Page 58 of Frankly, My Dear

She shook her head slowly. “Not anymore.” Her very breath seemed to burn in her throat.

“And what were you planning to do if you became pregnant? Would you leave with my child, as well?”

“I hadn’t thought…”

His nostrils flared with outrage.

Selene couldn’t believe that she had failed to examine the consequences of her actions. It was so unlike her.

“So we are in agreement then?”

She nodded.

“We won’t be making love.”

She nodded again, unable to speak.

His eyes held hers intently, intimately, for several long moments. Then he left, closing the door quietly after him. And one word clanged painfully in the air, unspoken. Love. Neither of them had spoken of love.

And that’s what might have made the difference.

Chapter Ten

After much frustration and two broken combs, Selene washed her hair one more time using a special cream rinse concoction Blossom gave her that smelled faintly of vinegar. The cook assured her it wouldn’t leave a lasting odor. Then, with Reba’s help, Selene cut three inches off the ends of her hair all around.

“What do you think?” Selene asked, turning her head this way and that before the mirror in her bedroom.

“I don’t know,” Reba said, glancing dubiously at the large clumps of dark hair scattered on the sheet Selene had spread on the floor.

“I think it’s perfect. I should have cut it long ago, despite my agent’s advice.”

“I vow, Selene, you say the strangest things. Everyone knows men hire agents to factor their goods, like cotton and sugar. Imagine a woman having an agent!”

Selene remembered James’s admonition not to speak of the future and decided not to explain. Instead, she stood, shaking the linen towel from her shoulders onto the sheet. Then she cast a calculating look at her new friend. “Your turn now, Reba?”

Reba turned startled, frightened doe eyes on her.

“Sit down and let me trim your hair a little.”

“Oh, no. Oh, blessed Lord, no. Fergus would never allow me to cut my hair.”

“Allow?” The scathing tone in Selene’s voice could slice concrete.

Red blotches bloomed on Reba’s pale cheeks, and she raised her chin defensively.

“I wouldn’t be cutting it short, hon,” Selene said, trying not to be so judgmental of another time. “Just trimming the edges and, most important, layering it for added thickness. Believe me, Reba, most women aren’t born beautiful; they just learn how to improve on the gifts God gave them.”

“Hah! What if God didn’t give them any gifts?”

“Reba, listen to me. The one thing I know is beauty. You’re already a pretty girl. I can make you prettier.”

Reba sighed wistfully. “Do you promise not to cut it short?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Selene said, making an X mark over her heart.

Reba backed away from her slightly. “Was that a voodoo sign?”

Selene laughed and pushed Reba onto the low stool. “No. What is it here with you people and voodoo?”