Bandit Love - Page 57/133

"Why take the risk, Myra? You have been playing with fire, and the

dice are loaded against you. That is an Irishism and a mixed metaphor,

I suppose, but you know what I mean. If you lose your heart to Don

Carlos de Ruiz, you lose Antony Standish, and if you subsequently

discover Don Carlos is not in earnest you will be left broken-hearted,

humiliated, and with your matrimonial prospects ruined."

"I have no intention of breaking my heart about Don Carlos, and don't

intend to make a fool of myself, if that is what you mean," said Myra,

with a sudden change of manner. "I said I'd fool Don Carlos to pay him

out for asserting he had only been amusing himself with me, and I'll do

it yet--if I have not already done it. If he is actually in love with

me, I have the laugh on him now, in spite of what has happened."

"Myra, for goodness sake be sensible!" counselled Lady Fermanagh. "If

Don Carlos is actually in love with you and you make mock of him, his

love may turn to hate. And I warn you that the hatred of a Spaniard is

even more dangerous than his love."

"Pooh! I'm not afraid of him, and I don't understand why I have been

upsetting myself so much," exclaimed Myra, impulsively starting to her

feet. "I'll get even with him. I'll go to the Cavendish's dance after

all. Don Carlos is almost sure to be there, and I may get an

opportunity to punish him for his impertinence."

"Myra, I do wish you would drop this folly," said her aunt. "You must

realise you are running grave risks and imperilling your own happiness.

It seems to me, my dear, that as well as trifling with Don Carlos, you

are trifling with your own heart, and you are not playing fair with

Tony."

"I mean to get even with Don Carlos," Myra responded, stubbornly, with

an impatient toss of her red-gold head. "It will be amusing to see the

man who boasted that no woman could resist him chagrined and

broken-hearted because Myra Rostrevor has laughed at him and made his

boasts seem foolish."

"You have had your warning," exclaimed Lady Fermanagh abruptly. "Don't

expect any sympathy from me if you get burnt as a result of playing

with fire."

She swept out of the room, and as the door closed Myra made a moue,

flung herself down in the armchair again, and lit her cigarette.