dared come at all.”
By the time Molly entered the dining room she noticed with a grimace that Lisa had taken the traditional seat for the woman of the household, at the foot of the table opposite Patrick, and she was relegated to a seat next to Willy. She sank down with sullen grace, wondering once more what she could have possibly done to have turned her family and friends against her. And what further insults would she have to bear while she remained a prisoner in this house. At least there was Toby, looking across at her with undisguised admiration.
She tried to concentrate on that, shutting out the sound of Lisa’s arch laughter as she flirted with Patrick.
“Molly, darling.” Lisa turned to her in a coaxing voice.
“Pat says you want to do some clothes shopping.
I’d be delighted to come with you, give you a few pointers on style.
“
Her expression told Molly that she badly needed all the help she could get.
“No, thank you, Lisa.” She managed to control the faintly homicidal urge that was building up in her.
“Mrs. Morse will come with me—I wouldn’t think of bothering you.”
“But darling, it’s no bother,” she protested prettily.
“Remember what fun we had, picking all your other clothes? I’ve always helped you choose; you know I love to do it.”
So she had Lisa to thank for that closet full of unsuitable clothes, Molly thought. And I bet she did it on purpose.
“No, I don’t think so, Lisa. I prefer to choose my own clothes.” Her voice was cool and firm, and there was nothing Lisa could do but shrug her elegant shoulders and exchange a look with Patrick as if to say, what can I do?
Toby tried to smooth over the moment of tension by expressing a sudden interest in the weather, but Molly had finally had enough of the strained atmosphere and subtle sniping.
Of the secrets that no one was supposed to mention.
“Tell me, Lisa,” she said in a casual voice, flashing her as false a smile as she’d been given.
“When is it that you and Patrick plan to . marry?”
“I beg your pardon?” Lisa demanded in frosty tones.
Molly took a bite out of the rich chocolate cake Mrs. Morse had provided for dessert, revelling in the shocked expressions of all those around the table. She looked up with innocent eyes.
“I just thought it would be easier if I knew what your schedule was. Your husband’s been dead… how long? I think I was told it was five weeks, is that right? And I gather you’ve both been planning this for years, so I’d hate to make you drag out any role-playing as a grieving widow.” Molly’s eyes drifted down Lisa’s seductive apparel with a faint smile.
“Perhaps you could persuade my husband to get an apmiment somewhere while we wait for the divorce to go through. I wouldn’t want to era rap your style, and you are so good at persuading Any husband.”
“Get out of here,” Patrick said quietly. Molly turned her blandly innocent smile in his direction, wanting to lash out and hurt him.
“But why are you so mad, darling?” She mimicked Lisa’s tone of voice perfectly.
“You shouldn’t let the fact that her husband’s barely cold in the ground get in the way of your plans. After all, you only married me because you couldn’t have her. And now you’ve got her. Happy happy, joy joy.” She rose and stalked out of the room, anger finally taking control. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard him coming after her. Stifling a sudden, panic-stricken desire to run and lock herself in that sybaritic room, she turned at the top of the stairs and waited for him with spurious calm.
He caught her wrist in a grip that was almost painful, his blue eyes dark with anger.
“What the hell did you mean by that little scene in there?” he demanded.
“Isn’t it true?” she asked quietly.
“Isn’t every word I said true?”
“You have no right to criticize anybody. Not when you’re dealing with gossip and suppositions and half truths he said
By the time Molly entered the dining room she noticed with a grimace that Lisa had taken the traditional seat for the woman of the household, at the foot of the table opposite Patrick, and she was relegated to a seat next to Willy. She sank down with sullen grace, wondering once more what she could have possibly done to have turned her family and friends against her. And what further insults would she have to bear while she remained a prisoner in this house. At least there was Toby, looking across at her with undisguised admiration.
She tried to concentrate on that, shutting out the sound of Lisa’s arch laughter as she flirted with Patrick.
“Molly, darling.” Lisa turned to her in a coaxing voice.
“Pat says you want to do some clothes shopping.
I’d be delighted to come with you, give you a few pointers on style.
“
Her expression told Molly that she badly needed all the help she could get.
“No, thank you, Lisa.” She managed to control the faintly homicidal urge that was building up in her.
“Mrs. Morse will come with me—I wouldn’t think of bothering you.”
“But darling, it’s no bother,” she protested prettily.
“Remember what fun we had, picking all your other clothes? I’ve always helped you choose; you know I love to do it.”
So she had Lisa to thank for that closet full of unsuitable clothes, Molly thought. And I bet she did it on purpose.
“No, I don’t think so, Lisa. I prefer to choose my own clothes.” Her voice was cool and firm, and there was nothing Lisa could do but shrug her elegant shoulders and exchange a look with Patrick as if to say, what can I do?
Toby tried to smooth over the moment of tension by expressing a sudden interest in the weather, but Molly had finally had enough of the strained atmosphere and subtle sniping.
Of the secrets that no one was supposed to mention.
“Tell me, Lisa,” she said in a casual voice, flashing her as false a smile as she’d been given.
“When is it that you and Patrick plan to . marry?”
“I beg your pardon?” Lisa demanded in frosty tones.
Molly took a bite out of the rich chocolate cake Mrs. Morse had provided for dessert, revelling in the shocked expressions of all those around the table. She looked up with innocent eyes.
“I just thought it would be easier if I knew what your schedule was. Your husband’s been dead… how long? I think I was told it was five weeks, is that right? And I gather you’ve both been planning this for years, so I’d hate to make you drag out any role-playing as a grieving widow.” Molly’s eyes drifted down Lisa’s seductive apparel with a faint smile.
“Perhaps you could persuade my husband to get an apmiment somewhere while we wait for the divorce to go through. I wouldn’t want to era rap your style, and you are so good at persuading Any husband.”
“Get out of here,” Patrick said quietly. Molly turned her blandly innocent smile in his direction, wanting to lash out and hurt him.
“But why are you so mad, darling?” She mimicked Lisa’s tone of voice perfectly.
“You shouldn’t let the fact that her husband’s barely cold in the ground get in the way of your plans. After all, you only married me because you couldn’t have her. And now you’ve got her. Happy happy, joy joy.” She rose and stalked out of the room, anger finally taking control. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard him coming after her. Stifling a sudden, panic-stricken desire to run and lock herself in that sybaritic room, she turned at the top of the stairs and waited for him with spurious calm.
He caught her wrist in a grip that was almost painful, his blue eyes dark with anger.
“What the hell did you mean by that little scene in there?” he demanded.
“Isn’t it true?” she asked quietly.
“Isn’t every word I said true?”
“You have no right to criticize anybody. Not when you’re dealing with gossip and suppositions and half truths he said
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