A Novel Seduction (31 page)

He sat on the toilet to pull on the thick socks, folding them over the flashes that had been pinned to them. There were no brogues. He hoped his boots would do and laced them up. There was also no shirt. He stuck his head outside the door and was lucky to catch Dr. Albrecht scurrying by.

“Oh, you look grand,” she said.

He made a courtly bow, which made her giggle, and asked, “Is there a shirt for this, or do I wear my own?” Not, of course, that his duffel bag held anything more than T-shirts, a couple button-down collar shirts and a sweater.

She held up a finger. “Let me check. I think there is.”

She darted away, and Axel looked in the mirror at the two-day growth of beard. He probably should shave for the party. Then his vanity chimed in to remind him Ellery had always preferred him looking, as she’d said, “a little Colin Farrell.”

“No one asked your opinion,” he replied pointedly to his vanity.

He reached for his shaver, standing firm on the notion he should not attend to Ellery’s desires, but then changed his mind.

Oh, the hell with it.

Perhaps he’d take his own “compromise” position, trimming the whiskers into a nice Wilford Brimley or something.

He heard a light tap and the door opened. It was Ellery, and she jumped a foot.

* * *

She felt her heart go off in her chest like a cartoon alarm clock, and if there’d been a wooden beam above her, she would have bonked her head on it. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

She hoped he wouldn’t, since she could barely form a sentence. He looked amazing. He was bare to the waist, his chest covered with its usual light pelt of auburn curls, and the musculature of his stomach rippled and bent as he moved. But it wasn’t the nakedness that stunned her: It was the heavy, dark tartan of black, blue and green fanned over his legs, revealing lovely, round knees and
outstanding
calves.

How had she not noticed those calves before? Here she’d been mooning for years over his forearms, and his calves made his forearms look like some anemic appetizer on an erogenous man-part smorgasbord.

“I… I…” She couldn’t take her eyes off him. The effect was overwhelming. “I’m sorry. I was supposed to clean up in here.” With effort, she backed out, mortified. Then she stopped and opened the door wider. “Wait a second. Why aren’t you changing in your room?”

“Dr. Albrecht kicked me out. Said she needed to clean. Sent me and my dry-cleaning bag down here.”

“Ah.” The mad German matchmaker at work. “Well, if you don’t mind making sure there’s toilet paper and clean towels when you leave, I’ll just head to—”

“Wait. I want to talk.”

He dug a heather-blue sweater out of his duffel and
jerked it over his head. Why is it men always dress like it’ll be the last time that item of clothing will ever be usable?

She gave him a look. “I believe I heard everything I needed to upstairs. Sucky article, no principles. Got it.”

“‘Sucky’? I don’t remember seeing that in
The New York Times Style Guide.”

“Funny. Was there something more you needed to add?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Oh, great. Are my teeth stained? Does my outfit bother you?”

He made a point of running his eyes over the skirt and sweater.

“Actually, your outfit is pretty nice.”

She harrumphed. Flattery was going to get him nowhere. However, if he flashed that calf one more time…

It was getting harder to fit anger and attraction into her jet-lagged brain.

“If you have an apology, I’ll listen,” she said. “Otherwise, you can just—”

“I don’t have an apology,” he said then added, abashed, “I have a regret. The article is shit, Ellery. You know it and I know it. But I should have been nicer about it.”

“Gee, and you still wonder why we broke up.”

He bent to zip his duffel bag. Then he gave her a troubled look, and the temperature in the room changed in a way Ellery could not directly identify.

“I need to talk to you,” he said. “It’s important. Let’s take a walk.”

She uncrossed her arm and gestured to him to proceed.

He was unnaturally silent as they picked their way through trees framed by the pink evening sky, and her pique had been replaced by worry. The leaves crunched underfoot, and even in the unnatural warmth Ellery could smell the iron tang of oncoming winter. Behind them, the sounds of guitar, tin whistle and bodhrán rose on the wind as the band tuned and practiced in the barn. Ahead of them the rise of Cairnpapple shone in the fading light.

