Classic Love: 7 Vintage Romances (163 page)

BOOK: Classic Love: 7 Vintage Romances
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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he said, and he seemed to tower over her. He was so damned tall.
He could overpower me in a minute
, she thought, and was half drawn to the idea.
I’m a goose
, she told herself sternly.
How dare I want to be abused? What’s the matter with me?
“The whole thing is very amusing, only I’m not laughing,” she flared.

“What
is
this?” he asked. “I kiss you, and that was absolutely all, and now … what
is
this?”

“A grade C movie rape scene,” she said scathingly.

“But I’m in love with you.”

“If you don’t take me home this instant, I’ll walk. It may take me three days, but I’ll walk.”

“Now you listen to me,” he said, grabbing for her.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Dinah …”

She eluded him. “Yes, and it’s a very funny thing,” she raged. “You know all about me, but I don’t know a blessed thing about you. You’ve met my family. My sister. My brother-in-law. You’ve met my patients. But I haven’t met your friends. Or your family. You know where I work and where I live. I don’t know one single thing about you. You appear out of the blue one day, a mystery man. You must live somewhere! You must have a family!” She gestured, an arm sweeping the room. “This place belongs to one of your friends, you say. Whoever that friend may be.”

Her eyes blazed. “How dare you proposition me!”

“Dinah, I didn’t realize,” he said, looking absolutely astonished. “Mystery man? Why … I … what makes you say such a thing?”

“Because who are you? Whose place is this? Where do you live? Suddenly you seem very sinister.”

She drew herself up. “I refuse to be someone’s prey,” she said loudly. “It’s disgusting. I think you’re one of those rich, careless people who think they can do anything they want. Only you can’t. Not with someone like me. Never mind, don’t take me home. I’ll walk. There must be a station somewhere around here. I’ll take a train. Thank God I have money in my handbag.”

“That will do,” Dick said quietly. “We’ll leave right away. Does that satisfy you? You’ll be back at the Wallaces by eleven-thirty.”

“Yes. Thank you very, very much.”

“Not at all.”

“I’m
most
grateful.”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I won’t be a minute.”

She collected her possessions. In the bathroom she bathed her face and then dusted some powder across her sunburned nose. Her face flamed.
I’ve blown it
, she thought.
I’m suspicious and stupid and middle-class.
But she couldn’t help it.

And she’d almost given in to him. That was what he had wanted.

Was that all he had wanted?

I’m so unhappy
, she reflected miserably.

“How about some coffee?” Dick asked, halfway toward home.

“What?”

“I think we ought to stop off for coffee.”

There was a long silence while Dinah considered. He wanted to stop off for coffee. In spite of herself her spirits lightened. After all, if he was just going to take her home and ditch her, write her off as a bad try and a poor guess, why would he suggest stopping off for coffee?

“Let’s, okay?”

“All right.”

The bright lights of the roadside diner were dazzling after the dark silent drive. They went in and sat in a booth. “How do you want your hamburger?” Dick asked, when the man came over.

“Hamburger?” She was shocked, sickened. He could eat? He thought
she
could eat? Wildly, she considered taking the veil. Just cloister herself in a nunnery and seal the world off her.

“Rare or medium rare?” Dick asked, leaning forward so that she had to meet his eyes.

“I don’t want a hamburger,” she said sulkily. She was wary. Was that a smile behind his eyes?

“Please. We have some talking to do. Let’s do it over a hamburger.”

“I don’t know what talking we have to do.”

The waiter stood patiently, his eyes going from one to the other … as though, Dinah thought, he were watching a tennis match. It was no time to feel frivolous, yet she couldn’t help it. She was suddenly able, God knew why, to see the funny side of it.

“Rare,” she said. “With bacon, please. I’d like the bacon nice and crisp.”

“Make it two,” Dick said, and suddenly left alone by the departure of the waiter, they smiled at each other. “Oh, Dinah,” Dick said, shaking his head. “I had no way of knowing you felt the way you said you did. About not knowing my family. I have so little in the way of family. It’s odd, though, because there is someone I’d like you to meet. Someone I’m very fond of. A dear old auntie of mine.”

“Oh.”

“You’ll like her, I’m sure. And she’ll like you.”

“Well …”

“I’m sorry you got the wrong impression.”

