When she was not at all ready to see him, and just as if he was expecting her first port of call would be the kitchen, he was there waiting for her when she went in. He was standing staring moodily out of the kitchen window, but turned about at the surprised sound of her `Oh!' `Don't worry,' he said gruffly, as if believing her cry had been from alarm rather than the surprise that it was. `I won't be doing that again in a hurry.'
Varnie felt herself go scarlet as she recalled the warm touch of his hands on her naked breasts and lower belly. Never had she known such intimacy. She pulled herself together. `Can I have that in writing?' she asked waspishly. And, feeling choked all at once just from being in the same room with him, `I'm going for a walk!' she announced stiffly.
`You're not leaving?' he questioned sharply.
'What-and deprive myself of your delightful company'
He smiled. He actually smiled at her acid. `And there was I thinking I might have irreparably damaged you. You're still smart in the mouth department, I see.'
She gave him a disgusted look and went out into the hall. She grabbed up her jacket from a peg by the rear door and took herself off.
Toad, she fumed as she trudged along, everything that had happened churning over and over in her head. She wanted to hate him for the fright he had given her. Yet how could she hate him? He had never intended his lovemaking if you could call it that-to go very far. Just enough to pay her back, maybe.
Somehow on that walk-and she supposed she must have been out for a couple of hours Varnie slowly came to the conclusion that, given the lies she had allowed Leon to believe with regard to her love-life and the experience he must have assumed that she had she had got off more lightly than perhaps she deserved. She was dogged by an innate fairness that tripped her up to remind her that it couldn't be every day-or ever-that some female, without the least encouragement from him, piped up and claimed him as her fianc�. So ask yourself, Varnie Sutton, did you suppose he would meekly sit back and say nothing? Did you expect to escape without some kind of censure, some kind of punishment? Particularly when you were aware that at this present time he had had his fill of women? She supposed not.
It still didn't make what had gone on right, though. But as she returned to Aldwyn House, entering through the gates at the end of her walk, she found she had mellowed From being upset with him to being on the way to thinking that perhaps Leon was more sinned against than sinning.
And such way of thinking would never do, she told herself sternly. Had she forgotten that he was more or less blackmailing her to stay on? Yet, again, was he? She recalled how, up in her room, immediately after he had gone, she had somehow felt strangely reluctant to leave-and that had had nothing to do with her brother.
She recalled too, when she'd said she was going for a walk, how Leon had sharply questioned, `You're not leaving?' Just as if he did not want her to go...
Well, of course he didn't want her to go. Who else would cook and clean for him if she wasn't there? Who would feed the brute? It was only his stomach he was thinking about. Though as she entered the house she all at once realised that the brute had not been fed. She should have made him a sandwich over an hour ago! She went into the kitchen, mentally debating whether she felt forgiving enough to make him a snack, only to discover that she had no need to. He had made her one!
Feeling slightly stunned that in making his own sandwich he had made a sandwich for her too, Varnie experienced an overwhelming softening for him. He need not have. But he had. It was thoughtful of him, and it showed another facet of the man she was trying hard to hate, but who somehow she could not hate.
Weird, she decided. Perhaps his over familiarity with her had tilted her world temporarily sideways? She decided there
Varnie felt herself go scarlet as she recalled the warm touch of his hands on her naked breasts and lower belly. Never had she known such intimacy. She pulled herself together. `Can I have that in writing?' she asked waspishly. And, feeling choked all at once just from being in the same room with him, `I'm going for a walk!' she announced stiffly.
`You're not leaving?' he questioned sharply.
'What-and deprive myself of your delightful company'
He smiled. He actually smiled at her acid. `And there was I thinking I might have irreparably damaged you. You're still smart in the mouth department, I see.'
She gave him a disgusted look and went out into the hall. She grabbed up her jacket from a peg by the rear door and took herself off.
Toad, she fumed as she trudged along, everything that had happened churning over and over in her head. She wanted to hate him for the fright he had given her. Yet how could she hate him? He had never intended his lovemaking if you could call it that-to go very far. Just enough to pay her back, maybe.
Somehow on that walk-and she supposed she must have been out for a couple of hours Varnie slowly came to the conclusion that, given the lies she had allowed Leon to believe with regard to her love-life and the experience he must have assumed that she had she had got off more lightly than perhaps she deserved. She was dogged by an innate fairness that tripped her up to remind her that it couldn't be every day-or ever-that some female, without the least encouragement from him, piped up and claimed him as her fianc�. So ask yourself, Varnie Sutton, did you suppose he would meekly sit back and say nothing? Did you expect to escape without some kind of censure, some kind of punishment? Particularly when you were aware that at this present time he had had his fill of women? She supposed not.
It still didn't make what had gone on right, though. But as she returned to Aldwyn House, entering through the gates at the end of her walk, she found she had mellowed From being upset with him to being on the way to thinking that perhaps Leon was more sinned against than sinning.
And such way of thinking would never do, she told herself sternly. Had she forgotten that he was more or less blackmailing her to stay on? Yet, again, was he? She recalled how, up in her room, immediately after he had gone, she had somehow felt strangely reluctant to leave-and that had had nothing to do with her brother.
She recalled too, when she'd said she was going for a walk, how Leon had sharply questioned, `You're not leaving?' Just as if he did not want her to go...
Well, of course he didn't want her to go. Who else would cook and clean for him if she wasn't there? Who would feed the brute? It was only his stomach he was thinking about. Though as she entered the house she all at once realised that the brute had not been fed. She should have made him a sandwich over an hour ago! She went into the kitchen, mentally debating whether she felt forgiving enough to make him a snack, only to discover that she had no need to. He had made her one!
Feeling slightly stunned that in making his own sandwich he had made a sandwich for her too, Varnie experienced an overwhelming softening for him. He need not have. But he had. It was thoughtful of him, and it showed another facet of the man she was trying hard to hate, but who somehow she could not hate.
Weird, she decided. Perhaps his over familiarity with her had tilted her world temporarily sideways? She decided there
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