The Last Dress from Paris(88)

More than anything, she wants to tell him she tried, so very hard, in the beginning. How she married him with every intention of loving him and letting him love her, but he wasn’t there, physically or emotionally. He wanted a business partner, not a wife. A representative, not a confidant. Another member of staff, never an equal. He never truly loved her. But she can’t. He doesn’t want to be contradicted. He won’t accept any blame. Her best hope of ending this is to try to establish what has fueled his latest outburst and reassure him that she can fix it, whatever it is.

“I’ve tried to give him up, I’ve tried to be discreet . . .” She barely has time to draw breath before Albert flies from the desk, across the small space between them, and shouts directly into her face, his nose clashing with hers, causing her to stumble backward.

“I’d hardly call getting pregnant being fucking discreet, would you!? How do you intend to conceal that!” He’s so close she can see the cracked dryness of his lips, the pockmarked skin across his nose and chin, and it’s repulsive. She lowers her arms across her belly, trying her best to force some distance between them, sobbing loudly now. If he wants to see he has broken her, he can. She shakes her head from side to side, trying to make sense of what he’s saying, how he can possibly know. She refuses to believe Anne has spoken to him. She was careful to give nothing away in the letter to Antoine, knowing there was a good chance it would be intercepted.

“Let me put you out of your misery. I can see you’re struggling to keep up with this. How do you think I felt this morning, when your doctor was putting on his coat to leave, then shook my hand and congratulated me on becoming a father? I haven’t been anywhere near you for months, so it didn’t take long to work that out.”

Alice’s mind races back to this morning. Recalling the pleasure on her doctor’s face, how keen he was to help keep their news under wraps until she and Albert were ready to go public. Why didn’t she think to caution him about any word to her husband until she had spoken to Albert first?

“Oh my God. I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d . . .”

“Well, he did. Because he has quite wrongly assumed we have a solid marriage. You’re so far out of your depth, Alice. You haven’t got the first fucking clue how to manage yourself, let alone a baby. So, what happens next will have to fall to me.”

“What do you mean?” Whatever comes out of Albert’s mouth next will not be up for discussion.

“You’re going to listen to me from now on. I’ve had all day to think about how I can salvage the mess you’ve created, how I can come out of this as unscathed as possible, and there is only one option. Because, believe me, I am not about to let the stupidity of others affect everything I have worked for. Not again. Not this time.” He steps back a little from her, and she can see the red stain of anger that’s bloomed from underneath his shirt collar, all the way up his neck and into his cheeks. But his demeanor is calmer. He’s not expecting any resistance from her now.

“If Madame du Parcq and I are right, your relationship with Antoine is all but over, so . . .”

Alice feels her breath shudder to a halt inside her, and she bites down hard on her bottom lip. If only she had spoken to Antoine this morning, he would be here with her now, drawing a line through whatever futile plan Albert thinks she will go along with.

“Let me guess, you haven’t heard from him today, correct?”

“What have you done?” Alice feels the strength returning to her voice, but she can’t hide the fear in her eyes, knowing Albert is right.

“It was very easy, once I found your silly little love letter. I called Madame du Parcq and played on her worst fears—that unless he walks away from you, her darling son will never have a respectable career in this city or any other, and the family will be ostracized. It helped of course that I was clever enough to have your goodbye kiss photographed. Well, if she was determined to cut between the two of you before, my goodness, she was indomitable during our call this morning, after your doctor unwittingly dropped his little bombshell. I suppose I should be thanking him, really. Antoine may be young and stupid, but he does at least know how indebted he is to his parents, financially and morally. Madame du Parcq knows her son better than anyone, and she has taken care of him because he is so incapable of doing it himself. Now, here’s what we are going to do.”

Alice can’t take it all in. Her mind is such a scramble of emotions and facts and panic, it’s impossible to separate one from the others. How much of this is bluster? How much of it is true? She knows Albert will say whatever is necessary to get the result he wants.

“Your relationship with him is over, and as long as you can accept that, then have the baby. You will raise it as our own. It will give you something to do with all the spare time you’ll now have. I will support you financially, but that’s as far as it goes. I want nothing to do with the child.”

“I . . . I need to speak to Antoine, I can’t just . . .” There is a building pain inside her head from trying to cut through everything he is throwing at her.

“Let me be very clear. I’m not offering you a choice, Alice. This is it. I can’t think there are many husbands who would be so generous. Now get out of my sight. I can’t bear to look at you for another minute.”



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