“I just didn’t know what to think,” she said in a small voice.

“Anyway, it’s all right now, isn’t it?”

“I guess so. I hope so. I didn’t mean to sound like a shrew.”

“Let’s forget about it.”

“All right, let’s.”

“Next Thursday, then? Your evening off?”

“You mean meet your aunt?”

“Yes. I’ll call her tomorrow morning.”

“It would be lovely.”

“Then it’s a date. Ah, our baconburgers.”

I was wrong
, Dinah thought, eating ravenously. All the time she had been wrong. He could have forced her, but he hadn’t. She was going to meet his family … his aunt …

“Have a good time?” Mrs. Wallace asked, when she was home at last.

“Marvelous.”

“Sleep well, Dinah.”

“You too.”

“Don’t worry about me. The pills are already taking effect.”

Lying in bed, Dinah felt the motion of the sailboat, remembered the salt spray hitting her face, the thrilling speed of their surge forward in the blue waters of the Sound. She was inundated with happiness. She felt secure at last, in a snug harbor.

VII

VICTORIA BLANDING was having French toast sprinkled with confectioner’s sugar and strawberry jam in her breakfast room. She made a face over the tea which was, as usual, weak as maid’s water, and was cutting another forkful of the toast when Hannah, her servant, came in and announced that Dick was on the line. She lumbered up out of her chair right away, for Dick was one of her favorite persons in the world.

“Hello,” she barked. “Is this you, Dick?”

“Vicky? Yes, me. How are you?”

“As well as can be expected,” she said briskly. “When am I going to see you, young man?”

“On Thursday,” he said. “That is, if you haven’t other plans.”

“I shall cancel them,” she said, to establish two things: one, a fictional appointment book crammed with social activities and two, to let him know how truly fond she was of him. “Thursday when?”

“In the evening. For dinner.”

“Splendid.”

“I’m so glad you’re free,” he said. “I was afraid you’d put me off.”

“Never that, Dickie,” she said, and repeated that it would be splendid to have dinner with him on Thursday. “I’ll be with a girl,” Dick said. “Someone I want you to meet.”

“Camilla? I’ve met her, thank you.”

“No, not Camilla,” he said, and he sounded, she thought, rather harried. “Someone else.”

“Someone else who?” she demanded.

“A girl I’ve recently met.” There was a rather crackling silence. “To tell the truth, Vicky, someone I’m rather smitten with.”

“What?” She clucked impatiently. “Try to make sense, Dick.”

“Yes, I know. It was all rather sudden.”

“This kind of thing passes all understanding,” she said sharply. “I thought you were engaged to Camilla.”

“As a matter of fact I am. That’s what makes it so difficult.” There was another silence. “She wants to meet my family,” he said.

“Who is she?”

“Someone … someone different. Well, not the usual kind of girl.”

“What do you mean, deformed or something?”

“Don’t you be difficult too,” he begged. “I’m in a bit of a spot. You see, I can’t have her meet Dad. He wouldn’t approve of it at all. He’d think I was … well, he’d spill the beans, there’s no doubt of that. But you’ll understand, I’m sure. You’re — ”

“Why isn’t she to meet your father? What has
that
to do with it?”

“He knows I’m supposed to be married.”

“So do I,” she said levelly. “Is this some kind of an unsavory thing, Richard?”

“Good God, what kind of a thing is that to say?”

“Heavens,” Miss Blanding said, sitting down quickly on the nearest chair. “Have you gotten some unfortunate girl into trouble, Richard Claiborne?”

“No,
no!
” he cried. “Help us and save us, Vicky. Will you listen,
please
, like a dear? Which you are, or I wouldn’t be turning to you. I met a girl and I go for her, it’s as simple as that. And I want you to meet her, without preconceived notions. Forget about Camilla. Just be nice to this girl and let’s have a good time on Thursday. Is that so much to ask?”

She thought it over. Victoria Blanding knew what this “different” girl must be like, but nevertheless hope surged. It would suit her very well if Camilla was in danger. Her voice warmed. “No, it’s not too much to ask,” she said cordially. “What time on Thursday?”

“May I call for you at about seven?”

“Quite. Seven will do very well.”

“That’s the ticket,” he said. “I knew I could depend on you.”

“I shall be looking forward to it,” she said. “Tell your young lady that. And don’t be late, Dick. I like my dinner at eight.”

