Читать книгу Ambition's Slave - Fred M. White - Страница 10

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MAUDE sat on after her lover had gone, utterly unconscious of what was going on around her. She heard nothing of the clatter of voices, the ripple of laughter. She had come out to-night the happiest woman in London; within the compass of an hour she had become of all women the most miserable. She had lost the man she most cared for, she had given her promise to a man she despised. Her whole soul was filled with a loathing for Desborough.

And he had made his meaning quite plain. Maude understood that Desborough's parable applied to them both. He was the strong man who was prepared to sacrifice everything to his ambition, honour, self-respect and all. He was the man loaded down with debt and struggling to free himself by means of a rich marriage. That his ambition was tempered by the fact that he really adored her did not move Maude a bit. To save himself he was going to take advantage of a disgraceful family secret and force her to marry him.

Desborough had been brutal enough, he had burnt his boats and crossed the rubicon. And Maude would have to become his wife. She sat there overwhelmed by the mere suggestion of it. And Kit had been so kind and tender through it all. If he had only reproached her, only spoken as he had every right to do! Maude looked up to see Desborough standing before her.

"I want you to come back into the drawing-room with me," he said. "I am going soon."

He spoke with an air of proprietorship that Maude would have resisted. But what did it all matter? She would have to smile in the face of Society—to wear a mask in future. She would have to begin some time and the sooner the agony was over the better.

"I understand you," she said coldly. "You want to show your property to the world—you want your creditors to know that they will be paid."

Desborough winced slightly. After all he was not quite so hard as he had imagined.

"I have always admired you," he said. "In any case I should have asked you to be my wife. I could not marry a poor woman, but even if you had been a poor woman, in my heart I should have preferred you to any one else. And I shall make you care for me."

Her eyes flashed and her face grew hard.

"Never!" she cried. "A girl might be your slave, nay, with a man like you she would have to be. But the real spontaneous love that warms so many a heart could not be yours. And I am not the one to change. I love Kit Clive. I shall go on loving him always. You need not be afraid—the breath of scandal shall never touch me. I shall always remain as pure in mind and thought as I am now. And I shall ever despise you. I shall ever know you for the man that you are. Others may envy you and point to your success, but your wife will know you for a poor, contemptible creature who forced a poor girl to pay for your follies and ambition at the price of her happiness and the content of her family. Now will you give me your arm?"

Desborough stood quietly through it all. What he felt under the stinging lash of the girl's tongue she could only guess, he might have been carved out of granite but for the little red spot that burnt on either cheek. He held out his arm which Maude touched with her finger tips.

Yet he glanced at her anxiously as they came into the full glare of the brilliantly lighted drawing-room. There was a smile on Maude's face and a little suggestion of weariness. People were looking at the striking couple and whispering together.

"Will you congratulate me?" Desborough said as he approached his hostess. "I am very fortunate. Miss Beaumont has done me the honour to consenting to be my wife."

The news flashed round the room. Maude overheard the felicitations of her friends with the same hard, brilliant smile. She longed to cry out to tell them that it was all a hateful sham. She had a passionate desire to be alone again, to throw herself face down upon her bed and cry her heart out. But the thing had to be played out to the bitter end.

"Get me away," she whispered fiercely. "Find my chaperon, who will be glad to go. Call the carriages. If you don't I shall be forced to say something, to tell the truth, and once that is known I shall be free of you for ever. Do you hear me? Go!"

Maude spoke in a fierce whisper, but the hard, brilliant smile never left her face. It was not until the carriage had driven away that Desborough felt easy in his mind. He walked thoughtfully along in the direction of his chambers.

"I never knew that she had so much in her," he told himself. "She will have to be ruled, to learn to fear my power and respect it. And what a tongue she has. Well, she is the only one who knows that I am a scoundrel, and to draw back now would be to stamp me as a fool as well as a knave. Without Maude's aid I should have been a ruined man. Now—"

He glared at the thought of the future. There were letters in his room awaiting him; one from his solicitor telling him of no fewer than three writs that had been issued against him to-day. Desborough smiled bitterly as he read the letter.

"Minter is putting on the screw," he muttered. "I have to thank him for this. If I could only get from under that scoundrel's thumb I should be free—I could defy him. If I could raise that money! Perhaps I could now that my engagement is announced. Come in."

The door opened, and Ericsson entered. He was still pale and ghastly; despite the freshness of the night, there were beads of perspiration on his face.

"Sit down," Desborough said. "You are the witness who has an appointment with me. You were not in a fit state to say much when I last had the pleasure of seeing you. What's the matter?"

Those keen, cold eyes were looking at Ericsson searchingly. The pale face flushed.

"I'm sober enough now," he retorted. "And I had a bit of a fright coming along. It was that man Price. Eli Price who was also a witness in the case. I didn't know it was the same Price that—"

"Never mind that," Desborough said curtly. "I am not interested in your private affairs. Now listen to me, and answer all that I ask you truthfully."

For the next half hour Ericsson was replying to Desborough's searching questions. In that time he literally turned the man inside out. Then the lawyer rose and pointed to the door.

"You can go," he said. "And keep sober next time. And don't try to deceive a lawyer again who has you in the witness box. That kind of thing leads to trouble. Good-night."

Ericsson slipped away down the stairs, and almost instantly Desborough was immersed in a thick brief. He had forgotten everything else when the door was burst open and Ericsson dashed in. His face was white with terror, his eyes gleamed strangely. With a gesture of annoyance Desborough caught him by the shoulders and bundled him towards the door.

"Confound you!" he said, "what do you mean by this? If you don't go away—"

"But I dare not," Ericsson screamed. "He is after me, he is following me here. If he comes he will kill me. Hide me somewhere, get me out of the way. Isn't there any back way out? Oh, surely you are not going to let me—"

Desborough pointed to a door on the opposite side of the room.

"Try that way," he said. "It leads into a corridor, and there is a staircase that opens into a side street. Get along, and don't let me see your face again."

With a gasp Ericsson darted away, and was lost to sight in a moment. Then came the sound of heavy footsteps up the main staircase, then the door was flung open without ceremony and a second man came furiously into the room.