Axel paused to help her over a gnarled root. “It’s about Jill,” he said without preamble.

A spike of fear shot up Ellery’s back.

“She’s okay—well, she will be.” He sighed. “She’s pregnant, Ellery. She’s scared.”

So many questions flew through Ellery’s head, she didn’t know where to start. She finally decided on, “Who’s the father?”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t told me and I didn’t ask.”

Told
him
. Ellery felt a kick that made her stomach contract with its ferocity.

“She told
you
?”

“Ellery”—he put his hand on her arm—“the important thing is helping Jill.”

She pulled away. “I know what the important thing is.”

“I know you do. That’s why I told you. I am incapable of providing that kind of help.”

“I sure know that.”

He flinched, and she knew the remark had hit home.

“I’m trying to do the right thing,” he said.

Yes. Yes, he was. He had told her. She was grateful for that. She turned, unwilling to let him see her pain and swiped a palm under her eye.

“When?” she asked.

“I dunno. A month or so ago, I guess. She’s not very far along. She just found out.”

“When did she call?”

“An hour ago.”

“I need to talk to her.” She started back toward the house.

“Ellery, wait. She asked me not to tell you.”

Ellery froze. It was bad enough to not be told first. But to be kept purposefully in the dark?

“Why would she tell you?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her in years. But I know why she doesn’t want to tell you.”

“Why?”

“She said because you never make mistakes and you wouldn’t understand.”

The coup de grâce. Ellery had worked so hard trying to
make life perfect for her sister, she’d forgotten to show her that there were ways to work through hard times. Ellery’s shoulders heaved, and the next thing she knew, Axel had his arms around her.

“That’s not true, you know,” she said, crying. “I make mistakes.”

“I’d say ‘Don’t I know it,’ but I’m afraid you wouldn’t laugh.”

She did laugh, and then cried more. She thought of her own fear when she’d found herself in the same unexpected spot. “I have to call her, Axel.”

“I know, and that’s why I told you. She’s going to be royally pissed, but I can live with that.”

“What’s she going to do?”

“That I don’t know. She has an appointment at the college clinic on Monday.”

Her breath caught. “An appointment for what?”

“I don’t know. Advice.”

She pulled away. “I need to call. I have to tell her—” She stopped. “I have to talk to her.”

Axel hugged his arms around him as though a cool breeze had blown through. “Ellery, what happened to us? At the end. What happened?”

“Oh, Axel, do we have to do this now?”

“Please. Just tell me. I’ve waited all these years. Please, tell me.”

She shook her head. “It was so long ago.”

“I know you were pregnant.”

The words hung in the air like mists from an ancient river. “How…?”

His eyes creased for an instant, as if reliving a long-ago
blow. “Your doctor’s office called. The day I was packing. To say…” He searched for the right words. “To say it was done. I assume that was part of why you ended things. I know it wasn’t the only reason.”

“Oh, Axel.” A heated shame came over her. Five years was a long time to wonder about such a thing, and so many things had changed. “I should have told you.” She thought of lying there alone on the hospital gurney. “It made me so sad. I was so afraid.”

He reached out but his hand seemed to stop midway. “Was it mine?” he asked softly, and the true horror of his situation hit her.

“Oh, God, Axel! I’m so sorry. Yes, it was yours. I’m capable of a lot of horrible things, but I would never have done that to you.”

He was reeling from the news. She could see it on his pale cheeks and in the whiteness of his knuckles.

“And the baby,” he said. “You…?”

“I lost it, Axel,” she said. “A night you were gone. They had to—”

“I understand.”

He sat down on the tree they’d climbed over and put his head in his hands. She’d failed Jill and she’d failed him. That was a lot of failing in one lifetime.

She took a step toward him but was afraid to get closer. “I planned to tell you about it… about the pregnancy.”

