Vanished

3

The next morning, Marielle made one of her rare appearances in the dining room for breakfast. Usually, she had her breakfast in her room on a tray, but this morning she had woken early. She found Malcolm downstairs, finishing his coffee and eggs, and reading the morning paper. In Italy, Mussolini had just demanded that France hand over Corsica and Tunisia.

“Good morning, my dear.' He was always courteous, always kind, always seemed pleased to see her, like a charming houseguest he hadn't expected to encounter quite so early. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not very,” she said honestly, which was rare. Usually it was easier to just say what was expected…fine…thank you…excellent…marvelous…but her night had been filled with nightmares.

“One of your headaches again?” He put down the paper to look her over, but she seemed well. In fact, she looked better than she had in a while, he decided.

“No, just a long night. I probably drank too much coffee after dinner.”

“You should drink wine, or champagne.” He smiled. “That'll put you to sleep.”

She smiled in answer. “Are you home tonight?”

“I think so. We'll spend a quiet evening by the fire.” Everything was always such a frenzy right before Christmas, the week before they had been out five evenings in a row, at least this week was quiet. “What are you doing today?”

“I thought I'd take Teddy to the park this morning.” She led such a small life, he felt. She seldom went out, never had lunch with friends. He had introduced her to everyone, yet even after all these years, she kept to herself. She was a very quiet young woman. And when he pressed her about it from time to time, she always said she didn't have time, but the truth was she didn't have the courage. And only she knew what terrible sins she thought she was hiding.

“I want to take him to Snow White too. Do you think he's too young?” Marielle asked him. It had just opened earlier that year, and it was an enormous hit.

Malcolm shook his head as he set down his paper. “Not at all. I think hell love it. That reminds me. I want to check on the progress of the train room. They're working down there like elves.” It was only twelve days until Christmas.

“Will it be ready in time?” She knew it would, with Malcolm in charge of the project. He tolerated no broken deadlines.

“I certainly hope so. By the way, I'm going to Washington next week. Would you like to come?”

“To see your friends again?” He had important friends in the War Department, and he loved going to Washington to see them. He nodded. “About some important business I'm doing. And then I have an appointment with the German ambassador, about a project in Berlin.”

“You sound as though you'll be very busy.”

“I will, but you're more than welcome to come with me.” But she knew perfectly well that he would have no time for her there, and despite his invitation, she would only be a burden. And she had so much to do before Christmas.

“I'd really love to stay here and get organized. Would you be upset if I didn't come?”

“Of course not, my dear. It's up to you. I'll be back very quickly.”

“Maybe after the New Year,” she suggested, wondering if she was failing him, or if he'd be angry at her not going. She was always afraid of doing the wrong thing, or hurting someone, or letting him down, or not being wherever, or not doing something she should be. But where should she be? With Malcolm in Washington, or here with Teddy? Those decisions had become difficult for her over the last nine years, because if you made the wrong choice, it could cost you all you had. She had learned that lesson and paid for it dearly. “Is that all right?” she asked nervously.

“It's fine.' He was quick to reassure her. He kissed her good-bye then, and a little while later, she went upstairs to dress. And later that morning, as promised, she went out with Teddy. Miss Griffin had attempted to accompany her, but for once Marielle had been firm and told her that she and Teddy wanted to be alone for the morning. He was thrilled with what she said, and Miss Griffin was so outraged that, as Marielle and Teddy made their way downstairs, they heard the nursery door bang smartly behind them. Teddy only laughed, and Marielle smiled as she put his coat on, and Brigitte stopped to chat with them for a minute, on her way upstairs to see Malcolm.

“Are you going somewhere exciting this morning, Theodore?” She said it with her very slight German accent, and her eyes exchanged a warm smile with Marielle. Marielle had always felt that the two of them might have been friends, had circumstances been different. But Malcolm would never have tolerated Marielle befriending his employees.

“We're going to the park,” Teddy said proudly, glancing at Marielle with the full measure of his affection. And then, noticing the blue dress his father's secretary had on, he executed a little bow that brought a smile to Brigitte's lips. “I like your dress, Briggy. You look very pretty.”

