Free The Strange Story of Linda Lee by Dennis Wheatley Page B

cancer into his happiness. A time will come when he’ll be able to hide his feelings no longer, and he’ll charge us with it. No amount of lying on our parts would convince him that he was wrong. Then, being the generous pal he is, he will probably offer to let you go, so that you could marry me. But I couldn’t. How could I possibly rob him of the thing he cherishes more than his life?’
    ‘No,’ Linda choked out. ‘And I wouldn’t marry you even if you wanted me to. Not like that. I simply couldn’t bring myself to leave Rowley after all he’s done for me.’
    ‘Then you see why I’ll have to fade out. And soon too.’
    Linda stood up. ‘I know you are old-fashioned. You have proved that tonight by your loyalty to Rowley. But I wouldn’t have you any other way. I love you for it, and always shall.’
    As she spoke, she moved toward the door. He made no attempt to stop her. Both of them knew that to risk a last kiss would be too dangerous. Two minutes later she was back in her room. Now completely sober, chastened and drained of energy, she lay for a while reproaching herself bitterly for having made such a mess of things. Then she cried herself to sleep.
    Rowley had already made arrangements for them to go again to Venice in September, and Linda was counting the days until their departure. London was hot and oppressive. She knew that her affair withEric was now a closed chapter of her life, so was doing her best to put him out of her mind. But the scene in his bedroom continued to haunt her, and she felt that only by getting away from the house to Venice would she be able gradually to rid herself of thoughts of him.
    In the latter half of August he rang up Rowley to say that he had been appointed to a new job and that he would be leaving the country very shortly because he was wanted at his new post urgently; so he could only manage a lunch to say good-bye.
    The meal went off quite smoothly, but when asked to what country he was going, he shook his head and replied, ‘Sorry, chums, but for the present, for security reasons, I’m not allowed to say.’
    Afterwards, fighting down tears, Linda stood on the doorstep beside Rowley and, smiling bravely, waved her love away.
    What she had told Eric about Rowley’s pressing her to let him resume sleeping with her was only partly true. During the summer he had on three occasions asked her to; but, in spite of her own cravings, she had firmly refused, and he had not pursued the matter.
    Eric’s departure for an indefinite period had left Rowley very low; so, two nights later, to cheer up both him and herself, she suggested that they went out to dinner.
    They dined well at the Connaught, sank two champagne cocktails apiece, a bottle of hock between them and topped off with liqueurs; so, when they got home at about half past eleven they were both much more cheerful and slightly mellow. Rowley suggested fetching a bottle of champagne from the fridge. Seeing the red light, Linda would not let him; but he insistedon mixing them both brandies and soda as nightcaps.
    Her foreboding proved right. Having taken a good swig at his drink, Rowley said that the evening would not be complete unless it finished up in her room. She promptly replied that they had been into the matter before, and she did not mean to change her mind. This time he would not take ‘no’ for an answer, and declared that it could not possibly do him any harm. She remained firm in her refusal and for a quarter of an hour or so they continued to wrangle. Eventually she told him that it was useless to keep on repeating himself, and went up to bed, leaving him there.
    His raising the subject and talking about it for so long had again aroused her own frustration. Striving to rid her thoughts of sex, she undressed, got into bed and put out the light; but she could not get to sleep.
    For over an hour she tossed and turned. Then she heard the door open. A moment later Rowley was leaning over her, breathing