The Rebellious Twin by Shirley Kennedy Page B

Clarinda. “Would you care to dance?”
    Despite her aversion to the man, Clarinda could not think of a reason why not. She allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor. When they started dancing, she could not help but compare Larimore’s limp clasp to the commanding manner in which Stormont’s hand grasped her own. It was a firm hand, quite hard, not girl-soft, like Larimore’s. And only this morning it was brazenly clasped around my leg.
    “You must have guessed which twin I was,” said Clarinda as they began to swirl around the floor.
    “It was not a guess.”
    “Then how did you — ? Oh, I know, you saw the scratch on my forehead.”
    “It doesn’t show.”
    “Then how?”
    He pulled back and regarded her strangely. “Of course I know who you are. How could you think I would not?”
    “But…” she began, faltered and fell into silence. Could he really tell her apart from Rissa? Hardly anyone could, but then…
    What a delightful possibility! Brightening, she looked him up and down. How magnificently tall he was, and how handsome with those snapping dark eyes and those dimples in his cheeks that magically appeared when he smiled. And how impeccably dressed, too. Perhaps he was not quite the villain she had thought he was. After all, Lord Westerlynn had been old but of sound mind. If he was fool enough to risk his estate in a ridiculous game, why blame Stormont?
    “I trust you have recovered from your fall,” said Lord Stormont.
    “Completely.” No sense mentioning her various aches and pains. They continued talking, mostly about horses, which she discovered he knew a great deal about.
    “So shall you be living at Hollyridge Manor?” she inquired as the dance came to an end.
    “No.”
    Startled, she asked, “Then what do you intend?”
    “I plan to sell it.”
    She was almost afraid to ask. “And the horses?”
    “Excellent stock, most of them,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’ll see they’re transported to my estate in Kent.”
    “Including Sham?” she asked in a small voice. Poor Sara Sophia.
    “Of course, Sham. A marvelous animal. I shall transport him, the Cleveland Bays, and all the thoroughbreds. That’s the lot, except for those two old pipers.” He shrugged indifferently. “I’ll have to get rid of them.”
    She had listened with rising dismay, and now a pain squeezed her heart as she realized Hollyridge’s beautiful horses would soon be gone, all except poor Bottom and Nicker. Broken and winded as they were, they would not spend the rest of their days grazing peacefully in a meadow as they deserved, but would undoubtedly be quickly dispensed with.
    The dance ended. She had to get away. “If you’ll excuse me, m’lord.”
    He asked, “Would you care to dance another?”
    She had half turned away before she wondered, why not tell him the truth? Stormont deserved to know what she thought of him, and why. She turned back and said with quiet firmness, “I am deeply disturbed at what you’re planning for the horses. Sara Sophia will be utterly devastated at the loss of Sham, and the rest of the horses, as shall I.”
    He had been smiling, but now his face might have been carved in marble. “I plan to sell them, not slaughter them.”
    “Oh, really? Who would want Bottom and Nicker? You might as well sell them straight to the slaughterhouse.”
    His face took on a tolerant, but firm expression. “Lady Clarinda, you must understand that Hollyridge Manor is mine now. I have the right to dispose of the horses however I wish.”
    She favored him with a frosty smile. “Of course it is your right, sir,” she said, edging the word with loathing, “and I can do nothing about it. But it is my right to say thank you for the dance, and no thank you, I do not wish to dance with you again.” That said it all, she decided, and with a quick turn, she left the dance floor, making sure she had a pleasant expression on her face in case that gleeful purveyor of gossip, Lady Constance