The young German woman laughed, and blushed faintly. “Perhaps you will tell me that again in another twenty years, young man, yes?” Teddy looked a little baffled by the suggestion, as both women smiled. “Never mind, thank you very much. I think you look very handsome too. Is that a new coat?” It was the navy blue English coat with matching cap which Miss Griffin had ordered for him, and which he hated.

“No.” He shook his head matter-of-factly. “It's my old one.” And then he looked up at his mother. She had her fur coat on, and they were both ready.

“All set?” She smiled down at him and he nodded, and then stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on Brigitte's cheek, noticing the faint musk of her perfume.

“Have a good time, Theodore.” She waved, as he left, hand in hand with his mother, and he turned back once for a last wave at Brigitte.

It was freezing outside, as it had been the day before, and she decided to have Patrick drive them up Fifth Avenue, to bring them closer to the boat pond. Teddy chatted all along, and as they walked into Central Park from Fifth, Marielle was telling him about Paris when she lived there. Malcolm loved telling him about his trips to Berlin, and she knew that Miss Griffin was always rhapsodizing to him about England.

“One day we'll go on a trip to Europe, on a big ship, like the Normandie,” and then she told him all about that, as he listened to her wide-eyed.

“Will Daddy come too?” The idea of a trip on a ship really thrilled him.

“Of course. We'll all go.” She loved going on trips with him. She hated leaving him behind, which was one of the reasons why she didn't like traveling with Malcolm and was relieved that he seldom asked her,

Teddy looked thoughtful as they walked along hand in hand, the wind bitter cold on their faces. His nose was red and her eyes watered but they were well bundled up in coats and hats and scarves and mittens. “Maybe Daddy will be too busy,” he said with regret, and Marielle tried to reassure him.

“No, I'm sure hell come if we take a trip like that.” She tried to sound lighthearted as she said it. But he, was right, Malcolm was always busy, especially lately.

“Maybe we could meet him in Berlin, if he's too busy to come with us,” Teddy said with a matter-of-fact air. He was so bright. He noticed everything. Even that Malcolm did a lot of business with the Germans. It was why Brigitte was so useful to him, and probably why she had lasted for six years in his office. She was incredibly efficient, as well as nice, and his dealings with Germany seemed to have tripled over the years of their marriage.

“Maybe we could go to London too,” Teddy added out of kindness to Miss Griffin. “And we could see Big Ben, and the Tower of London…and Buckingham Palace…and the King!” He seemed very impressed by everything Miss Griffin had told him and Marielle smiled as they walked along and finally reached the boat pond. But there was a thin layer of ice on it today, and she felt a shiver run through her. Marielle pulled the child close to her, as though something evil waited for them there, and pulled him away from it very quickly.

“There's no one here today. Let's go see the Carousel.” But she was very pale in the chill wind as she said it.

“I wanted to see the boats.” He looked so disappointed.

“There are none.” She was looking frightened, but he was too young to know it. “Come on…let's go;”

“Can we walk on the ice?” he asked, fascinated by the thin crust that lay across most of the boat pond, but she pulled him away even harder. “Never, ever do that, Teddy, do you hear me?” He nodded, startled by the vehemence of her reaction. It was then that she looked across the ice, and thought she saw him. It seemed impossible this time, as though her mind were playing tricks on her again. Maybe she was finally going mad. Maybe coming here today, to the pond, with its thin veil of ice on it, had been too much for her. She closed her eyes for a moment, as though to clear her vision, and then opened them again, very quickly.

“We're going home.” Her voice was a croak of terror as her eyes darted between Teddy and the man she thought she saw across the lake, as though she were still not sure of what she was seeing.

“Now?” Teddy looked as though he might cry. “We just got here. I don't want to go home. Can't we go to the Carousel?”

