I stood very still for a second, then let the built-up pressure in my lungs escape in a slow sigh.
"He'll never come through that door again," I said.
The color began to drain from her face slowly.
"What- what do you mean?" she stammered.
My eyes went right into hers.
For the first time, I could see into them.
She was afraid. Just like everyone else that had to look into an unknown future.
"Mrs. Cord," I said slowly, "your husband is dead."
Her pupils dilated wildly for a moment and she sank slowly back onto the seat.
By reflex, she picked up the towel and placed it around her again.
"I can't believe it," she said dully.
"What is it that you can't believe, Rina?" I asked cruelly. "That he's dead or that you were wrong when you married him instead of me?"
I don't think she even heard me.
She looked up at me, her eyes dry, but there was a gentle sorrow in them – a compassion I never knew she was capable of.
"Was there any pain?" she asked.
"No," I answered. "It was quick.
A stroke.
One minute he was as big as life and roaring like a lion, and the next- " I snapped my fingers. "It was like that."
Her eyes were still on mine.
"I'm glad for his sake," she said softly. "I wouldn't have wanted him to suffer."
She got to her feet slowly.
The veil came down over her eyes again.
"I think you'd better go now," she said.
This was the familiar Rina, the one I wanted to take apart.
The distant one, the unattainable one, the calculating one.
"No," I said. "I haven't finished yet." She started past me.
"What is there to finish?"
I seized her arm and pulled her back toward me.
"We're not finished," I said into her upturned face.
"You and me.
I brought you home one night because I wanted you.
But you chose my father because he represented a quicker return for you.
I think I've waited long enough!"
She stared back at me. She wasn't afraid now.
This was the ground she was used to fighting on.
"You wouldn't dare!"
For an answer, I pulled the towel from her.
She turned to run from the room but I caught her arm and pulled her back to me.
With my other hand, I caught her hair and pulled her head back so that her face turned up to mine.
"No?"
"I'll scream," she gasped hoarsely. "The servants will come running!"
I grinned. "No, they won't. They'll only think it a cry of grief.
Robair's got them in the kitchen and not one will come up unless I send for her."
"Wait!" she begged. "Please wait.
For your father's sake?"
"Why should I?" I asked.
"He didn't wait for me."
I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
Her fists and hands scratched at my face and beat against my chest.
I threw her on the bed, the white satin cover still on it.