And now once more Berenice began contrasting Stane with her aggressive and ruthless lover.
Cowperwood’s financial genius and lust for power were tempered, to a degree, by his love of art and beauty.
But Stane’s strongly developed aesthetic sense was dominant, and, besides, he likewise possessed wealth and personality, plus something Cowperwood could never achieve: the world’s acceptance of the significance of a distinguished title.
The contrast was intriguing, since so obviously she was making a marked impression on Stane.
English nobility as opposed to Frank Cowperwood, American financier and street railway magnate!
Riding under the trees on a dappled gray mare, she tried to think of herself as Lady Stane.
They might even have a son, heir to the earldom of Stane.
But then, alas, she thought of her mother, the notorious Hattie Starr, of Louisville, and her own left-handed relationship with Cowperwood which might appear as a scandal at any moment. For there was Aileen, and possibly Cowperwood’s anger and subsequent antagonism, which, considering his genius for intrigue and revenge, could take any form.
Her previous thrill vanished, mistlike, before the heat of reality.
For a moment she fairly froze because of the complications of her dilemma, but a second later she was partly soothed by Stane saying:
“Will you let me say that you are as brilliant and understanding as you are beautiful?”
And despite her saddened mood, Berenice waved a hand gayly in response.
“Why not?
Would you expect me to reject anything I do not deserve?”
Stane was still more intrigued, and so moved to think that the relationship between her and Cowperwood might be quite normal.
For the man must be all of fifty-five or sixty.
And Berenice looked to be no more than eighteen or nineteen.
Perhaps she was an illegitimate daughter.
On the other hand, was it not possible that actually, considering her youth and beauty, Cowperwood was hoping to intrigue her by gifts and attentions showered on her mother and herself?
For in studying Mrs. Carter, Stane had sensed something he could not easily explain.
Obviously, she was the girl’s mother, since Berenice resembled her so closely.
He was puzzled.
But now he wanted to take her to Tregasal, and meditating on how to do this, he said:
“One thing I must congratulate you on, Miss Fleming, and that is your possession of such a brilliant guardian.
I find him an exceedingly gifted person.”
“Yes, he is,” she said.
“And it’s interesting to know that you are co-operating with him, or thinking of doing so.”
“By the way,” he said, “do you know when he will be returning from America?”
“The last we heard was that he was in Boston,” she replied.
“And he had a lot of work to do in Chicago and other places.
Really, I don’t know when he’s likely to return.”
“When he does, perhaps I shall have the pleasure of entertaining you all together,” said Stane.
“But there’s still Tregasal, you know.
Will that need to wait on Mr. Cowperwood’s return?”
“Oh, I think so; at least, for three or four more weeks.
Mother isn’t feeling well, and her principal desire at the moment is to stay here and rest.”
She smiled reassuringly at him while feeling at the same time that once Cowperwood returned, or she had time to write or cable him, the thing might be arranged.
Personally, she would like nothing better than to accept this invitation.
And a friendship here, with Cowperwood’s approval if not his presence, might further his affairs in connection with Stane.
She would write Cowperwood at once.
“But after three or four weeks, do you think it will be possible?” asked Stane.
“I am quite sure of it.
And nothing would give us all greater pleasure, I assure you.”
And Stane accepted the mixed offer with the best grace in the world.
For, plainly, this young American beauty did not need him or Tregasal or his titled connections.
She was a person in her own right, and was to be accepted only on her own terms.
Chapter 44
Uncertain as Berenice was about the wisdom of developing this relationship, it was partially furthered by Cowperwood’s delay in returning.
For already he had written, and this on account of Lorna, that until the approaching presidential election was over, he could not return to London.
Also, he shrewdly added, if he could not very soon return, he would send for her to meet him in New York or Chicago.