“That's terrific.” He marveled at what a manipulative scheming little bitch Pattie was. At least she had chosen the right brother this time. Greg would do everything she wanted him to. She had made the right choice for herself. But B.J. found himself wondering if she would destroy his brother. He hoped not, but he was almost sure that she would. He was dying to ask Ted what he thought of it, but he knew that now he wouldn't be able to speak to him again. “When are they getting married, Mother?”
“In June. Just before he turns thirty.” How touching. And Pattie would be twenty-four, and the perfect bride in a white lace dress. Suddenly the mental picture of it made him almost ill. His brother devoured by that bitch. “I'm sure it would be painful for you, Brad. But I think you should be here.”
“Of course. I wouldn't miss it.” He felt more like himself now, but he was still awed by his mother's skill.
“And you can leave the little war bride at home.”
“That's not even a remote possibility, Mother. We look forward to seeing you all then, and for now Merry Christmas. I won't bother to speak to Greg now, but give him my best.” He didn't give a damn about speaking to Greg. They had never been close and they were less so now, and he had had enough of his mother and her vicious attitude about Serena. He wanted to get off the phone at all costs. He was only sorry that Serena was in the room while he spoke to his mother. He truly wished that he could tell her all that he was thinking. But he would have to do that by letter, and without delay.
“I think he's still in the dining room with Pattie. We were just finishing breakfast when you called. Pattie came by early today, they're going to Tiffany's first thing this morning to pick out the ring.”
“Marvelous.”
“It could have been you, Brad.”
“I'm glad it's not.” There was a pregnant silence.
“I wish it were. Instead of what you've just done.”
“You won't feel that way when you meet Serena.”
There was an odd silence. “I don't normally socialize with maids.”
Brad wanted to explode at her reaction, but knew he could not, for Serena's sake.
“You're a fool, Brad.” She rushed on into his silence. “You ought to be ashamed. A man with your connections and your chances, and look what you've just done with your life. It makes me want to weep for what you're throwing away. Do you think you'll ever make it in politics now, with that kind of woman as your wife? For all you know she's a common prostitute calling herself a princess. Pattie said she looked like a tramp.”
“I'll let you judge for yourself. She's ten times the lady Pattie is. That little slut has been giving it away free for years!” He was beginning to lose his cool at last.
“How dare you speak of your brother's fiancée in those disgusting terms.”
“Then don't you ever”—his voice flew into the phone like a torpedo, and at her end Margaret Fullerton was taken aback —”don't you ever speak about my wife that way again. Is that clear? She's my wife now. Whatever you think, you'd damn well better keep it to yourself from now on. She's mine. That's all. That's all you need to know. And I expect everyone in this family, including that little bitch Pattie, to treat her with respect. You bloody well ought to love her, all of you, because she's a damn sight better than any of you, but whether you love her or not, you'd better be polite to her, and to me when you speak about her, or you'll never see me again.”
“I won't tolerate your threats, Bradford.” Her voice was like granite.
“I won't tolerate yours. Merry Christmas, Mother.” And with that, he quietly hung up the phone. When he turned to look sorrowfully at Serena, he saw that she was sitting beside the fire, her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking, and when he went to her and forced her to look up, he saw that her face was drenched with tears.
“Oh, darling, I'm so sorry you heard all that.”
“She hates me … she hates me … we broke her heart.”
“Serena.” He pulled her into his arms and held her against him. “She has no heart, my darling. She hasn't for years. It's something everyone in