The Velvet Glove by Mary Williams Read Free Book Online

far had been so amicable and pleasantly exciting, the wedding at Lynchester Cathedral a public triumph, to cause an unnecessary jarring note would be foolish on her part, and quite ineffectual, for she had already sensed in the short time of her marriage that when Rick Ferris set his mind to a thing he somehow carried it through.
    ‘ I want you to be pleasant to Mrs Wade,’ he said. ‘She has valuable contacts in London and abroad. Her experience theatrically, and with the Press is considerable. And I’m thinking of launching a monthly Pictorial Gazette dealing specifically with social matters, also with stage and cinema gossip. Picture houses are starting up. Already a film theatre has been built in Pittsburg. In another decade no city in this country will be without one – and I mean to be in a good thing at the very beginning. So – just be your most charming self tonight, will you?’ A finger touched the back of her bare neck seductively, and from there travelled down the course of one white shoulder to a breast dislodging the flimsy wrap so it fell to her waist revealing a froth of underwear. She turned her head smiling up at him. ‘Oh, Rick! Really . Of course I will.’
    He nodded, paused a moment staring at her reflectively, then gave a little jerk to the loosening of her corsets. ‘That’s my girl. My own sweet wife.’
    A moment later she was lying supine and lovely beneath him on the bed, her luxurious hair spilling its cloud over the silk pillow, forgetful of everything in that brief sensuous interlude – even Jon, although when all was over it was still Jon she thought of, with a sense of shame, and romantic longing.
    She felt confused and faintly condemning.
    Rick was so practical . So somehow self-assured, accepting, even demanding, everything as his right.
    The way he stood at that moment before the mirror – her mirror – regarding his countenance while feeling the line of his strong jaw and recently shadowed chin, his complacency as he jerked the cord of his silk wrap tightly above the athletic hips, the hips of a horseman, irritated her.
    It was not himself he should be thinking of, but still her , so recently ravished.
    Slightly deflated, she swung her long legs out of the bed.
    ‘ When you’ve finished, darling,’ she said, ‘would you mind sparing an inch or two of the mirror? We have guests coming. Remember?’
    He turned quickly to glance at her, a quirk of amusement about his lips.
    ‘Sorry, madam. My pleasure.’
    He stepped aside and pushed the chair into its place; she adjusted her underwear, tied the frilled petticoat at her waist and, before seating herself, said ‘Do you mind pulling this lacing up, Rick. I really haven’t got time to fiddle now. Your – guests are due to arrive in less than an hour, and there are certain things downstairs I have to attend to.’
    ‘ Of course. But I think you’ll agree our little diversion was worth it.’
    She didn ’t reply. Little diversion. How trivial a phrase to use. And yet how apt, how characteristic somehow of this worldly man she had married. And how little she really knew of him. Was that, for instance, indicative of his attitude to women in general? In particular to his former mistress – if what rumour said was true – the widow, Mrs Wade, who she was due to entertain that evening?
    A mounting sense of rivalry quickened in her, a spurt of temper which she controlled with an effort. Rick must never know she felt a shred of resentment towards any former amour of his. To do so would be undignified, and place her at an unpleasant disadvantage emotionally.
    However, following the fleeting confusion of doubts, the trivialities of final preparations and mounting tension heralding the enforced meeting ahead, the event itself once under way, went more easily than Kate had anticipated.
    The dinner itself was excellently prepared, and served, at the long mahogany table glinting with glass and silver under crystal chandeliers, with