Trilby. Diana Palmer

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      Incredible that she should pity him, she thought, watching his rigid features grow even harder. How terrible, to love someone who hated you…

      He looked down and caught her compassionate stare. It made him furious that she should feel sorry for him. It made him more furious that he’d begun to like her, to enjoy her company. She was a tramp, and he was letting himself be drawn into her sticky web. He was a fool!

      He threw the cigarette down in the dirt and reached for her.

      “I don’t need your pity,” he said curtly, staring at her mouth. “Not when you’re more contemptible than I’ll ever be!”

      His mouth bit into hers, twisting, hurting her. She gasped and tried to fight him, but he was much too strong. His arms were like vises, his mouth tasting of tobacco and pure man. He used his body like a weapon to humiliate her. His lean hands slid quickly to her hips and ground them against his thighs.

      The intimacy was staggering to a woman who’d barely been kissed before. Her body seemed to flush all over at the shock of feeling the changed contours of his body against her stomach. She cried out, furiously outraged and embarrassed by the unspeakable liberties he was taking, beating at him with her fists and trying to kick him.

      Surprised at her show of fury, he let her go. She stood glaring at him with a red face, her hair escaping from its tidy bun, her gray eyes blazing. She reached up and struck him across the mouth as hard as she could.

      “You savage!” she cried, shaking all over. “I knew…you were…no gentleman!” she raged.

      “And you’re no lady, you Louisiana tramp,” he said, without flinching from the blow. His eyes were like death as he looked at her. “If I were a little less civilized than I am, I’d throw you down in the dusty road and ravish you where you lay.”

      Her face went even redder. Her mouth trembled, tears formed in her eyes at the blatant insult. To think that dear, courtly Richard had never done more than touch her hand, and this savage had—had…

      “You lay one hand…on me…and I’ll hit you with a tree limb! How…dare you?” she choked, almost sobbing with rage. “I shall…tell my father!”

      “Do that,” he replied calmly, “and I’ll tell him about the affair you’re having with my married cousin!”

      She stared at him as if he’d gone mad. “What are you talking about?”

      “It’s too late to lie about it,” he told her, his voice cold with contempt. “Sally saw you and Curt kissing each other. She told me, several weeks before she died.”

      Her face went from red to deathly white. She faltered and almost fell. His hand shot out to steady her, but she threw it off, hating him.

      “That is a lie,” she whispered, shaking. “It is a vicious, unfounded lie!”

      “Why would my wife lie to me?” he drawled. “And she’s dead now. How convenient for you. She can hardly contradict you, can she?”

      She swallowed, and then swallowed again. She thought she might faint. She knew there wasn’t a drop of blood in her face. His expression told her that arguing with him wasn’t going to change his mind. He’d decided that his wife’s lie was gospel. Nothing she said was going to convince him that she’d done no more than talk to his cousin Curt.

      She lifted her hobble skirt with trembling cold hands and started unsteadily back toward the car.

      He followed her, opening her door with overblown courtesy.

      She didn’t look at him as she got in. She couldn’t bear to. She sat like a statue as he cranked the car and turned it back toward home.

      It wasn’t until he pulled up in her front yard that he spoke again. “There’s no use playing the martyr with me,” he said carelessly. “I know what you are.”

      “If I were a man, I would shoot you through the heart,” she said, choking. She was shaking with outrage and temper. “When I tell my father what you’ve accused me of, he probably will shoot you! I hope he does!”

      He raised both eyebrows. “You can’t possibly mean to actually confess to him?” he asked insolently. “You’ll destroy his illusions.”

      She controlled her urge to slap him again, but barely. “Mr. Vance,” she said, with cold indignation, “in order to conduct a clandestine relationship with your cousin, I should be obliged to leave the house after dark.”

      “That would be no problem. You have an automobile,” he reminded her.

      “I can neither drive nor ride a horse,” she said stiffly.

      He hesitated. “Then someone could have driven you.”

      She nodded. “Oh, of course. My parents would understand that I wanted to leave the house at night, alone, something I’ve never done in my life!”

      She was blowing holes in his theory. He frowned. He didn’t like the cold facts she was putting to him.

      “The incident Sally told me about was at a party that your parents attended,” he said, averting his eyes with growing unease.

      “I see. I’ve been prejudged, without even the chance to defend myself.” She stared straight ahead, shivering as a distasteful thought came to her. Her hands gripped her purse. “I suppose…your wife didn’t confine her confession to you.”

      “She told Lou, Curt’s wife,” he replied.

      Her eyes closed. So that explained why Curt’s wife had been glaring at her so furiously. Probably the vicious gossip had gone the rounds of the entire community. And all because she’d liked Curt and enjoyed talking to him. It had been perfectly innocent.

      “Why don’t you ask your cousin if I’ve been having an affair with him?” she asked weakly.

      “And have him lie to save your good name?” He laughed. “That would be intelligent, wouldn’t it?”

      “Mr. Vance, I should never think to accuse you of any intelligent act,” she said in a harsh tone. “As for your disgusting slander, it is unfounded and grossly unfair. Yes, I shall tell my parents.” She turned and looked at him fully. “The truth is the best weapon I know. And you, sir, will live to regret having accepted a lie without question—even from your late wife.”

      Her indignation registered then, and later. She got out of the car, avoiding his assistance, and marched toward the house. He went after her.

      Her parents and Teddy were not inside, so there was no necessity for him to explain Trilby’s hostility. Trilby went straight into her bedroom and slammed and locked the door with an audible click, without a single word to Thorn.

      He stood outside the closed door and his tall body went rigid. Why had she acted as if he’d done something unspeakable to her, when he was only telling the truth?

      “Oh, damn women!” he cursed violently, and went back out the door.

      When Jack and Mary came back, Trilby had just bathed her face and hands in cold water. But her СКАЧАТЬ