Canning, and for Molly, a fact which surprised her. Here was one person who didn’t hold her previous bad behavior against her. Perhaps if one dug deep enough there were excuses, but at that point Molly couldn’t begin to fathom what they could be.
Nor was she particularly interested in hearing the details of all the evil she had done, at least, not from the one person who seemed to like her. Molly was simply glad to bask in the sudden affection. She was a good woman, Mrs. Morse, and it felt oddly encouraging to have her approval.
She heard the heavy footsteps first, followed by the peremptory knocking on her door. She leaned back, waiting, knowing perfectly well who was coming upstairs in such a towering rage. She had no intention of reacting if she could help it.
The door flew open and Patrick stood there, tall and lean against the doorway, and for a moment she felt a little clutching sense of longing. One that disappeared when she realized this wasn’t a friendly visit.
“I would have thought,” he said, his voice cold and cutting, “that you would have the common courtesy to abide by the schedule in this house. I should have known it would be too much to ask, but nevertheless I not only ask it, I demand it. You will come downstairs for drinks right now and be polite to our guests.
I suppose even you are capable of that much. ” The withering contempt cut through her as she lay there motionless.
“Now!” He moved into the room menacingly, and she sprang from the bed before she could stop herself.
He laughed then, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound.
“I’m glad to see I’m at least able to frighten you into decent behavior. We’ll be in the library.” He started
out the door, stopped and turned.
“By the way, in case you’ve forgotten, you usually dress for dinner.”
Molly could see from the faint light in the hall that he was still wearing his faded jeans, and she shrugged with a fine show of bravado.
“I have no clothes,” she said simply.
“These will have to do.”
“By that I assume you mean that your extravagant wardrobe no longer interests you and you wish to go out and spend a similar sum or more.” He shrugged.
“Be my guest. Mrs.
Morse can accompany you if you insist. After all, it’s your money. “
“How much money is there?” she demanded, scrambling off the bed.
“I wondered when you’d get around to asking,” he said with an unpleasant laugh.
“As a matter of fact, it was your seeming disinterest in money that almost had me believing your cock-and-bull story about amnesia.
I should have known you couldn’t keep it up. “
“I merely wanted to know,” she said in a cool voice, “if I have enough to buy you off. If I give it to you would you let me go?”
She’d managed to startle him.
“I don’t want your damned money,” he said bitterly.
“Then what do you want from me? Why did you marry me?” She scrambled off the bed, starting toward him. She was deliberately trying to goad him, and she told herself she was simply wanting to get the truth from him. And she knew she was lying. She was trying to goad him into touching her again.
She wanted to see if his touch still made her tremble, as it had last night.
He backed away, not bothering to hide his uneasiness.
“Be down in five minutes, Molly. Or I’ll come back to get you.”
It was supposed to be a threat. It sounded more like a temptation to Molly.
She waited just long enough before leaving the room~ running down the curving stairs swiftly, two at a time, knowing if she hesitated she would lose her courage. Stopping before the living room door, she heard the noise of glasses and ice, quiet laughter and camaraderie that would vanish the moment she appeared.
But appear she must—her husband had so decreed. Taking a deep breath, she ambled into the room with studied unconcern.
Patrick ignored her when she entered the room, busying himself at the bar.
“There you are, darling!” Lisa
Nor was she particularly interested in hearing the details of all the evil she had done, at least, not from the one person who seemed to like her. Molly was simply glad to bask in the sudden affection. She was a good woman, Mrs. Morse, and it felt oddly encouraging to have her approval.
She heard the heavy footsteps first, followed by the peremptory knocking on her door. She leaned back, waiting, knowing perfectly well who was coming upstairs in such a towering rage. She had no intention of reacting if she could help it.
The door flew open and Patrick stood there, tall and lean against the doorway, and for a moment she felt a little clutching sense of longing. One that disappeared when she realized this wasn’t a friendly visit.
“I would have thought,” he said, his voice cold and cutting, “that you would have the common courtesy to abide by the schedule in this house. I should have known it would be too much to ask, but nevertheless I not only ask it, I demand it. You will come downstairs for drinks right now and be polite to our guests.
I suppose even you are capable of that much. ” The withering contempt cut through her as she lay there motionless.
“Now!” He moved into the room menacingly, and she sprang from the bed before she could stop herself.
He laughed then, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound.
“I’m glad to see I’m at least able to frighten you into decent behavior. We’ll be in the library.” He started
out the door, stopped and turned.
“By the way, in case you’ve forgotten, you usually dress for dinner.”
Molly could see from the faint light in the hall that he was still wearing his faded jeans, and she shrugged with a fine show of bravado.
“I have no clothes,” she said simply.
“These will have to do.”
“By that I assume you mean that your extravagant wardrobe no longer interests you and you wish to go out and spend a similar sum or more.” He shrugged.
“Be my guest. Mrs.
Morse can accompany you if you insist. After all, it’s your money. “
“How much money is there?” she demanded, scrambling off the bed.
“I wondered when you’d get around to asking,” he said with an unpleasant laugh.
“As a matter of fact, it was your seeming disinterest in money that almost had me believing your cock-and-bull story about amnesia.
I should have known you couldn’t keep it up. “
“I merely wanted to know,” she said in a cool voice, “if I have enough to buy you off. If I give it to you would you let me go?”
She’d managed to startle him.
“I don’t want your damned money,” he said bitterly.
“Then what do you want from me? Why did you marry me?” She scrambled off the bed, starting toward him. She was deliberately trying to goad him, and she told herself she was simply wanting to get the truth from him. And she knew she was lying. She was trying to goad him into touching her again.
She wanted to see if his touch still made her tremble, as it had last night.
He backed away, not bothering to hide his uneasiness.
“Be down in five minutes, Molly. Or I’ll come back to get you.”
It was supposed to be a threat. It sounded more like a temptation to Molly.
She waited just long enough before leaving the room~ running down the curving stairs swiftly, two at a time, knowing if she hesitated she would lose her courage. Stopping before the living room door, she heard the noise of glasses and ice, quiet laughter and camaraderie that would vanish the moment she appeared.
But appear she must—her husband had so decreed. Taking a deep breath, she ambled into the room with studied unconcern.
Patrick ignored her when she entered the room, busying himself at the bar.
“There you are, darling!” Lisa
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