A Lady Under Siege(88)
“You didn’t need to go running off,” he said. “We were just kissing each other. You kind of snuck up on us.”
Betsy said nothing.
“You need that knee cleaned up.”
She bent to examine the scrape. Without looking at him she said, “I thought grown-ups did it at night, in a bed—not daytime, downstairs where everyone can see.”
“That’s not what we were doing.”
“Why do people do it anyway? What’s the big deal?”
He was relieved that she didn’t sound angry, or hurt, but rather, annoyed. “You should be having this conversation with your mom, not me.”
“We’ve had it already. She told me how making love makes babies. And how people like to do it even when they don’t want babies.”
“Yeah, that’s right. The urge to do it is stronger than the real reason to do it. The urge to do it becomes the reason to do it.”
“It’s weird,” she said, shuddering a little. “I think it’s creepy.”
“People do lots of weird things that don’t make sense,” he replied. “Look, Betsy—life’s chock full of weird shit that’ll knock you for a loop, but when it does, you need to remember there are people that love you and have your back. Your mother loves you.”
“You love my mom.”
“I like her a lot. I like you too.”
“So what?”
“I don’t know so what. I’ll tell you something you probably don’t know about me. I had a kid once, and if she was alive she’d be your age, maybe a year older. So sometimes when I tell you things, they’re things I didn’t get a chance to tell her.”
Betsy was silent a moment. “Do I look like her?”
“No.”
On tiptoes she spun slowly around on the swing, winding herself up, making the chains twist and tighten above her head. Then she lifted her feet and let the chains spin her a little dizzy, one way and then the other, until they settled her to equilibrium again.
“Are you going to move into our house?”
“What? Why would I do that? Separate bedrooms, separate bathrooms, separate music collections, and yet right next door? It’s perfect as it is.”
“Here she comes,” Betsy said.
“Can I tell her we patched things up?”
“No.”
When Meghan reached them she was out of breath, and leaned on one of Derek’s chains for support. “I knew I’d find you here,” she said.
“We haven’t patched things up,” Betsy told her.
“Do you know how happy I am to see you?” Meghan asked, and then her body trembled, and she began to cry. Derek made no move to comfort her, thinking it better to leave it to Betsy. Reluctantly, the girl got off her swing and put her arms around her mother from behind.
“I’m not supposed to be hugging you,” she said. “I’m supposed to be mad at you.”
“Be anything, darling,” Meghan answered, wiping at her tears. She turned to face Betsy. “Just be what you want.”
“Derek had a daughter,” Betsy said.
“I know that.”
“Everybody knows everything but me.”
“That’s how it is when you’re ten,” Derek said. “I know it hurts, but really, it’s a blessing.”
“No it isn’t,” she said adamantly. “I want to know everything.”
45
As he did every morning, Thomas on waking and dressing went straightaway to Daphne’s bedchamber. He found her in good health and high spirits, looking out from her window with her maidservant Beth so as to catch a glimpse of the young men in martial training in the courtyard below. The wound in her arm where the surgeon used to bleed her daily had healed so well it no longer required a dressing, and without it there was nothing to indicate she was anything but a vibrant young girl. “Don’t you get any ideas about those boys,” he chided her. “There’s none worthy of you among that rabble. I’m going to find you a proper young nobleman, perhaps the son of a Duke or a Prince, or even a foreign King if you’re lucky.”
“But I want to marry for love, as you did with mother,” Daphne protested.
“Your mother and I married to cement a negotiated union of two families, two bloodlines,” Thomas corrected her. “We found love, after we were married, which is the greatest blessing God can give, and we were very grateful for it.”