'I'm sorry…well go for a drive…the zoo…tea…maybe the skaters…” anything to get away from here. As she stood there, her whole body began shaking. But as she tried to lead the child away, the man she had seen ran as fast as he could around the lake, coming toward them. And as he reached her, his black hair was disheveled, his eyes looked wild, and she saw with dismay that she knew she hadn't been mistaken. As Teddy saw the look on his mother's face, he was suddenly frightened. His mother had always instilled in him a vague terror about strangers, and this one looked particularly dreadful. He was tall and disheveled and he seemed to swoop down on them breathlessly, and without warning, he grabbed both of Marielle's shoulders in his hands, looked her in the eye, and then stared down at Teddy. But at least she knew now she wasn't mad. She hadn't dreamed him. It was Charles, and then she remembered how close the boat pond was to the Delauney mansion. He had had a long drunken, sleepless night himself, and had come out for some air to sober up before a meeting with his father's lawyers.

“What are you doing here?” He looked at her, and then at the boy. “And who is that?” There was something of Andre in his face, and yet he was so different. There was something almost angelic about this child's face, it was a face you wanted to kiss, with eyes that made you want to laugh the moment you saw him.

“This is Teddy,” she said quietly, her voice still shaking.

“Teddy who?” He stared at her accusingly, and she suspected instantly that he was not entirely sober. “This is Teddy Patterson.” She straightened her chin and looked Charles in the eye. He couldn't do this to her, couldn't make her feel guilty again, couldn't ruin her life… or could he?…”My son.” Teddy held tightly to her hand wondering who the man was. He thought he looked pretty scary.

“You didn't tell me that yesterday. You only told me about Malcolm.” His eyes bore into hers so hard it was almost painful to meet his gaze, but nonetheless she met it. She was braver than Malcolm thought. But Charles had always known that.

“It didn't seem the time or place to tell you.”

“Why not?” He was accusing her again. He was angry at her. “Why didn't you tell me?” She knew his anger too well. It was the same anger which, nine years before, had almost killed her.

“It seemed unfair to tell you about him yesterday.”

“And now?” His eyes were furious and his face was right next to hers, as Teddy watched in terror. In a minute, he was going to scream, if he could, if only to protect her. “Is it unfair?” Charles asked again, this time louder, seeming very drunk now. But she was calm, and in total control. She had Teddy with her, and she was not going to let Charles hurt them. No matter what had happened in the past, he no longer scared her. She could not let him.

“I don't think we should discuss this now.” She pulled Teddy closer to her, and gently touched his face so he wouldn't be afraid. But it only seemed to make Charles more angry. He was still such a striking-looking man, and she still felt weak in the knees when she looked at him, but he seemed so out of control now.

“Why do you have a child?” He shouted at her as she tried not to flinch, so she wouldn't frighten Teddy. “What do I have?”

“I don't know…your battles in Spain…your beliefs…your friends…your writing…if you have nothing else, perhaps that's a choice you made.” She was desperate not to discuss it in front of Teddy, but she was afraid just to walk away and make Charles even more angry. She held tightly to the child's hand, trying to give him courage with her pressure.

“That's a choice you made, seven years ago when you left me,” Charles shot at her. “You made that choice for me. We could have had more children.”

“We have to go now.” She began to cry as she said the words and Teddy stared at them, wondering what it all meant as she spoke to Charles again, this time more softly. “What kind of life could we have had? You hated me, and you were right then, I hated myself too…maybe I always will…but Charles, I couldn't have stood it. I couldn't have looked you in the eye, knowing how you felt about me.” She had told him all that seven years ago, before she left Europe.

“I told you I wanted you back,” he said stubbornly.

“It was too late then.” She took a breath and wiped her eyes, forgetting Teddy for an instant. “I think you'd always have blamed me, just as I blamed myself.”

She had still loved him in some ways, but she could never have stayed with him, not after what happened.

Charles looked down at Teddy then, as though he still could not believe he even existed. He was a beautiful child, in some ways, even more beautiful than Andre. And then Charles looked at Marielle again, wanting desperately to hurt her. “You don't deserve this,” he raised his voice to her, and for an insane moment, he wanted to slap her. Why had she married again? Why did she have this child? Why in God's name had she left him? But they both knew why, and perhaps it could never have been any different. “You don't deserve him,” he said with the cruelty she still remembered. It was the other side of their great love, the side that had battered her before she left him.

“Perhaps not.”

“You shouldn't have left me.”

