Beware of the Beast Read Free

not my quotations," replied Mr. Fal staff quietly. "They were quoted to me."
    Charlotte got up again and walked restlessly round the room. "He can't do this to me! He can't?'
    Mr. Falstaff shrugged his thin shoulders. "I wouldn't bank on it, Miss Mortimer. Not unless you're prepared to shoulder the interest which might accrue."
    Charlotte walked to the window and looked down on the busy London street . Her mind was in a turmoil . She could not take in all she had heard, and what she had taken in, she could not believe. She had heard of people owning other people, of course, who hadn't? But that her father should be among that assembly didn't bear thinking about. Who was this man who thought he held the power of life or death over people? What manner of man could he be to drive another man to sacrifice his own daughter for a game of cards? It was like some Victorian melodrama, only she was no Vic torian. And he was a cold, heartless shell of a man, incapable of acquiring a wife for himself .
    Swinging round, she said: "So where is he? This Alex Faulkner? I want to see him."
    "He does not live in England," said Mr. Falstaff flatly. "And that will have to be arranged."
    Charlotte's lips trembled. "Oh, yes, arrange it. I want to tell him to his face exactly what I think of him!"
    Mr. Falstaff rose to his feet. "Oh, Charlotte, please! Don't act rashly. You're little more than a schoolgirl. Faulkner could eat you alive!"
    "Oh, really? Not when I get through telling him what an inhuman beast of a man he is! What a pathetic imitation of a man he must be to get his kicks through manipulating others!"
    Mr. Falstaff could see the unshed tears glistening behind her eyes, and he shook his head compassionately. "My dear child, stop tormenting yourself like this."
    "What am I supposed to do? Accept it?"
    "I think you may have to. There are worse fates."
    "Are there?"
    "Oh, yes. Once you have - er - provided the necessary heir to the Faulkner fortune, you will be free to leave. To get a divorce and live comfortably - luxuriously - for the rest of your life. Why, by the time you're twenty-one, you could be your own woman again."
    Charlotte's dark brows grew together. "Did he say so?"
    "It's in the contract."
    "The contract!" Charlotte drew an unsteady breath. "Where is it? I think I have a right to see it."
    Mr. Falstaff opened a drawer of his desk and withdrew a foolscap manilla envelope. He passed it across to her. "Take it home," he advised. "It's just a photo-copy, naturally. I'll telephone you tomorrow when I have some more informa tion."
    Charlotte fingered the envelope. "Just out of curiosity, where does Faulkner live?"
    "He has an island, off the Greek mainland - Lydros . He spends much of his free time there. I should also tell you that he has homes - houses - in many of the capital cities: of the world. There is his penthouse apartment overlooking Hyde Park, for example, and the town house he owns on the East Side of New York-"
    "I don't want to hear about his possessions," retorted Charlotte bitterly. Then: "You - you can tell whoever it is you communicate with that I refuse to consider this matter any further until I get to meet Alex Faulkner."
    Mr. Falstaff made a helpless gesture. "My dear, you don't tell Faulkner anything. You suggest."
    "Then suggest it. But make sure you get it right." She uttered a sound which was half between a laugh and a sob.
    "My God, imagine having to insist on meeting the man you're expected to marry!"
    At three o'clock in the morning, Charlotte went downstairs and made herself some tea. She had been lying awake for hours, her mind far too active to allow her to rest, her nerves too stretched with the sense of apprehension which filled her. She couldn't believe what was happening to her, and yet it was happening, and there seemed little she could do about it.
    She had cared for her father deeply, but the things she had learned about him the previous afternoon had shaken her to the core. Briefly she