiries, if you will be seated."

The assistant returned and apologized. They could take only the two original appointments. As Elizabeth and Penelope were admitted, Raoul asked if they might not take a tour of the establishment.

"It cannot be accomplished today; I am sorry," was the reply. "Our website will be accessible in a day or so, and you may take the virtual tour."

Raoul led Anne from the Dalrymple Spa into the main building. She slowed her pace as she entered the hall where she had first espied Frederik. It flitted through her mind to question why he had been in the same building, of all the businesses in the vast city!

"Shall I take you back to your father's residence?" They were taking another route which would lead them out of the front doors to the street. As they neared the large glass panes of the main entrance, they immediately perceived the state of matters beyond the building. It was pouring rain. If they ventured beyond the overhang of the roofline, which jutted out some ten feet, they would forthwith come in contact with the quickly-falling shower. He opened the door to her and stated, "If you do not mind waiting here, I will find a cab." Anne nodded as the noise of the city flooded her ears. Raoul lifted his arm to shield his eyes from the torrent, and she waited under the canopy, keeping him in sight.

So intent was she upon Raoul's progress, that she was not aware of the goings on about her. A man stopped beside her and asked, "Would you like an umbrella?"

Her first reaction was to believe a vendor was taking advantage of the downpour to sell his wares. Instinctively she gave an assertive, "No."

But her heart knew otherwise and leapt at the sound of the voice. She knew who addressed her before her quick eyes focused on him. "I was taking a call and saw you pass by. I have come prepared for the day," he stated jovially, motioning to the umbrella in his hand. He was trying to soften the surprise of their meeting, she supposed. Feeling abashed by her short reply, she continued to stare at him dumfounded.

"Hello," she was finally able to respond, simply.

Frederik Wentworth came toward her. "Here. You are getting rained on," he observed, opening the umbrella and directing it so that it would shield her. For the wind made the structure she stood under of hardly any avail in keeping the rain from spraying its crystal droplets onto her hair and cinnamon-colored blouse. He was so close beside her that she fancied she could smell his scent, even in the freshness of the precipitation about them. Unfortunately for Raoul, she forgot to continue looking out for his indication that he had procured a cab.

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A/N: Yes, another evil cliffy. (Muwahahaha!)

Ana-Misa: Loved this line: "Anne doesn't like being seen as a pawn, to be maneuvered on this gameboard of romantic intrigue." Exactly. She's not a tease, and she's not over Frederik. Yes, Elliot's disdain for the musical shows how much he believes his opinion matters.

Misty Breyer: Ha; To Catch a Thief! Yes, I see what you mean; though Cary Grant continues to be my second favorite actor. Laura Carteret will make a few appearances.