Free Substitute Bride by Margaret Pargeter Page B

how much joy did he expect to get out of either?
    After dinner when Rick went out she decided to have an early night. He didn't say where he was going. He merely said briefly that he wouldn't be late and not to wait up for him. As he said that she had sensed the ironic glint in his eye, but she refused to look at him. Conversation during dinner had been difficult enough— she felt she just couldn't face any more of his taunting.
    The next morning, after eating breakfast in their suite, they went out. The hotel was busy, but because it was so huge it gave the impression of being relatively quiet. Emma was glad to get away from it as she expected to bump into Blanche and Rex with every step she took, around every corner.
    'You need more clothes,' said Rick, and while Emma thought wistfuly of wandering along the Left Bank or around the famous flea or flower markets, to say nothing of having a great desire to visit the Louvre or Versailes again, he escorted her by taxi to one of the most expensive coiffeurs in the Champs-Elysées.
    'Why do I have to come here?' she protested. 'I had my hair done in London.'
    'It needs more attention, and so does your face,' was his far from flattering comment as, dismissing her sulky pleas adamantly, he turned to speak to the effusive proprietor.
    Emma was ignored while Rick, as usual, appeared to have no difficulty in commanding unlimited attention.
    He would call for her at one, he said, leaving Emma gasping with dismay, as it was only ten o'clock.

    By one she scarcely knew herself. Her hair and skin seemed to have undergone a miraculous transformation, and she had been assured many times that with a little care she would soon become quite irresistible.
    To whom? she wondered, thinking unhappily of the stranger she had married. That Rick was rapidly beginning to prove irresistible to her was no proof that he would one day share her feelings. She would be much wiser to forget the nice things the staff of the salon had poured in her ears that morning and remember she was still plain Emma Davis.
    Yet in spite of her doubts she couldn't help feeling a small thril of satisfaction as she noticed Rick's brows rise a little when he first saw her. Her pleasure died, however, when his mouth tightened grimly, as if he couldn't decide whether her improved appearance was likely to prove an asset or a drawback. He should have thought of that before he'd taken her to Monsieur Rene's in the first place, shouldn't he?
    Emma glanced at Rick quickly out of the corner of her eye, disappointed at his forbidding expression. 'Monsieur Rene said my bones are good.' Blatantly she found herself fishing for compliments when he didn't speak.
    'Yes,' he nodded, without bothering to look at her again as he hailed another taxi.
    He took her to a famous restaurant for lunch, where she ate oysters and sipped a dry white Burgundy without any feeling of awkwardness. She sensed the ease with which she was assuming her new role as his wife was surprising Rick too, and she wished vaguely that she had been able to explain how once she had been accustomed to living in a somewhat similar manner. But of course she could not. She had been away at school most of the time, but during the holidays her father had liked to take her around with him. He had never been as wealthy as Rick, though, and the excursions they had shared had more often been in the way of business rather than anything else.
    After they had finished eating he escorted her to an equaly famous fashion house on the Rue de la Paix. Again he left her after a brief consultation with the smiling vendeuse during which Emma heard him explaining that his wife required things they could take away almost immediately, that they had no time to spare for elaborate fittings. She would need, he instructed, among other things, a wardrobe suitable for the Caribbean. At this, Emma's heart sank. He must realy intend taking her to his home and introducing her to his family. There was to be