to do some shopping," Simon told her.
"Oh yes, I must," she said lightly. "Oodles of things."
"That's what money's for."
"Absolutely." There wasn't much she could afford, but she might, daringly, dip into her small savings. The shock of her inheritance had not yet sunk in. Even if it had, she would not have asked him for an advance on it.
"From the looks of your wardrobe," Simon murmured, "you've a job ahead of you."
Jill turned sharply toward him. His expression seemed arrogant, as if he had found her poor stuff, indeed. She remembered his pushing her clothes aside and grabbing the blue dress without so much as an apology.
"I have some summer things," she said. "They're quite in fashion, thank you."
"I'd suggest you begin again."
Jill, swallowing her anger, tried to find a smart answer, but none was forthcoming. There wasn't much she could do about her wardrobe, ever. It was simple and perfect for her purposes, at least for Chicago purposes.
She sighed. She could really see his point of view. She would have to begin afresh. She was an heiress now. Mrs. Simon Todd.
Perhaps she could ask him for some money. It was hers, or would be sooner or later. She shook her head. Never. She would never beg him for money. It was bad enough to begin the way they would. They were building something on a bedrock of money, that was all. It was queer. Too queer.
"Oh, I forgot." Simon reached into his jacket pocket and extracted a small jewel box. He opened it slowly and examined its contents for a second. "We are, I suppose, engaged," he said. "I suppose, in fact, that to you, being engaged means something extraordinary. Even given the circumstances. We mustn't disappoint, must we?" He slowly removed a ring which held the largest diamond Jill had ever seen. Emerald cut, it caught the white light and seemed to bounce it back with the intensity of a laser beam. It was flanked, as well, with additional diamond baguettes, the mounting of platinum. Jill stared at it, her heart pounding. She thought for a moment that he must be joking, or that the immensity of the diamond could only mean that it was fake.
"You may have to have the fit adjusted," he said carelessly, which somehow confirmed that the diamond was, indeed, quite real. "I took a chance and described long, thin fingers." He took her hand in his. "Warm," he said. "Warm hands, cold heart? Is that the way it goes?" He examined her hand, turning it over and back again. She felt a long, delicious tremor race through her entire body. "Long, slim fingers. Very beautiful, indeed. Hands not meant to do a scrap of work. You should be quite happy in Manaus, ordering about a dozen servants."
Jill stared at the ring, still held between his own strong, square-tipped fingers.
"You took a lot for granted," she murmured, almost mesmerized by the diamond's brilliance.
He slipped the ring on her finger. "You had no choice, had you? That's what I took for granted. There isn't a woman on earth who wouldn't have quit what she was doing for this opportunity." He lifted her hand to his lips.
Jill pulled her hand away. The diamond had an odd, uncanny light to it, the light of stars. "It's very generous of you," she said, "given the circumstances." She slid it off her finger and handed it back to him. "I really don't like to be equated with every woman on earth, as if I had no choice but to sell my soul to the devil."
He grinned. "I'm not the devil. Come on, we've struck a bargain, one that's important to me, and one that should be important to you. It's what your uncle wished. The ring merely seals my sincerity."
"My uncle never made his wishes known to me," Jill answered coldly. "I've only your word for it."
"And his will." The ring lay in his open palm, icy, tempting.
"Which for the time being I must take your word for." She had looked it over in her room, but was it real?
Simon reached out and took her hand in his once again. "
Pace
," he said, slipping the ring back onto her finger. Then he
R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)