Sweet Bondage by Dorothy Vernon Page A

you’re regretting your part?’
    â€˜My part!’ she said in rising indignation. ‘I’ll tell you what my part amounts to. If I hadn’t skipped out of the house with the intention of trying to take the boat you wouldn’t have followed and I don’t suppose you would have had cause to talk to Andy and you wouldn’t have known that he’d been drinking.’
    â€˜You could be right about that.’
    â€˜I’m glad I’m right about something. It makes a change. As far as Andy is concerned, in one way I’m sorry he’s got the sack because I don’t like to hear of anyone losing their livelihood, and especially not because of me.’
    â€˜Don’t burden your conscience on that score. You’ll observe that I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and assuming that somewhere in that self-centered and conniving little head of yours there is a conscience. Andy got the push because he took a dram too many. If it hadn’t happened today it would have happened at some later date.’
    â€˜Don’t get me wrong. I feel as though it’s through me, even though I’m no way to blame, but I’m certainly not sorry that I won’t have to see him again. I wish I’d never got involved.’
    She was aware of the disdain in his eyes and hated him for it.
    â€˜You should regard this as a lesson, then. In the future, only seduce men who can take it.’
    â€˜That’s the most preposterous, unfounded accusation you’ve thrown at me yet. I did not seduce Andy. I asked him if he would take me over to the mainland. He strung me along that he might, and then he made a grab for me. Something like that couldn’t happen to you, more’s the pity, and you don’t seem to possess the compassion to know that it isn’t a very pleasant experience.’
    â€˜Come on. Andy wouldn’t have dared to lay a finger on you if you hadn’t made an offer.’
    â€˜Believe what you want. You always do. When I said I wished I’d never got involved I didn’t mean just over this. I meant right from the beginning.’
    â€˜I imagine that Ian does, too.’
    â€˜I’ve never met Ian.’ She might as well not have spoken.
    â€˜You bewitched him. If he hadn’t fallen for those wide, melting eyes and that beguilingly pure and angelic little face he would have got round to marrying Fiona and he wouldn’t be where he is now.’
    â€˜Got round to marrying Fiona?’ she said, jumping on that, her brow crinkling on the cold tone in which he spoke. ‘That sounds a negative approach to marriage. I might even risk a calculated guess that in considering it Ian would have been bending to family pressure.’
    â€˜Fiona would have been a sensible match for Ian. She’s sweet and affectionate, with a keen sense of loyalty and moral responsibility and she keeps her nose clean. Ian should have had his head examined for preferring a packet of trouble like you.’
    â€˜Why bother about Ian?’ she flashed at him. ‘Why be so altruistic as to let your brother pick this peach of a girl from under your nose? Why don’t you marry her yourself?’
    â€˜I could do worse.’
    â€˜Huh! It wouldn’t do for me. I can see it all so clearly. Your perfectly laundered socks would always be in matched pairs, your slippers warming by the fire, your favorite meals cooked to perfection, no hint of extravagance and little wifey falling into a faint if another man so much as looked at her. So tediously predictable.’ She raked her hand through her hair, as if by doing so she could bring the words she was searching for out of her head. ‘Believe me, I’m not scoffing at those qualities in a marriage, just as long as they’re not the reason for getting married in the first place.’
    â€˜Interesting. What would your reason be for getting married?’
    â€˜That’s