“I had no choice. If I'd stayed, it would have killed me.” And he knew that was true too. They had both gone more than a little crazy. She with attempted suicides, he with his wild attack on her the night it happened. But they had both been so mortally wounded by what had happened.

“Perhaps we would all have been better off dead…” There were tears in his eyes now too, as Teddy drew even closer to his mother.

“That's a terrible thing to say.'

“For you, maybe…you have a life now… a husband… a child. And why should you? Why should you, dammit, when I still wake up every day thinking of him…and of you…wishing I had died with him. Do you ever think of him? Do you ever remember… or is it all forgotten?” But as he said the words, fury suddenly raged in her eyes. Fury born of years of pain and anguish, about which Charles knew nothing.

“How dare you? There isn't a day that I don't remember, that I don't think about him…that I don't see his face if I close my eyes… or even yours…” Just as she had seen them the night before as she lay sleepless, remembering, fighting herself not to call him. “But nothing is going to bring him back, no matter how badly we destroy our lives now, or each other. He's gone…he's at peace…perhaps it's time for us to be at peace too.”

“I will never be at peace without you.” He raged at her, looking young again, and this time she smiled at him, and shook her head. In some ways, despite the fact that he was older, he seemed even more childish. He hadn't gone on, hadn't grown, hadn't healed, he had just stayed there, doing the same crazy things he had done as a boy, playing the expatriate, fighting other people's wars, and in some ways, hiding from being a grown-up.

“That's a stupid thing to say. You don't even know who I am now. Or maybe even who I was then. Maybe it would have all died a normal death anyway, if things had been different.” She looked down at Teddy then, and smiled at him, and pulled him close beside her. “Teddy, this is an old friend. His name is Charles, and sometimes he acts a little crazy, but he's a nice man. Would you like to say hello?” Teddy shook his head firmly and hid in the folds of her fur coat. They had spoken much too freely, but at four, a lot of it had missed him. The tone hadn't, the anger, the passion, but the history was too complicated for him to follow.

“I'm sorry if I frightened him.” He looked briefly remorseful, but still like a madman. He hadn't shaved since the day before, and everything about him looked wild and woolly.

“You should be. And for what? Can you really hold this against me?” He looked at her and then at the boy long and hard, and when he looked back at her, the look in his eyes hadn't mellowed. Instead he frightened her more, and he seemed even drunker. For the first time in a long time, she knew real terror. It reminded her of the bad times when Charles had become a stranger.

“He should be mine. By all rights… he should be.” He was staring hard at Teddy, hidden in her coat, and Marielle looked at Charles firmly.

“But he isn't yours, Charles.”

“What right did you have to move on… to do this… to have a child without me?” As he said the words, his fury seemed to be growing.

“You agreed to the divorce, I had every right.” She refused to be bullied.

“You said that if I didn't, it would kill you.”

“It nearly did.” And they both knew she meant it.

“I'd rather you were dead than have this child without me.” His eyes were like daggers into her heart as he said it, and she shrunk back from him, frightened and disgusted, wondering how she had ever loved him, reminded of how irrational he could be, and why she had left him.

“Charles, stop it.” He reached out and grabbed her arm then, and Teddy let out a small shriek and jumped behind her. “You're frightening the child. It's not fair. Stop it!”

“I don't give a damn. He's mine… by all rights, he should be.”

“Stop!” She spat the word at him, no longer afraid of him or anyone as she wrenched her arm free. She was not going to watch her life fall around her. “He's not yours, and neither am I…and Andre wasn't ours either. No one belongs to anyone else in this world. We all belong to God, and we're here on loan to each other…and when the loan is up, it's over…and it's terrible…and it hurts like hell…and sometimes it comes much too soon…but we didn't own him…you didn't own me, or I you…and I don't own Teddy.”

“You love him, don't you?”

“Of course I do.”

“And he loves you?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you have that, and I have nothing?”

“Maybe because I'm lucky. Or maybe because Malcolm felt sorry for me… or maybe just because that's the way it is, or I'm willing to pay a price you aren't.”

“And what price is that? What price did you pay to marry him?” She had married a man she didn't love and who didn't love her and she knew it. It was not as easy as one might have thought. But it was also something Charles would never even have considered doing for a moment. “What exactly did you give up when you married him?”