“Don’t worry. I’m so relieved you’re available.”

Available? What else was she? Victoria Blanding hung up the phone. One took whatever crumbs came one’s way. She was suddenly very pleased about life.
I must have my hair done the day before
, she told herself busily. “That was my favorite nephew,” she told Hannah, who had heard it all many times before. “I shall be dining out on Thursday,” she added, and resumed her attack on the French toast. Perhaps he wouldn’t be marrying that vitiated wench after all. It was a heartening thought. Almost anyone at all would be better than that vapid creature.

“Where are you going tonight?” Joanie asked, watching Dinah screw on her pearl earrings. Wendy was stumping about in Dinah’s shoes, the ones with the higher heels. The two children were helping Dinah dress, or at least that was their fond thought. In truth, they were hindering … but Dinah, who loved them, tried to cope.

“To visit my young man’s family,” she said, spraying scent behind her ears.

“Dick?”

“Um hum.”

“He’s keen,” Joanie said.

“Will you marry him?” Wendy asked.

“That’s up to Providence.”

“What’s Providence?”

“Fate. Destiny. In other words, I don’t know.” She slid into her dress. “Girls, why don’t you run along? I’m in a hurry, sort of.”

Mr. Wallace knocked at the door. Wendy opened it. “We’re helping Dinah dress,” she announced. “Dinah’s going to meet his family. Isn’t it exciting?”

“Very. So much so that I’m issuing an order. You kids get out of here this instant and let Dinah get ready.”

“But we’re
helping
her.”

“I can imagine how much. Shoo. This is the voice of authority speaking. Out.”

The girls reluctantly filed out. “I hope you have a ball,” Mr. Wallace said as he closed the door to Dinah’s bed-sitting room.

She flashed a smile. “So do I. Thank you.”

I’m to meet his family
, she thought, palpitating. His
family.
She slipped into her pumps. The front doorbell rang; and she dropped her white gloves. She was all thumbs. She stood at the window, breathing in and breathing out.
I’m as ready as I ever will be
, she told herself, and went on out to say hello to Dick.

“You look fabulous,” he said surveying her. “You should always wear yellow.”

“I seem to recollect that you told me I should always wear green,” she said.

“I did? At the moment I’m sold on yellow.”

“I’m right on time,” she said. “Shall we go?”

“After you, my dear Alphonse.”

Dick parked the car in front of a building on Park Avenue only half a dozen blocks down from the Wallaces. “This building?” Dinah asked. “I know someone in this house too. Someone who was once a patient of mine.”

“I won’t be a minute,” Dick said, and left her to disappear into the plant-filled lobby.

She sat there, taking out her mirror and checking and then, a second or so later, doing the same thing.
I
look all right
, she thought. A little flushed, but quite all right. She was nervous but happy. Or maybe she was happy but nervous. It all amounted to the same thing. It was rather momentous, that was about the size of it.

I hope she won’t take a dislike to me
, she thought.

Then Dick came through the lobby doors again. He had his hand on a woman’s arm. Dinah straightened, a strained smile on her face. Then she took a second look.

No no, it couldn’t be! Such a coincidence would be just too striking!

But it was. On Dick’s arm was a tall, erect lady, with a feather hat and a sable tippet. Dinah stared through the open car window, unbelieving. It was Miss Blanding.

“Bless me,” Miss Blanding said, as Dick opened the door for her. “As I live and breathe, it’s Dinah Mason!”

“Miss … Miss
Blanding …

“So it’s you I’m to have dinner with,” the older woman said. “Why, this is positively eerie. Who would have dreamed of such a coincidence?”

“You mean …?” Dick asked, glancing from one to the other.

“I mean indeed,” his aunt said. “Dinah and I are old friends. What I should have done without her at the time of my broken hip, I daren’t venture to think. Well, young man. Are you going to help me in, or am I expected to stand out here ad infinitum?”

“Yes, of course,” he said, and saw her settled on the front seat.

“Isn’t this cozy and delightful,” Miss Blanding said, as they pulled away from the curb. “Dick, watch that erratic automobile up front. The driver seems to be an extremely poor one. Never mind, there’s the light, anyway.”

“You actually mean you two know each other?” Dick asked, dazed, as they were held up by the traffic light.

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