Chapter 10
The drive back to the Leslie place was made in almost complete silence. Clyde at the wheel, Sue withdrawn from him as far as the confines of the seat would permit; Don equally aloof and withdrawn from Gayle in the back, but Gayle sat contentedly, a little smile of satisfaction touching her mouth.
When the car stopped, Don got out, made no effort to help Gayle, who would have evaded him if he had, and turned to Clyde, who was helping Sue out of the car.
"Say good night to Sue, Clyde, and come down to my place for a nightcap," suggested Don, trying hard to make his voice sound pleasant and matter-of-fact.
Sue said coolly, "I don't feel very much like saying good night to Clyde. I'm afraid I don't like him very well right now."
She marched into the house, while Clyde was still staring at her, goggle-eyed, and Don's jaw hardened a little.
Gayle said sweetly, "Don't be disturbed, Clyde dear-she's not really angry-she'll be all over it by morning. She's just tired and nervous from all the strain and stress of parties and-bride's jitters."
Clyde looked at her swiftly, hopefully, gratefully.
Don said, with an edge to his voice, "Good night, Gayle...."
Gayle laughed softly, and lifted her billowing skirts to mount the steps, and Don turned to Clyde.
"Come on, fellow," he said heartily, dropping an arm about the younger man's shoulders in a brotherly manner. "What we both need is a nightcap to wash the taste of this night out of our mouths."
Clyde demurred but Don insisted, and Gayle, hidden in the shadows of the door, watched them go down the path towards the guest cottage. For just a moment she hesitated, and then like a silver gray shadow in the darkness of the trees and the hedge, she slipped along behind them. She hovered in the darkness, beyond reach of the light that sprang up in the cottage as Clyde followed Don into the room.
It was risky, she knew, to follow them. But she simply had to know what was going to happen. Don, of course, meant to tell Clyde that she was a tramp and a slut; and unless she had prepared Clyde to doubt everything Don said ... She drew a long breath. Men were not to be trusted for so much as the smallest fraction of a moment, of course. Clyde had seemed impressed by what she had told him; she believed that he would defend her-believed! But if he didn't ...!
She wrapped her skirts about her, lifting them well above her slippered feet, hating the dew-wet grass that she knew was ruining her fragile silver-strapped sandals, and crept across the lawn to the window, open of course to the fragrant warm summer night.
The curtains of daffodil-yellow nylon were stirring a little in the breeze, and she knew that where she stood in the shadows beside the window, she was hidden from the men in the lighted room. She held her breath and strained her ears.
Don was mixing drinks, talking casually, carelessly. Then Clyde, accepting a drink, said flatly, "Well, let's get it over with, Don. What's on your mind?"
Gayle tensed and was very still, her breath suspended.
"Something I think-in fact, I know!-I should have told you when I first got here," Don said grimly.
The curtain stirred a little and Gayle was able to peep through its folds that no longer quite met and see Clyde, lounging in a big chair, his drink in his hand, his eyes intent on Don.
"Something important, I suppose," he said at last.
"I think so!"
"Okay-then spit it out!"
"It's-not a very pleasant thing to have to say...."
"Because it is for my own good and it concerns Gayle, of course."
Gayle, hidden, listening, drew in her breath in a small, soundless gasp, and her hands clenched so tightly that the ruby-tipped nails bit deeply into her pink palms.
The stirring curtain showed her Don, tense, his brows drawn together in a frown, his jaw hard and sullen.
"Because," stated Clyde flatly, "if it is about Gayle, I don't think I care to hear it."
He put down the drink he had barely touched and stood up and the two men were tense, wary-eyed, like sworn enemies.
"You're damned well going to hear it!" Don exploded.
Clyde's smile was thin-lipped and angry and did nothing to alter the bleakness in his eyes.
"I don't think so, old man," he said very quietly. "Gayle is a fine, decent, honest girl earning her own living...."
"Gayle is a complete witch, a slut and a tramp," Don said savagely.
Clyde took a step towards him and swung.
Don stepped back, evading the blow, wide-eyed, incredulous.
"What the hell...." he exploded furiously.
Gayle hugged herself joyously and put both hands over her mouth to keep back her laughter.
Clyde had himself under control now but he was white and his eyes were blazing with barely controlled fury.
"Gayle warned me you'd try this...." he said through his teeth. Don swore.
"But I wouldn't believe that any man could sink so low as to take this kind of a crack at a woman just because she wouldn't give in to him," Clyde finished savagely.
Don pulled himself erect and jammed his clenched fists hard into his pockets as through to keep himself from taking a sock at Clyde.
"Oh, so that's it-she warned you...." he began.
"Because you have been threatening her, trying to force her into giving in to you...."
"You poor, blind, damned fool!" snarled Don furiously. "I've had her-and she's pretty damned good, I might add, but that's her business...."