“Did you?” He didn’t look up. She could see the rise and fall of his chest.

“I was so happy. I was, Axel. Despite our differences. At first I wasn’t sure—I mean, about actually
being
pregnant.
I thought I was, and I found to my surprise the thought made me pretty happy. I wanted you to be there when I took the test, but we were out someplace and I wasn’t feeling very well, and I should have told you, but all I wanted to do was go home—”

“It was the night at Mullen’s, when Brendan was playing.” He gazed at her expectantly, awaiting her confirmation that his guess was right.

“Yes, it was.”

“And I didn’t want to leave.”

“Nope.”

“And I drove you home and came back.”

She nodded. “And then I tested myself and I knew.” She looked at him, feeling the sadness of it all. “And then I was mad at you and didn’t want to tell you. Oh, God, it seems like such a long time ago and such a stupid thing to be mad about. And once I’d stopped being mad, I wanted to wait. Until I was further along and it was safe.”

“Safe.” He gave half a chuckle as if nothing between them had ever been safe.

“And then… later… I began to lose the baby…”

“And I was gone again. How did you know—I mean, that something was wrong?” His eyes were as clear as green lochs.

“Terrible cramps. Just terrible. Like a knife in my gut.”

“Oh, God. Did Jill know?”

It was Ellery’s turn for a regretful half laugh. “No, of course not. If she did, maybe I’m the one she would have called today.”

He crossed his arms, staring into the empty fields
beside them. The slow, plaintive notes of “Auld Lang Syne” drifted through the trees.

Ellery glanced back. “Oh, dear, it sounds like they’re starting the party.”

“I hope,” he said, giving her a weak smile, “they don’t start the party with
that
.”

She laughed.

“I don’t understand,” he said, regret tinged with awe. “How did you do it? You were all by yourself.”

Ellery felt the tears begin to well again. “It was awful. I was so scared.”

In an instant Axel was on his feet, holding her tight as she wept. She could feel the rough finish of the sweater’s wool and the warmth of his shoulder beneath. He patted her until she stilled.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t a very good boyfriend.”

She looked up at him, the light of the sunset catching the red in his hair, and went to pat his cheek but found herself kissing him instead. He held her with the tips of his fingers, as if she were porcelain that might break.

A phone buzzed and she broke away, forgetting for a second she had left hers in her room.

Axel pulled his out of his sporran. “It’s Black. Christ almighty.” He rolled his eyes and sent the call into oblivion.

“I should call Jill.”

“Yes. Go, go. I’ll walk you back.”

“No, there’s no point. She won’t take my call. I tried before I found you. I got no answer. Then I got a text:
SORRY I MISSED YOUR CALL. I’M BEAT. WHY DON’T WE CATCH UP WHEN YOU’RE BACK FROM YOUR TRIP
. She’s blowing me off.”

Axel held up his phone. “She’ll answer me.” He pressed the screen a couple times, then lifted the phone to his ear. After a second or two he nodded. She’d answered.

“Jill, hi. Listen, I was thinking more about what you told me.”

Ellery heard a short, indistinct reply.

“You know the best person to help you with this is your sister.” Axel rubbed the spot between his brows. Jill’s reply was more agitated.

“Jill, you called me because you needed help, and I have to do what I think is right.” He took a deep breath. “I told Ellery.”

The agitation turned to fury. Ellery could recognize the sound even if the words themselves were indiscernible.

“Yes, I know a friend wouldn’t have done this. But I’m not your friend. I’m a grown-up and I have to help. I’m sorry. Here’s your sister. She knows everything.”

He handed Ellery the phone, and Ellery patted him on the back. He had done well. He took her hand and kissed it. Then, with a brief wave, he started back toward the house.

Ellery took a deep breath. “Jill,” she said into the cool silence, “I’m so sorry. I’ve been through this myself. I never told you, but back when Axel and I were together, I was pregnant once too. Tell me what happened.”