I smiled. I’d only heard him nervous once. It was one of the few Friday nights he had come out with us. Moira had grilled him all night. He never joined us again.
“Isabel’s dad paid for everything, and it’s expensive. I don’t know about a room here, or even one in Bath.”
“I can handle it.”
I couldn’t reply. The idea of facing him . . . Facing them together . . . He couldn’t be coming for me . . . It had to be Isabel . . .
A clicking sound brought me back to the conversation.
“I found a flight for this evening that lands at Heathrow tomorrow morning. E-mail me anything I need to know and where to find you once I land.”
“Stop.” I sucked a huge breath. I wondered how long I’d been holding it without realizing it. There didn’t seem to be enough air in the room now to fill my lungs.
There are some guys who you just know if you fell for them you’d go too deep and never make it back.
Nathan could not come—I wouldn’t survive it.
“You can’t do this. I’ll tell her you called, and as soon as she can, she’ll call you back.”
“It’s done. Send me the e-mail. And, Mary?” Nathan paused. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
A knock on the door finally moved me. I had no idea how long I’d been lying there, stunned and numb.
At my fairly incoherent reply, Gertrude poked her head in. “I wanted to see if everything was okay.”
I struggled to sit up. My whole body felt beaten and heavy. “Everything is not okay.”
She sank beside me. She looped her arm around my shoulders and that’s all it took. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had held me like that; I couldn’t remember ever needing it. And I couldn’t help myself. I leaned into her and cried—sloppy, messy, once-upon-a-broken-heart cried. I felt her brush the hair from my forehead and tuck it behind my ear. She didn’t say a word.
After a few minutes I straightened my back and pressed the back of my hand under my nose. “I’m sorry. I hardly even know you.”
“Sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone. Other times, only a few minutes.” She gave me a last squeeze, then sat straight. I felt the loss of her support as she shifted on the edge of the bed to face me. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and handed it to me. “How is Isabel?”
I blew my nose. “This has happened before. The doctor will call me later, but as of now I’m to keep her safe and relaxed here. Do you mind? She’s clearly in her element here, and I doubt the others will notice. They think she’s playing at Emma. And she’s really good at that.”
The tears started again.
“You must stay. I just saw her downstairs with Sonia. She does seem content.” Gertrude tilted her head. “Which fits. For the most part, Emma was content.”
“I should get down there. I’m supposed to take care of her.” I pushed to stand, didn’t make it, and flopped back on the bed. “I just found out she’s been lying to me about something, something that was really important to me, and it hurts.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I feel bottomed out. That’s it. Bottomed out.” I flopped a hand toward the floor. “I’m squished down there and . . . How do you get up from that?” I sucked in maximum air again. “I should go. Isabel is meeting me in the Day Room and she’s my job right now. But once she’s well . . .” I forced myself to standing and smoothed my dress’s skirt. The hem almost met my soft kid leather boots. “I can’t do this, any of it, anymore.”
Tears started again, but this time they were slow, so slow I could feel each wind its way down my cheek. One. Two. Three.
Gertrude stood in front of me and held one hand to my cheek. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Promise?”
Gertrude nodded. I nodded. We looked like bobble heads. And although she didn’t know me, it felt as if she did, and I believed her.
I slid my phone into my pocket and we walked down the stairs in silence. With one last consoling nod, Gertrude left me outside the Day Room door. I decided not to confront Isabel. It would do no good. It could wait.
I pushed open the door, and my best intentions died at “There you are.” She leapt from the chair. “I’ve been waiting for you. Sonia had a lace right away. What have you been doing?”
“Nothing. Let’s go.” I turned and walked back down the hall and out the front door. The gravel shifted beneath my boots. I heard softer, faster crunches behind me before Isabel tugged at my arm.
“Slow down. I can’t keep up if you walk that fast.”
I stopped. My hands dropped to my sides.
Isabel kept her hand on me. I resisted the urge to shake her off. “Mary, what’s wrong? Why have you been crying?”
“I . . .” I pressed my palms against my eyes. I refused to cry in front of her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating Nathan Hillam? Last night you acted as if you didn’t remember him. You actually said you didn’t think much of him—from my description, not from meeting him. But you’ve been dating him. You gave him your number. You pursued him and you can’t tell me you didn’t. He just called. You’ve been listening to me and lying to me for over six months.”
“Who? Who is Nathan Hill—Hillsby?”
“Don’t do that.” I ground out the words, then stopped. Fear and something even more vulnerable shuddered through her.
It took a few breaths, but I calmed my voice. “Nathan Hillam. The consultant at WATT. The man you met last March. You call him TCG.” Isabel’s blank face drained my anger. I was too tired. “Don’t think about it. We’ll talk later. Let’s just walk and enjoy the day.” I started again at a slower pace.
“No.” Isabel clutched at me again. She pulled me to a stop so forcefully, I slipped on the pebbles. “I’m sorry, Mary. I’ve made you angry somehow and I’m very sorry. You must tell me.”
I tilted my head down the path. She walked with me.
“Let’s just walk,” I said. “Austen women walk. We can talk about it someday, but not now.”
We crossed from the drive to the path down to the stables and the stream.
“But if you don’t tell me, how can I make it right?”
Her words, her pleading tone, almost stopped me again. I concentrated on forward motion. “You can’t right now. I’m not so much angry as hurt. More hurt than you can possibly understand, but I’m also worried for you and that makes it all worse.”
I led us to the stables. Right or wrong, I hoped to leave her with Grant.
“Whatever I’ve done, Mary, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
I wiggled away. “Can we not talk about it anymore? I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Then I’ll wait.”
I felt my forward motion falter. When Isabel was in the wrong, and knew it, she asked for forgiveness, begged for it, and didn’t let up until it was granted. She badgered you until she felt better. She never waited for you to catch up.
I stared at her. “Thank you.”
Chapter 16
I’m so nervous. Do I look all right?” Isabel pirouetted around the bathroom in a soft pink gown, this one silk with intricate green beading sewn along the hem.
“You look beautiful.”