Cinderella Wife by Katherine Arthur

Author:Katherine Arthur
Language: eng
Format: epub

Davin had been in such a good humour lately that Susanna was completely unprepared for the dark look of disgust, almost hatred, that replaced his eager smile when he saw the room. He stood with his hands on his hips, his lip curled in distaste, as he looked around the room.

'If this isn't true Hollywood,' he snarled, impaling Susanna with a cold and bitter stare. 'Are you out of your mind? Or… do I detect the fine hand of dear Olga at work? That's it, isn't it?' he asked rhetorically as Susanna swallowed and paled before his icy stare.

'She… did help me a little,' she replied, 'but…'

'Get rid of it,' he ordered, with a sweeping gesture. 'All the boy needs is a nice, simple, plain room.'

'But there isn't time!' Susanna cried.

'Then perform a miracle,' said Davin in clipped tones. 'Make time.' He turned to go.

'Now just a darn minute,' she snapped, fury and frustration making her eyes flash above her defiantly lifted chin. 'It may be a little… overdone, but I refuse to hurt Olga's feelings by doing it all over. I… I'll paint the walls a nice plain colour, but that's all I'll do.' She scowled into the forbidding, frozen green of Davin's eyes.

'Very well,' he said stiffly. 'And get rid of all the arty folderol.' He gestured towards the animal skins and the palm tree, then marched brusquely from the room.

Damn, Susanna thought, her heart sinking as she watched the broad, rigid back retreating. Just when she had thought things were on an even keel… but she might have known Davin would want something more simple. She should have held Olga back, but it had been such fun…

Dinner that night was strained, Davin silent and withdrawn, not looking at either Olga or Susanna except when spoken to, his answers short and barely polite.

'He didn't like the wallpaper,' she answered in response to Olga's whispered query, but she could tell by Olga's expression that the elderly woman guessed far more than that was amiss.

Davin did not come to his bed that night, apparently spending the night on the couch in his study. Susanna could not sleep, torn between a desire to try to jolt him out of his withdrawal and a simmering anger at his unreasonableness. She tried to put together her scanty clues to figure out the basis for his irrational response. The first few times he had become cold and withdrawn she had not noticed any particular reason for it. Then in Belize, it had been obvious that it was frustration and rejection that had set him off. But what on earth did art and Hollywood and Olga's decorating have to do with it? There must be some way to put it all together, but hours of puzzling in between periods of fitful dozing brought Susanna no closer to an answer. By dawn she finally fell into a deep sleep, and when she awakened again Davin had apparently sneaked in and out of the room, and had gone off again for the day.

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