“Don’t call me that,” she said into the bedding without moving.
“May-the-fair-one.” Ambrose came and sat next to her on the bed. “You have to come down,” he said softly.
She rolled over, revealing wet eyes and a red nose, her hair a dark slice at her cheekbone. It was childish, he knew, but he noted that the necklace remained at her throat. He wondered, idly, if she’d bathed in it. A flash of her in the bath clad only in his jewel came to his mind so vividly, it was as if she had. “I’m a mess,” she said.
He reached in his pocket and handed her his handkerchief. “It’s clean.”
This made her smile, and she sat up among the pillows, wiping her eyes. “You’d give me a used one?” When she’d caught her breath she said, “I’ll claim headache.”
Ambrose nodded. “You can’t.”
“Doesn’t your being up here checking on me confirm everything?”
“Came upstairs to get my cigarettes. He’s yelling down the line to town.”
May walked into her dressing room and sat down behind her dressing table, fiddling with crystal pots and silver boxes.
“You must come down,” he said again, gently. “We have to.”
“I know,” she said with irritation, leaning forward to dab something under her eyes. Gaining composure, she said, “You saw him when I walked in. He already suspects.” Despite her efforts at cover-up, tears rolled down her face. “I can’t do this.” She ripped a tissue from the box at her elbow. “I made a mistake. You absolutely made a mistake. But I don’t cheat.” Ambrose checked himself from pointing out the obvious. They had both already cheated. “It’s all a hideous lie. And I’m not a liar.”
“Then we face it and undo it,” he said.
“Listen to yourself. I can’t just undo this. I’m married to him. I can’t switch brothers like musical chairs.”
Ambrose closed his eyes. May could be blunt. He knew this. “There’s a lot of history here. Things you don’t understand,” he said.
“I thought it would change. I thought when we got married there would be a feeling, I guess. I thought I’d forget. That it wouldn’t matter. That he and I could make something more.” He remained silent at this glimpse into her thinking. She was open, and he knew it was time to make his case.
“Did it never occur to you that he knew you’d feel indebted when he asked you to marry him? That he was playing on your sympathies?”
“I can’t believe you just said that.” She closed her eyes, as if in pain. “And yes, the thought had crossed my mind.” With a resigned exhale, she said, “You were gone for so long. Are you trying to say he doesn’t really love me?”
Ambrose was silent.
“I do love him, you know. I can never hurt him,” she said.
Ambrose’s throat shut down, hearing her say she loved another.
“But not the way I love you. Never the way I loved you.”
Relief washed over him. He gathered her up in his arms. “We have to be honorable. We can’t deceive him. It will hurt a bit, but in the long run it’s better. It’s best we tell him as soon as possible. It’s kinder. Sooner is better.”
“God, listen to you.”
“We’re going to hurt people. What else can we do?”
She took a deep breath.
“It’s time to be brave,” he continued. “I asked you to do that once, and you wouldn’t. It’s time to do that now.”
“I won’t be unfaithful.”
He kissed her, the scent of violets filling his head. “Then we won’t.” And those negatives were their beginning.
He took a deep breath. “We’ll leave.”
“Where will we go?”
“We’ll go west. Santa Barbara, maybe Hollywood.”
May slumped. Now that he’d said it, he couldn’t see her on the West Coast, either.
“Running away, that’s your solution to things, isn’t it?”
She could be biting. He’d learned this, too. But he released the sting of her comment. “You wanted to go away. I mean far away. We’ll leave and let things blow over.” May sat up a little straighter then. “A year or two at least. See every place you’ve ever wanted to see in Europe. Give everyone a chance to calm down, and then we’ll come back. They’ll have no choice but to accept us.”
“Like we’re on the lam or something?” she said.
“It’s a big world, May. Come get lost in it with me. Once everyone has calmed down, they’ll see how right we are for each other, how serious we are. No one will be able to deny us. After a while, it’ll be fact. Let’s do it right this time.”
“You have a plan?”
“I know where to go.”
“No one’s ever denied you anything, have they? That’s what it means to be the favorite son, I guess.”
“Ethan’s the favorite. Father disapproves of almost everything I do.”
“He loves you because you do all the shocking things he won’t.”
“Father doesn’t want to be like me.”
“But you always get your way,” she said, giving him a halfhearted shove.
“You should remember that. Now fix yourself up and come down before this becomes a scandal,” he said, pulling her up.
May wiped her eyes and headed for her bathroom. “Becomes a scandal?” she murmured.
THE GOLD IPHONE
Nell sent the auction house the journal entry, and they’d made the Moon of Nizam the centerpiece of the fall jewelry auction. They’d put the gem on the cover of the fancy catalog, overlaid on an image of Ambrose’s poem, which was being offered as part of the lot. The romance of it had attracted media interest. Unprecedented, the gleeful jewelry specialist told Nell after a New York Times interview. They’d tallied up more registered bidders than they’d ever had at one of these sales.
Nell had been concerned about the publicity, but after Louis made a few calls to the legal department on her behalf, he was satisfied that a sale would go through. They’d heard nothing from the government of India, and word from a trusted source at the embassy assured them that the Indian government wasn’t interested in stopping the sale. It was all too tenuous for Nell, but Louis told her not to question good fortune.
He’s been guiding her through the legalities of the estate. She’s needed his precise expertise. They’ve spent the last six months flying back and forth, under the pretense of estate business, but really stealing time together. They’d both let his proposal drop. It was a relief, but also a validation of her annoyance. He had been using it as a ploy, a manipulation to get her to stay that night and nothing more, or else why give up so easily? But she’ll give him a pass. She’s not looking to rekindle the offer and accept, so why reopen it?