Hope…love…tenderness…the kind of love and passion they had once shared…the kind of love that she knew existed. “Everybody gives up something when they get married.” Out of loyalty to Malcolm, she would never have told Charles the truth. “Perhaps I gave up the past.”

“I'm deeply impressed by your sacrifice,” he said scornfully, glaring at her through the booze.

“I'm deeply impressed by your behavior. You're as bad as ever.” He had upset Teddy and her, and they had resolved nothing. There was nothing to resolve anymore. It was over. “There's no reason to do this to me, or yourself. What do you think you're going to accomplish?” But he was staring at Teddy again, and the way he looked at him made her nervous. He was like that when he drank. It had happened in the old days too, he would drink too much and stay drunk all night and the next morning, and finally go more than a little crazy. He had destroyed an entire hotel room once, and a bar, and a restaurant, and nearly killed two men… and her, but only once. Only once…but she knew what he was capable of. It was hard to forget it.

“I apologize.” He looked at her unhappily, but he didn't sound as though he meant it. He looked down at Teddy then, who was peeking around his mother. “I apologize to you too, young man. I have been extremely rude to you and your mother. It's a bad habit I have, but I've known her for a long time, almost since we were children.” They had almost been children then. Eighteen and twenty-three…My God, they'd been babies. And then he looked at Teddy more seriously. “One day, I would like to get to know you.” Teddy didn't look as though he reciprocated the feeling, but he nodded politely. “I had a little boy once too… his name was Andre…” Charles's eyes filled with tears as he looked at Marielle again. “I'm sorry…maybe it's just because yesterday was so difficult…and seeing you…dammit…” He looked away and sniffed to try to clear his head. “Why is it always just there? Why does it hurt so damn much? Is it like that for you too?” He looked at her questioningly, but he was calmer again, and she nodded.

She had told him that at church the day before too, but he'd forgotten. And he'd started drinking the moment he left her.

“We should go back now,” she said again. “It's getting late.” Teddy had to have lunch, and go to the birthday party he was attending with Miss Griffin. In the end, it hadn't been much of a morning. In fact, it had been horrendous. And she was sorry. Her time with Teddy was so precious. “I'm sorry we ran into you like this.” It had been easier the day before, before he knew about her son. Now he was filled with anger and resentment. All during the night, he had drowned himself in alcohol and self-pity. But now he had set his feelings ablaze with the incendiary fumes of jealousy and fury.

“I'm leaving next week. I decided yesterday. Will you see me?”

She shook her head, holding Teddy's hand firmly in her own.

“Why not?”

“You know why. You're angry at me anyway, if we see each other it will just make things worse. Why torture ourselves with what we can't have now?”

“Who's to say what we can't have? You're not happy, it's written all over you. You're nervous, taut, wound up like a tight screw, your insides all tied in a knot. We can have anything we damn well want, if we've got the guts to take it” He seemed threatening somehow, when he said it.

“That's a nice attitude, Charles.”

“I can do whatever I damn well please.”

“How fortunate for you.”

“I want you.”

“Don't say that.” Her eyes blazed at him. “And even if you do, so what? We 'take it,' as you put it, and you leave and go back to Spain. Where would that leave me?” She was trying to reason with him, but it wasn't easy in the state he was in.

“Maybe it'll leave you happier than you are today. Or maybe you'd like to come with me.” The simplicity of it almost made her laugh. After six years she was supposed to just walk out on Malcolm, and their child, and go back to Europe with Charles as though nothing had ever happened. He really was more than a little crazy. “You could even bring the boy.”

“Your hospitality overwhelms me. And Malcolm? What happens to him after all this?”

“You win…you lose… he loses…”

“That's a rotten thing to suggest, Charles, and you know it. You also know me well enough to know I wouldn't do it.”

“Perhaps,” he said, grabbing her wrist in his powerful hand, “perhaps…you could be forced…”

“Charles, this is not Spain, and you are not fighting for my freedom. This is ridiculous,” but she was trying to cover the fact that the look in his eyes had scared her.

“How ridiculous would it be if I took something you wanted-or loved-very much…and then perhaps you could be…induced, shall we say… to join me?”

