Violet Fire Read Free Page A

march to the polls!”
    â€œRathe, do something,” Jocelyn urged frantically. “My God, I’ll never live this down. I’ll be ruined. A free-loving man-hater besieging my own home!”
    Rathe’s mouth hurt from smiling. “Come on down, ma’am,” he cajoled softly, reaching out a hand as he took a step forward, about to swing onto the piano stool.
    She pointed the gun straight at his chest. “Stop right there! I’m not finished. I—”
    One of van Horne’s man servants was stealthily approaching. Jocelyn was signaling to him desperately. The woman swung around just in time. As she did so, the gun went off, obviously by accident, causing her to jump and everyone to shrink back.
    â€œSend for the police,” van Home shouted to the room in general as his wife collapsed to the floor. “Look! My wife has fainted! I want that woman arrested!”
    The suffragette woman was thoroughly aroused now. Wisps of red hair were escaping her bonnet to frame her face. “Tomorrow we must go to the polls! We must attempt to end this male tyranny, this domination based on strength and might, not right!”
    â€œI cannot believe this,” Bradford Ames said.
    â€œShe is crazy,” Patricia agreed.
    Triumphantly now, the woman cried, “It’s not just a matter of voting! We must liberate ourselves from all domination! Don’t allow these perverted philistines to use your bodies for their own lusts! Liberate yourselves completely! We are equal!” She was so excited her arms flailed like a windmill, and two accidental shots followed, flying harmlessly into the paneled ceiling.
    Rathe started laughing again.
    â€œCan you believe this?” Thadeus Parker asked.
    â€œThis is an outrage!” shouted van Horne. “Where are the police?”
    â€œI have never seen anything like this.” Rathe grinned at Thad. “And I’ve seen quite a bit, believe me.”
    â€œWe must take charge!” the redhead cried. “The time is now!” The occupants of the salon all cringed as another shot exploded from the gun, this time purposefully aimed at the ceiling. Rathe grinned again—he couldn’t help it—and shook his head. If she wasn’t careful she was going to get herself into trouble.
    â€œHas anyone sent for the police?” Parker asked.
    â€œI just sent the coachman,” Ames replied.
    â€œWe cannot collude!” shouted the woman hysterically. “To marry one of these tyrants, to bear his children, to keep his larder and to warm his bed—that is collusion.”
    Rathe smiled. Was she a little bit unhinged? Did she expect women to give up men? Give up matrimony? He chuckled and started forward.
    She whirled to face him, pointing the gun at his chest.
    He made out a small, pointed chin and full coral lips set in a frown of determination. “Come on down heah, darlin’.”
    â€œDon’t come any closer,” she warned. “Philistine! Philanderer! Tyrant!”
    He leaped onto the piano knowing she had no shots left.There was a long mahogany table behind her covered with porcelain bowls, Oriental vases, and other bric-a-brac. She lunged toward it; he lunged after her. His arms closed around her waist, pulling her against him. Her body was as warm and soft and feminine as any woman’s. She struggled. He chuckled again. “You should count your bullets, sweetheart,” he drawled softly.
    â€œPig!” she screamed.
    He saw it coming just in the nick of time—a vicious and unladylike elbow at his groin. He spun away and she leaped from the piano onto the table, stepping precariously, causing the dishes and vases to clatter to the floor.
    A huge grin broke out on Rathe’s handsome face and he leaped after her, sliding on the thickly waxed wood. He knocked over two snifters full of brandy and more glass crashed and broke. She screamed, grabbed a vase at the end of the