The Sins of Nightsong. V. J. Banis

The Sins of Nightsong - V. J. Banis


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haven’t seen the lad in several years. He should be quite a young man now.”

      “Nineteen and very much a man, he wants everyone to think.”

      “It’s strange that he has adapted so well, especially with the prejudice many Americans have against Orientals.”

      “He had a terrible life with Prince Ke Loo. Do you know they used to bleed him when he was a child in order to drain him of any trace of my blood in his veins?”

      “Good God, no wonder he’s so opposed to his father.”

      “And as far as prejudice is concerned, you above everyone else should know that where money is concerned prejudices don’t exist.”

      He kissed her quickly. “I must go.” He got up and started to dress. “Perhaps I could join you and Leon tomorrow. I’d like to get to know the boy. Perhaps introduce him to my son, Efrem. The two are about the same age.”

      “Heaven forbid, Peter. What are you thinking? Your wife would throw a tantrum that would be heard across the state. You know how she despises anything connected with me—including my products, I understand.”

      He laughed. “She’d die before she’d wear any Empress Cosmetic product, even though all her friends think her foolish. I must hand it to you, Lydia—for a silly little girl of missionary parents you certainly made something of yourself.”

      “Perhaps I’ve made too much of myself,” she answered wistfully. “The price was high.”

      He leaned down and kissed her mouth as she pulled the sheet over her naked body. “Dinner tomorrow night?” Seeing her hesitation he added, “Lorna is going to visit friends in Sacramento for a few days. There’s no chance of her causing a scene.”

      Lydia thought for a moment. “Very well,” she said.

      “Good. I’ll call for you at seven-thirty.”

      * * * * * * *

      He was fifteen minutes early. “My place was like a morgue,” he explained. “I got restless. I hope you don’t mind.”

      “Of course not.”

      He looked around. “For some reason I thought I’d find you in the bosom of your family, as the expression goes. You know—little tots on your lap, your son sitting dutifully at your side.”

      She chuckled. “Leon is off somewhere with friends from school and the little ones are already asleep upstairs with their amah.” She made a face and corrected herself. “Their nurse. After all these years it is one of the few Oriental expressions I can’t stop using.”

      He winked suggestively. “Then we have the downstairs all to ourselves again tonight.”

      She saw his eyes move toward the bedroom. “Behave yourself, Peter MacNair. You are taking me to dinner.” She moved toward the liquor cart. “Would you care for a cocktail?”

      “Yes, thank you.”

      Minutes later they settled themselves side by side on the Victorian settee, she with a cassis and he with a scotch over ice.

      He said, “Did I tell you, you look ravishing as usual?”

      She smiled demurely. “Thank you, kind sir.”

      The doorbell rang.

      Lydia looked annoyed. “Who could that be? I’m not expecting anyone. Excuse me, Peter. The servants are off. I’ll see who it is.”

      When she opened the door Raymond removed his hat and smiled. “I was in the neighborhood and wondered if you were free for dinner.”

      “As it so happens, I am not free,” Lydia said, frowning.

      “Entertaining?” He nodded to Peter’s carriage tied to the hitching post.

      “You always were inquisitive, Raymond. One day that nose of yours will get you into trouble.”

      “MacNair’s carriage, isn’t it?”

      Lydia gave him a defiant look. “Yes, it is.”

      “Good,” he said forcing down his anger. He pushed past her. “I’ll join you for a drink.”

      “Raymond, please,” she called after him as he went directly toward the drawing room.

      Peter was refreshing his scotch when Raymond walked in. “Good evening, Raymond,” Peter said pleasantly.

      Raymond glanced at the scotch decanter in Peter’s hand. “You certainly are making yourself free enough in this house.”

      Peter merely widened his grin. “It’s Lydia’s liquor and I’m sure she doesn’t object to my helping myself to it.”

      “But I do.”

      “Raymond!” Lydia snapped, standing nervously in the doorway. “Peter is a guest of mine.”

      He turned on her. “Well, I strongly object to your asking him here. If I recall, you’ve always expressed an intense dislike for the man.” He saw Lydia glance anxiously at Peter and saw Peter frown.

      She said, “You are being purposefully rude, Raymond. I’d appreciate it if you would kindly leave.”

      Raymond did not move. “Now don’t tell me this is a business meeting between two competitors?”

      “Think what you like,” Peter said smugly as he sat down and put his feet out in front of him, crossing his ankles.

      Raymond glowered. “I don’t want you seeing Lydia.”

      “That again is for Lydia to say.” He looked around Raymond. “Lydia?”

      She came forward and put her hand on Raymond’s arm. “Please, Raymond, don’t make a scene.”

      He knocked her hand away. “You seem to forget how much you need me, Lydia. Now tell this gentleman....” He slurred the word. “...to get the devil out of this house.” He threw Peter a furious look. “I am surprised Lydia hasn’t told you that she and I are to be married.”

      “Raymond!” She looked helplessly at Peter and saw his shock. “That isn’t true.” To Raymond she said, “You are being overly presumptuous, Raymond. I will remind you that you are still my daughter’s husband and I would never agree to marrying you even if you were free.”

      “You sang a different tune just last evening at the party before this loser showed up.”

      Peter jumped to his feet, clenching his hands into fists.

      “Raymond!” Lydia cried. “I never accepted your proposal and you know it.”

      He whirled on her, ignoring Peter’s outrage. “You’ll accept me. I said I’d get myself free of April and you will marry me.”

      It was all so ridiculous, Lydia suddenly realized. Here stood two men who claimed they wanted to marry her and neither of them was in a position to do so. She suddenly began to wonder if they really meant what they said or if they were simply toying with her, knowing they need never live up to their proposals. She would be making a fool of herself by believing either one of them.

      “Raymond, kindly leave.” To Peter she said, “Would you fetch my wrap and evening bag from the sitting room, please. They are on the divan.”

      Peter hesitated, then did as she asked, leaving them alone for a moment.

      When he was out of ear shot she glowered at Raymond. “How dare you come here and make a scene! I highly object to your proprietary manner. I am not planning on marrying you or anyone else. Peter MacNair asked me to dinner. I accepted purely because I am interested in finding out all I can about his new line.” The lie came easily.

      She saw the doubt in his face. “Just keep in mind, Lydia, that you are nothing without me. If I act proprietarily toward you I heartily believe that I have that


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