“What exactly are you saying?” Even the thought of what he was suggesting terrified her.

“I think you understand me.”

“You wouldn't do a thing like that.” He was suggesting that he kidnap Teddy in order to make her go with him, but he was mad, and even he wouldn't do that. Or would he? His eyes said he would. But history said he couldn't. Or could he?

“It all depends on how desperate I am, doesn't it?…doesn't it?…” He suddenly let go of her wrist and laughed, and she looked at him with terror. It would be a relief when she knew that he was gone again. She was suddenly sorry that she had run into him at the church the day before. Perhaps he still mourned for Andre too, but it had obviously twisted him into someone she no longer knew and didn't want to.

“If you ever did anything like that, I want you to know that you would never get away with it, and instead of making me follow you… I would kill you…and so would my husband.”

“You terrify me.” He laughed drunkenly again.

“You make me sick. We had something beautiful that I've cherished in my heart for twelve years…along with the memory of someone sweet and pure…and you use it in this vile way to poison yourself and everyone around you. That isn't what he was about, and it isn't what you were about then.”

“Perhaps I've changed.” He smiled evilly at her, but the tragedy for both of them was that he really hadn't. He still loved her, still longed for their child, wished she'd return, and that they could recapture a past long gone and never to be forgotten.

“Good-bye.” She looked at him sadly for a long moment, and smiled gently down at Teddy, as they walked away. “We're going home now.” There was nothing more to say to Charles and he was staring at them as they walked away, but this time he didn't ask her to call him. He was angry at her, angrier than he had ever been. She felt colder than ever as they walked back to the car, and Teddy said not a word until they reached it.

“I don't like him,” he said quietly, as the chauffeur closed the doors of the Pierce-Arrow. Patrick had followed them into the park, according to Malcolm's orders to him, to ensure their safety, and he had seen Charles again, but he had heard none of the conversation. He recognized him from the church, and he was ever more intrigued by what Marielle was up to. It was odd that she had taken the boy with her, but maybe she wanted the boy to meet him.

“He's not a bad man,” Marielle said sadly as they drove toward home. “He's very unhappy. We used to be very good friends.”

Teddy nodded, trying to understand it. And then he looked at her again, and asked a question she hadn't expected. “Who's Andre?” Her breath caught as he asked and she took a moment before she answered.

“Andre was his little boy. He died… a long time ago…and Charles has been very sad ever since then. That's what makes him act so crazy.” Teddy nodded then, as though now everything was clear to him. And then he looked up at his mother.

“Did you know Andre too?” She fought back tears as she nodded and held his hand tightly. She had wanted to tell him one day, but not like this, and not hiding behind the subterfuge she had to use now. But he was too young, and it was too soon. And she still had to try and answer his questions.

“I knew him too,” she said sadly, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“Was he nice?” That was always important to Teddy, and Marielle felt a sob lodge in her throat, begging to spring forward, but she wouldn't let it.

“He was very sweet…and very young when he died.” There were tears rolling slowly down her cheeks, and she wasn't sure what to say to Teddy. There was really nothing more to say to him. She just held him close to her, more grateful than ever that she had him. She was frightened too over what Charles had said to her. And she wondered if he meant it. Would he take the boy, to force her to come with him? It was unimaginable. She knew they were empty threats. He would never do anything to hurt Teddy. “I'm sorry we met him today I wanted to have a nice time with you at the boat pond.”

“That's okay.' He smiled up at her. “I always like to be with you.” He always said the thing that melted her heart, and made her love him.

“How about if we go to see Snow White tomorrow?” It was Sunday, and usually Malcolm liked to do paperwork at home, which left her at loose ends. And the best part was that Miss Griffin was off, and there would be no interference whatsoever. Teddy would be with Marielle all day, with Betty's help if she needed it, and Edith would baby-sit for him in the evening.

“Wow! Can we do that? Can we really see Snow Whiter

“We sure can. I'll arrange it.” He leapt out of die car when they got home and raced up the front steps as Haverford opened the door for them, and almost smiled as young Master Theodore exploded into the house as he entered.

