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“I would never accept charity from anyone, especially not your brother.” He ground his teeth but forced himself to follow her towards the exit. “Not a loan either, so don’t even suggest it. I’ll have plenty of money soon enough.” He filled his lungs with the warm, calming breeze. “And, as for the rest, you’re right, I don’t speak of it much because there’s not much to say. My family is fine and happy where they are and I’m better off here. There’s no animosity.”
Not a complete lie.
“A lovely non-answer. Yet you’re going to scrounge around in that blasted file and act like I’m a ninny every time I object.” She stuck her nose in the air with a disdainful sniff.
She had him there. Though damned if he’d ever tell her. Any of it. He certainly didn’t need her thinking less of him and his family. Not that her opinion mattered, per se. She wasn’t clever. Just amusing and witty and fun to read. He trotted along so he could exit the train first, to help her down the stairs. “No one is trying to kill me.”
“Which is rather surprising given how stubborn you are.” She reached out a gloved hand, which he accepted. Oy. Why did his body tingle at her mere touch? Her mere gloved touch.
“Says the woman who listens to no one. What time were you supposed to be ready?” He guided her down the steps and onto the sunshine-washed platform.
“Cosmetics take patience and precision. As does accessorizing. Besides, I don’t recall a specific time being mentioned this morning.” She swished in front of him, her bottom swaying from side to side like the metronome in the Truitt music room. Not that he was really watching her bottom; the bustle just made it impossible to miss.
He bit down on his back teeth. Hard. “Regardless, we need to go. You’re going to make other people late.”
“Fine.” Another sniff. Dismissive, not disdainful this time.
David held out his arm and she tucked hers inside his, linking the two. Perfectly. Naturally. Her skirts swept at his ankles and they glided together, in unison, as if they were on a Sunday stroll instead of headed to visit the man she’d chosen over him.
Chapter Six
Nothing was more awkward than having tea with your ex-husband and ex...whatever David was. Especially when you wanted money from the former and for the latter to want to tear off your clothes. Not do the actual ripping—the gown was flawless—just to have the urge.
Which he most certainly did not. And not only because he’d been the one to put them on in the first place.
Ugh, why not? Even if she couldn’t engage for her own sanity, why couldn’t he just find her attractive again? Just as a small boost to her confidence?
Amalia stroked the handle of her valise, David’s letters burned through the leather. The ones she’d saved because she was an idiot. As much as she’d accomplished, a part of her yearned to be the girl she was before...everything.
What happened to that boldness? That curiosity? That hunger? The passion? Maybe that was why her writing was off as of late. Maybe she’d lost it all to the stress of age and failure.
Behind her teacup, she bit her lip. The man now sitting next to her, arms crossed tight over his dusty coat, wasn’t that boy either, despite their similar appearances. Unfortunate, because that kind disposition would be quite useful in the present as David’s sour expression wasn’t improving matters.
The three sampled cucumber and butter sandwiches as well as salmon and dill, along with several sweets and a full-bodied tea in silence. Well, almost silence. There was some slurping and nibbling. And a few murmurs.
Finally, the man of the house—rather, the son of the man of the house, ceased his chewing. Ethan dabbed his mouth with his napkin before setting it on the table. “So, is there an issue with the documents? We are divorced, are we not? It went through. You said you knew how to do this and I didn’t have to worry and anything. You promised.”
Really? He was whining. Already? At least Ethan whined in a charming, melodious, elegant way. Because her first husband was nothing if not charming. But whining was still whining. Expected though, as there was a chance, in his mind, he’d have to do actual labor.
She folded and unfolded her hands in her lap, struggling to keep calm and not appear the least bit—what else did he call her after the sheen on their relationship wore off? Oh yes, high-strung. Only a small step up from vapid, vacuous, and verbose. “I promise you the decree wasn’t forged. We’re divorced. Besides, you obtained the Get—the religious divorce. If there’s anything wrong with that it’s your fault.”
But there wasn’t. It was over. Terminated. Finished. Which was for the best. The marriage should never have occurred in the first place. And wouldn’t have if Ethan hadn’t fit her description so well. And hadn’t been available on short notice. Her stomach clenched.
“Thank god.” Ethan had the decency to appear chagrined the moment the words left his mouth. He dabbed a nonexistent spot with his napkin. “Sorry. But I mean...”
“I know.” She giggled. She couldn’t help it—it really was a relief. David shifted in the seat next to her. He adjusted his spectacles as if he was working to obtain a better view of Ethan.
“Interesting response.” David scooted forward in his seat. “Why is it so important? Is there a reason you’d like to make sure your ex-wife is no longer part of your life?”
What was he doing? He was supposed to be protecting her, not interrogating people. Also, if that was his interrogation technique, it could really use some finesse. It was only one step up from: “Do you want your ex-wife dead?”
“I suspect my new wife wouldn’t like me being married to my former.” Ethan tugged at his collar before lifting his head to give them both that full-toothed smile. “Especially given there’s a baby on the way.”
Amalia heaved a deep breath. Damned corset. She could never get enough air in the thing. She perhaps should’ve had fewer sandwiches. Or not made David tie her so tight. Or had all her dresses let out.
“Don’t be sore, Amalia. It’s not m
y fault my second marriage worked out and yours didn’t.” Ethan leaned on his elbow. “Especially when you’re still wearing my jewels.”
