Nine Coaches Waiting (35 page)

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Authors: Mary Stewart

BOOK: Nine Coaches Waiting
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"Linda.” Under the quiet voice was a note I knew.

"Yes?"

"Get in."

I got in. The mist swirled and broke as the door slammed.

Swirled again as he got in and slid into the seat beside me. It was dark in the car. He seemed enormous, and very near.

I was trembling. He didn't move to touch me. I cleared my throat and said the first thing that came into my head. "Where
did
you get this car? Roulette?"

"Écarté. Linda, do you intend to stay at the Villa Mireille for a while with Philippe?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought things out yet. I'm awfully fond of him, but-"

Raoul said: "He'll be lonely, even with Hippolyte. Shall we have him with us at Bellevigne?"

I said breathlessly: "Raoul. Raoul. I didn't think-" I stopped. I put shaking hands up to my face.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

I said, very humbly, into my hands: "You mean you'll still… have me?"

I heard him take a quick breath. He didn't answer. He turned suddenly towards me and pulled me to him, not gently. What we said then is only for ourselves to remember. We talked for a long time.

Later, when we could admit between us the commonplace of laughter, he said, with the smile back in his voice: "And you've still not made me own it, my lovely. Don't you think it's time I did?"

"What are you talking about? Own what?"

"That I love you, I love you, I love you."

"Oh,
that
."

"Yes, damn it
, that.”

"I'll take a chance on it," I said. And those were the last words I spoke for a very long time.

And presently the car edged forward through the mist and turned north off the Valmy bridge.

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