And as he did so, he almost collided with his father. For a moment, Marielle wondered if he would tell Malcolm about Charles, but he was in too much of a hurry to get to lunch and get ready for the party, and he was much too excited about Snow White to even think about the odd man they had met in Central Park. Teddy was halfway to the third floor before Marielle even got her coat off.

“Where have you two been?” Malcolm asked conversationally. He had been to the office and back. He liked going in on Saturdays, and now he was going to his club for lunch with an old friend visiting from California. They were all rituals he enjoyed, and that were important to him.

“We went to the boat pond, but it was frozen.”

“It must have been awfully chilly,” he said, looking at her, and she nodded.

“You're going out?” she asked, wondering where he was going.

“Yes,” he gave her a businesslike kiss on the cheek, “but don't forget dinner at the Whytes' this evening.” They were giving a Christmas dance, and she was planning to wear a fabulous dress Malcolm had bought her from Madame Grès in Paris. It was all made of tiny, tiny folds of shimmering white satin, and she was going to wear it with diamonds at her throat and ears, silver shoes, and a floor-length ermine coat he'd given her for her birthday. It was quite an outfit.

“Do we have anything tomorrow night too?” Suddenly she couldn't remember. But it reminded him of the note he had just left on her desk that morning.

“I'm leaving for Washington a day early. I want to go down tomorrow afternoon, and have a quiet dinner with the Secretary of Commerce tomorrow night, and be ready for a full day of business with the ambassador on Monday.” In fact, he was so serious about the trip, he was taking both of his secretaries with him. “Is that all right with you?” They both knew it didn't matter if it wasn't, but he was always good about asking, and she was equally so about playing the game, pretending to “allow him.'

“It's fine. I have a date with your son to see Snow White tomorrow afternoon, and we'll have a quiet evening.” She smiled at her husband. His courteous ways were such a relief, after seeing Charles act like a madman.

“You're sure you won't come?”

“We'll be fine here.” She smiled again, and he kissed her forehead.

He signaled to Patrick that he was ready, and the driver went back out to the car to wait for him, as Haverford handed him his homburg. “See you later, my dear. Have a nice afternoon. Rest up for this evening. You don't want to get one of your headaches.” Sometimes she thought they all treated her like a cripple. Of course, the meeting with Charles would have been the perfect spark to provoke one, but she was fine all afternoon. She saw Teddy before and after he went out, and she went upstairs to kiss him again before she went out for the evening. Miss Griffin growled when she did, she felt she had already seen enough of him for one day, but sometimes it was fun to let him see how she looked when she was dressed for the evening, and he loved it. He oohed and aahed over everything she was wearing.

The Madame Grès dress looked sensational on her. It clung to her figure like angels' wings, and Malcolm said she looked like a goddess when he saw her. She won the attention of the Whytes' dinner guests too, everyone was in awe of how she looked, and most of the men told Malcolm how lucky he was to have a wife half his age, and so incredibly lovely.

She was quiet that night on the way home from the party, and he told her again how beautiful she had looked. She smiled her thanks, but she was thinking about Charles and the threats he had made in the park about Teddy. She decided that Charles was just enraged, she was sure that he would never harm a child, hers, or anyone else's. He was just frustrated at her refusal to see him and he didn't know what else to do, except threaten. But she was glad she had decided not to see him. It would have just fanned old flames, and made them both unhappy. Had things been different between them, she would have told Malcolm, but under the circumstances, she knew she couldn't. He had no idea how important Charles had been to her, or that he'd even existed, let alone that they'd been married and had a child, who had died, or what reason Charles might have to resent Teddy.

“You seem preoccupied.” He had noticed it too, but it gave her a dreamy look that made her seem even more beautiful, and for the first time in a long time, he found he wanted her, which surprised him.

“I was just thinking.”

“What about?”

“Nothing special.”

“Well, you look very special to me.” She smiled again, still looking distracted, and for reasons of his own, Malcolm decided not to pursue it.

One of the maids had stayed up to help her undress, and Marielle put her jewelry away, and went to bed. And as she lay there, she thought about Charles and the things he had said in the park…but tonight, when she slept, she didn't dream about Andre…but of Teddy.