The thin thread of Clyde's control broke and this time when he lunged, Don was not fast enough to block the blow. Don caught it on the chin and stumbled backward, and caught to a chair-back and came back fighting. For a moment the two men fought savagely, swinging with powerhouse blows, until suddenly Don was able to master the younger, slighter man, and sling him onto the divan, and kneel on him, swearing in a lurid stream that made Gayle's eyes widen a little in appreciation of his skill.
"Shut up," he snarled after a moment when Clyde began to struggle. "And be still before I beat your brains out. You damned fool! Are you too stupid to recognize that kind of woman when you see her?"
"I was too stupid to believe that a guy like you could stoop so low to blacken the name of a woman who had the guts to deny your passion," said Clyde savagely, his breath coming in little angry gusts. "I don't believe you've had her, and I won't believe it until she tells me so herself. And even then I'd believe you forced her to it."
Don stared down at him as though he could not believe his ears. And then the fight went out of him and he rose, and Clyde struggled to a sitting position, still panting a little, and reached for his drink. He swallowed it in deep, reviving gulps and for a long moment the two men sat studying each other, all trace of friendship gone from their angry eyes.
It was Don who spoke at last.
"Well, so that's that," he said grimly. "I suppose there's no more I can do since you seem determined to make an ass of yourself."
"I think it would be swell if you'd just step aside and stop trying to nursemaid me," said Clyde shortly. "I've been a big boy now for quite a long time; I can cross the street without anybody holding my hand; I can even zip myself up when I go to the bathroom. So you can relax...."
"Thanks, it will be a pleasure," snapped Don savagely. "You're on your own, from here on in."
"That's mighty nice of you!"
"But there's just one thing more."
Clyde eyed him with anger and bitterness.
"Yes, Daddy dear?" he sneered sweetly.
"Take care of Sue, or so help me, I'll beat hell out of you...."
"I'd enjoy seeing you try-here and now, if you like...."
"And give you a couple of black eyes to wear to the wedding?"
"If you could!"
"Don't worry-I could, and what a pleasure it would be! But Sue would wonder...."
"You seem pretty damned concerned about Sue!"
Gayle held her breath, her eyes wide as she managed to peer between the curtains. The two men were taking each other's measure, and she hoped they would be at each other's throats again. She wished viciously that they would slash each other to bits ... but Don was speaking grimly and she leaned closer to listen.
"I'm very much concerned about Sue," he stated flatly. "Because she is tops and only the best is good enough for her, and I'm not sure you're that!"
"I suppose you are?" It was an ugly sneer and Clyde's eyes were blazing.
"I'm not so sure that I'm not a hell of a sight better able to take care of her than you are, Buddy-because I can properly appreciate her, having known other women-at least, well enough to recognize a tramp when I see one."
The two men glared at each other for a moment and then Clyde got up, and banged his glass on the table.
"It's only a few days until the wedding, and I suppose I can tolerate having you around for that long," he said through his teeth. "But-if you were to get a telegram calling you back to New York on very important business not later than tomorrow morning, I could just barely endure the joy I'd feel."
Don grinned infuriatingly, tight-lipped.
"Not a chance, Buddy-not a chance! I wouldn't miss the wedding for a million dollars, tax free!" he said flatly. "I want to see to it that Sue is-protected from something she doesn't deserve-"
"Meaning me?"
"Meaning Gayle, you knucklehead! If I can take Gayle with me, I leave in the morning...."
"Oh, no you don't...."
"Then she and I both will stay."
Clyde turned toward the door and paused to say over his shoulder, "Just bear in mind that I'm the one who's marrying Sue, will you?"
Don's smile was tight-lipped and grim.
"I'll remember it just as long as you do," he stated flatly. "And just as long as you behave yourself towards her."
For a moment the two men stared at each other levelly. There was a complete absence of the old, familiar friendship that had been as close to affection as men get for each other. They were from that moment on sworn enemies and if their paths crossed again, it would not be because either of them had willed it so.
"See you at the wedding then," said Clyde grimly and stalked out.
Gayle drew back into the dense shadow of the blossoming shrubbery as Clyde walked past her, unseeing, along the moonlit path to the house. She waited tensely until she had heard the sound of his car starting up and then dying away.
She put both hands over her mouth to control her little happy chuckle of delight at the way things were working out, and then she turned cautiously and looked back between the filmy curtains into the living room. But Don had moved out of her line of vision, and though she ventured farther into the pale light that spilled through the curtains she could not see him.
She shrugged a little and turned away, lifting her skirts a little, holding them close about her as she stepped from the shrubbery shadows into the clearing and started toward the path along which Clyde had vanished. But before she had taken more than two steps, there was a swift movement behind her, and Don's hand closed sharply over her arm and whirled her about.
She gasped and looked up at him. He had slipped from the kitchen entrance of the house, around the corner and pounced on her just before she could make good her flight.
For a moment she fought him furiously, savagely, but she was no match for his strength and Don practically dragged her back into the house and flung her ungently on the divan where a little while before he had knelt on Clyde's chest, holding him down.