The House of Vandekar Read Online Free PDF

know it. Now Mother darling, I’m going to run my bath. I’ll see you later. And mind you eat something!’
    It was Hugo’s wedding day. His valet woke him with tea at seven and he asked about the weather.
    â€˜It looks like a fine morning, sir.’
    â€˜Good. We can’t have it raining today, can we?’
    â€˜No. Certainly not, sir. Shall I bring breakfast later or would you like it now?’
    â€˜Now, I think. And some aspirin.’
    The valet smiled. ‘They’re on the teatray sir. In case you needed them.’
    His bachelor party had gone on well past midnight and ended in a nightclub, where Hugo had refused to celebrate his last night of freedom by taking one of the pretty dance hostesses upstairs. But he had drunk a lot of champagne, followed by brandy, and he had a headache. It was a fatal combination. He was usually very careful not to start the day with a hangover. He hadn’t wanted to sleep with the girl. One of his friends had taken her on instead. He’d laughed off the jokes at his expense. He couldn’t explain that his hunger was for one woman and no others could rouse him. If the wretched girl had stripped off in front of him, he wouldn’t have reacted. All he could think of was holding Alice in his arms that night, undressing Alice, pulling the long hair down and spreading it through his fingers. He wanted her so much it was like a sickness. From the moment on the terrace at Ashton she roused a passion he had never experienced before. Many women had come and gone through his life. He had fancied he was in love with some of them. He indulged a powerful sexual appetite without any scruple. He knew that his money was an attraction to women, his bachelor status even more so. He had pursued and been pursued but never caught. Alice had not attempted to catch him. He had been entrapped by her independence and her gaiety. And by the sexual aura of which she seemed quite unaware.
    His mother didn’t like her, Hugo knew that. His brother Phillip was admiring, but he was still too much his mother’s boy to have a favourable view of Alice. Hugo didn’t care. He didn’t care what anyone thought because this was the girl he was going to marry and that was the end of it. And she was strong. He had watched the contest between his mother and his fiancée, and Alice won without much difficulty. He loved his mother, but his father only tolerated stupid women and Hugo’s mother was very stupid. Alice was clever. Strong-willed, impulsive, highly intelligent. A challenge that would rise up and face him all through their married life, he realized that.
    He was marrying her that day. The ritual and the snobbery didn’t concern him. Nor did the service. He was not religious. Nor, he was sure, was she. He knew she was a virgin. Not because she told him, but because he’d known too many impostors to be deceived. Alice was innocent in her own way.
    He didn’t even think of taking her to bed. He was keeping that, whetting his own appetite and hers by deliberate self-control. He didn’t want a hole-and-corner seduction to spoil the climax of their wedding. He wanted to conquer that provocative sexuality and prove that he could master it. And her. Then offer her the world.
    It was indeed the wedding of the year. The society columnists went into ecstasies over the bride’s dress, the handsome bridegroom; they gushed over the distinguished guests – twelve hundred of them – the splendid reception at Londonderry House. It was lavish, glittering, romantic. The superlatives flowed like the champagne. And then the final accolade. The Prince of Wales attended the reception.
    Alice and Hugo were standing together; the receiving line had come to an end at last. Alice had shaken so many hands her own felt numb. The Prince arrived late; Hugo’s mother had begun to panic that he might not be coming. But there he was, advancing towards them.