Read Online Magnolia by Diana Palmer - Free Book Online

concerned for Claire, it was for her reputation. God forbid that more gossip should be added to fan the already blazing fires.
    John let out a long sigh. Claire’s sudden pallor enhanced his guilt. “Certain sacrifices have to be expected in a marriage like ours.”
    â€œMy sacrifices, of course,” she said, nodding curtly. “You’ll go on as before, working fifteen-hour days and mooning over Diane.”
    The attack caught him off-guard. “Damn you!” he snapped.
    He seemed to implode, Claire thought. His eyes blazed at her, his stance threatened.
    She lifted her chin and moved toward him, utterly fearless. “Would you like to hit me? Go ahead. I’m not afraid of you. Do your worst. I’ve lost my uncle and my home and my independence. But I haven’t lost my pride and my self-respect, and nothing you can do will take those away.”
    â€œI don’t hit women,” he said icily. “But I won’t have you driving around in that motorcar alone. Try it again and I’ll cut the tires off the damned thing.”
    â€œJohn!” she burst out, shocked at hearing him curse not once but twice in less than a minute.
    He smiled coldly. “Do you think that because I work in a bank I don’t react like a normal man to things that anger me? I wore a uniform for several years, Claire, between graduating from the Citadel and going to Harvard. I was working in Atlanta when I reenlisted—long enough to fight in Cuba—but at one time, I never envisioned a life outside the military. I learned to conform to civilian life, because I had to. You’ll learn to conform to high society, because you have to. There’s been more than enough gossip about us already.”
    He hadn’t spoken to her like this before—and now he was making himself a stranger to her. She cleared her throat.
    â€œI had to get Chester here, didn’t I?”
    â€œChester?” he asked, scowling.
    She made an awkward motion with her hand. “My motorcar.”
    His eyes twinkled. She was an odd woman, he mused,full of spice and vinegar, but she gave a pet name to a piece of machinery.
    â€œI won’t drive it.” She finally agreed, although it was like giving up a part of herself. Apparently the cost of her support was going to be the suppression of her personality. “I can ride my wheel when I need exercise, I suppose.”
    â€œYou needn’t sound so tragic. I only wish you to act like the wife of the vice president of one of the most prestigious banks in the South,” he said, “instead of a little girl playing with dangerous toys.”
    Her gray eyes glittered. “A motorcar is hardly a toy.”
    â€œFor you, it is. Why don’t you spend some of this abundant free time you seem to have making friends or visiting or buying yourself some new clothes?” he asked irritably. “You’re living in the city now, not feeding your chickens and washing clothes like a countrywoman.”
    In other words, she had to behave as if she were good enough to be married to a bank officer with a Harvard degree. She felt pure dislike for him.
    â€œI shall try to give good value, sir,” she said haughtily, and curtsied.
    He looked as if he might like to give way to a string of curses, but before he could utter them, Claire beat an orderly retreat to her room and slammed the door behind her.
    A minute later, she opened it again, red-faced and furious. “Just to set the record straight, I was driving Chester up from Colbyville with my wheel tied on to save you the freight charges. And also for the record let me tell you thatI have no intention of terrorizing Atlanta or shocking your friends with Chester. I shall ride the trolley!”
    And she slammed the door again.
    John stared at the closed door with mingled reactions, the strongest of which was amusement. Claire was spirited, all right. It was a pity his heart was Diane’s,