difference between being professional and being driven to the point that everything else runs second.”
She sounded so aggrieved that, if he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she actually believed the rubbish she was spouting. Steeling himself not to soften, he said, “I could argue the point, but let’s not go down that road, at least not right now. Instead tell me why you’re so eager and willing to help a child you previously refused to acknowledge.”
“I already explained I didn’t know Poppy existed until your phone call last Tuesday.”
“You don’t seriously expect me to believe that, do you?”
A flush accentuated those classic cheekbones. “I don’t care whether you believe me or not,” she said, her eyes shooting icy, pale-blue sparks. “I’m telling you that the last time I spoke to Cecily was right after you married her. It was also, you might recall, the last time I spoke to you, as well—until the other day. And I have no reason to lie.”
“Are you saying you didn’t even know your sister was pregnant?”
“That’s right. Apart from the lawyer’s letter telling me she’d died, I knew nothing about her life with you. You were hardly forthcoming, after all. Even at her funeral, we didn’t exchange more than the barest civilities. And contrary to what other twins might experience, Cecily and I didn’t share telepathic communication.”
He cradled his wineglass and regarded her thoughtfully. “In a sick sort of way, I suppose that makes sense. Cecily didn’t broadcast the news that she was expecting. In fact,” he finished bitterly, “she didn’t deal well with pregnancy at all.”
Picking up on his black tone, she said, “What do you mean?”
“She tried to terminate it at twenty weeks.”
“No!” Again he’d caught her off guard. Her flush drained into shocked pallor. “For heaven’s sake, why?”
“She didn’t like what it was doing to the shrine that was her precious body,” he spat, the acrid taste of disgust lingering in his mouth.
“Oh.” She dampened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. “What changed her mind?”
“I did,” he said, reliving the scene in all its ugly detail. “Very emphatically.”
You can’t make me go through with it. Yes, I can, Cecily. And I will. How? By keeping me under lock and key for the next five months? Appointing that benighted housekeeper of yours my prison guard? If I have to, yes. You don’t have the right. It’s my body, not yours. But it’s my child. I hate you, Dimitrios ! I’ll survive—and so will that baby…. Brianna cleared her throat. “Do you think,” she began tentatively, “her trying to, um, bring on a miscarriage, is in any way responsible for Poppy being so ill now?”
“I’ve asked myself the same question a thousand times, and I’m told by those who ought to know that the two aren’t related, but…” He shook his head, the doubts still plaguing him. “I should have kept a closer eye on Cecily. Monitored where she was going, who she was seeing. Made sure she didn’t drink alcohol or worse yet, dabble in recreational drugs.”
Reaching across the table, Brianna put a sympathetic hand over his, and this time he was the one taken by surprise. Up to that point, he’d initiated all physical contact between them, and, fragile though her overture was, he liked it. He liked it very much. And that was something he had to guard against.
“Don’t,” she said. “This was not your fault, Dimitrios . Do not blame yourself for Cecily’s bad behavior.”
“How do you know it wasn’t my bad behavior that drove her to such extremes?”
“Because I knew Cecily. Better than you did, probably. We lived together for almost twenty-four years, remember, and it doesn’t surprise me one iota that losing her figure struck her as a disaster on a par with the sinking of the Titanic. She was always very…” She shrugged, searching for the right word.
“Vain?”
“Conscious of her
She sounded so aggrieved that, if he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she actually believed the rubbish she was spouting. Steeling himself not to soften, he said, “I could argue the point, but let’s not go down that road, at least not right now. Instead tell me why you’re so eager and willing to help a child you previously refused to acknowledge.”
“I already explained I didn’t know Poppy existed until your phone call last Tuesday.”
“You don’t seriously expect me to believe that, do you?”
A flush accentuated those classic cheekbones. “I don’t care whether you believe me or not,” she said, her eyes shooting icy, pale-blue sparks. “I’m telling you that the last time I spoke to Cecily was right after you married her. It was also, you might recall, the last time I spoke to you, as well—until the other day. And I have no reason to lie.”
“Are you saying you didn’t even know your sister was pregnant?”
“That’s right. Apart from the lawyer’s letter telling me she’d died, I knew nothing about her life with you. You were hardly forthcoming, after all. Even at her funeral, we didn’t exchange more than the barest civilities. And contrary to what other twins might experience, Cecily and I didn’t share telepathic communication.”
He cradled his wineglass and regarded her thoughtfully. “In a sick sort of way, I suppose that makes sense. Cecily didn’t broadcast the news that she was expecting. In fact,” he finished bitterly, “she didn’t deal well with pregnancy at all.”
Picking up on his black tone, she said, “What do you mean?”
“She tried to terminate it at twenty weeks.”
“No!” Again he’d caught her off guard. Her flush drained into shocked pallor. “For heaven’s sake, why?”
“She didn’t like what it was doing to the shrine that was her precious body,” he spat, the acrid taste of disgust lingering in his mouth.
“Oh.” She dampened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. “What changed her mind?”
“I did,” he said, reliving the scene in all its ugly detail. “Very emphatically.”
You can’t make me go through with it. Yes, I can, Cecily. And I will. How? By keeping me under lock and key for the next five months? Appointing that benighted housekeeper of yours my prison guard? If I have to, yes. You don’t have the right. It’s my body, not yours. But it’s my child. I hate you, Dimitrios ! I’ll survive—and so will that baby…. Brianna cleared her throat. “Do you think,” she began tentatively, “her trying to, um, bring on a miscarriage, is in any way responsible for Poppy being so ill now?”
“I’ve asked myself the same question a thousand times, and I’m told by those who ought to know that the two aren’t related, but…” He shook his head, the doubts still plaguing him. “I should have kept a closer eye on Cecily. Monitored where she was going, who she was seeing. Made sure she didn’t drink alcohol or worse yet, dabble in recreational drugs.”
Reaching across the table, Brianna put a sympathetic hand over his, and this time he was the one taken by surprise. Up to that point, he’d initiated all physical contact between them, and, fragile though her overture was, he liked it. He liked it very much. And that was something he had to guard against.
“Don’t,” she said. “This was not your fault, Dimitrios . Do not blame yourself for Cecily’s bad behavior.”
“How do you know it wasn’t my bad behavior that drove her to such extremes?”
“Because I knew Cecily. Better than you did, probably. We lived together for almost twenty-four years, remember, and it doesn’t surprise me one iota that losing her figure struck her as a disaster on a par with the sinking of the Titanic. She was always very…” She shrugged, searching for the right word.
“Vain?”
“Conscious of her
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