The Glass Slipper (21 page)

Brule said: “I want you to know the whole thing, Rue. You see, all along I knew that Andy had a motive for wanting to be rid of Crystal. That was it; he had to get rid of her. Crystal — Crystal had always loved attention; I didn’t know that, in Andy’s case, she was serious until it was too late. He — was equally culpable, I suppose. Flattered, pleased — frightened only when he began to perceive the iron strength Crystal had when she wanted anything — her utterly ruthless tenacity… And I had my share of guilt in it; I let it go on even when I saw how things were, but I thought she’d get over it. She had got over other — affairs. I don’t know what Andy has told you; or what Alicia has told you. But my great fault was in letting things go on until they reached the point they reached. That is,” said Brule slowly, “the point where Crystal was determined to divorce me and marry Andy, and he, knowing that his career depended upon me, knowing which side his bread was buttered on, was equally determined not to. Crystal, you see, had used enough of her capital so that Andy wouldn’t have been riding on velvet, so to speak. Crystal had dipped into it with both hands; she gave money to Alicia, she gave it to Andy —”

“Andy!”

“Oh yes. Crystal — had a kind of empress complex about money. It kept me going sometimes to pay the bills… Besides, it gave her an extra claim upon Andy. An extra obligation. But except for this house and the bequest she left Alicia there wasn’t really much property remaining; her will gave all she had to me — years ago when it was made, it was considerable. When she died there was very little. In short, if Andy had consented to her divorcing me he would have found himself married to a woman he didn’t want, a woman twenty years older than he, a woman with extravagant tastes, with little money herself, and Andy’s whole career blasted. So he thought. I don’t know what I would have done, really; kept Andy on in my office, I suppose. I was so tired of — all of it. I didn’t care much what happened. But he didn’t know that. And he was always a little afraid of me. I suppose during her illness he’d realized how her death would simplify things for him. But she didn’t die. Therefore —”

“Alicia,” said Rue without knowing she was going to say it. He caught her up quickly.

“I couldn’t defend myself before Steven,” he said. “And you wouldn’t listen to what I could say. But I couldn’t rob Steven of his last illusions of Alicia. I couldn’t tell him —”

“Tell him what, Brule?”

Brule turned swiftly to her. He was kneeling at her feet; he took her hand and looked earnestly, almost pleadingly as Madge had done, into her eyes.

“Rue, will you try to understand? Alicia — was there, you see. Always there when I was lonely; always entertaining, always agreeable, a friend of the family’s. Gradually, I don’t quite know how, I began — to accept Alicia. I didn’t love her; I don’t think she ever loved me really, for Alicia doesn’t love, she merely seeks a pleasant and comfortable life for Alicia. We were together a lot. Once Crystal got suspicious and began to ask questions, and Alicia roped in Steven as easily as — as she’d pull in a trusting dog on a leash. Alicia didn’t want to lose Crystal’s very remunerative friendship. That settled Crystal; Crystal didn’t want me herself, but she was vain and she was considerably older than I and conscious of it — she didn’t want Alicia, a younger woman, to take me away. But with Alicia and Steven engaged, everything was all right. I — I don’t know what I felt during that time; mainly, it seems to me, I was tired — and in a trap of my own making. Well, at any rate, Alicia kept strengthening that intangible thing that existed between us; when Crystal died I felt in duty bound to ask Alicia to marry me. Besides, it would have pleased Madge. And Alicia refused. I believe Alicia more than half believed I had murdered Crystal myself — for love of Alicia. And I thought —” He bent his head suddenly and placed it upon Rue’s hands.

“Rue, here’s where the forgiving comes in. You see, I thought that if I married somebody else it would end the — the entangling affair with Alicia. It was never — you’ll have to believe me — what you’d really call an affair.”

“Steven…” whispered Rue.

His face turned on her hands.

“Steven,” he said. “I couldn’t go to him and say: ‘Look here, you must break your engagement with Alicia because she has led me to believe she’s in love with me.’ And to tell the truth, Rue, I didn’t care very much. About anything. I was tired and I’d worked like a dog for years, and I — everywhere was disappointment and weariness and sham, and I — I couldn’t see anything that I’d gained. All those years of hard work, and I had reached a stalemate. I had absolutely nothing that was of value to me. Except Madge. And she was, then, her mother’s child. I’d been too ambitious. I…” He stopped.

And simply turned his head on her hands and kissed them.

“I want you, Rue.”

There were tears on Rue’s cheeks.

Brule looked up; his eyes sought into her own deeply, searchingly, half afraid. She’d never known Brule to be uncertain.

Then he saw the tears.

After a moment he touched her wet cheeks gently with his fingers.

And took her slowly in his arms and kissed her mouth.

“I love you…” he said.

Rue’s heart sang madly: I’ve always loved you. I’ve always — always — always loved…

She caught back the words. Presently she moved her feet cautiously. He felt the motion, turned, caught both slender ankles and pushed them back in the hot water again. He got to his feet and rang for Gross and ordered a number of things, while Rue sat in a kind of bewitched silence, and, when they came, mysteriously mixed something hot and smelling of lemons in a tall glass.

“Drink it.”

She did. Because his arm held her; because he held the glass and watched lingeringly while she drank.

She was drowsy; the room was warm; Brule held her in his arms and talked:

“… We’ll go on a trip. Have you ever been to France, Rue? We’ll sit in golden sunshine beside a sea as blue as your eyes. When we’ve tired of that we’ll go on… and on…”

“Home…” said Rue.

“Home. I’ll get a house in the country on a river. There’ll be flowers and sunshine and blue sky — and you, Rue…”

The phrase repeated itself goldenly, following her into dreams.