The Baby Scandal

by Valentine, Layla

  Her eyes fell and her lower lip quivered slightly.

  “I’ll leave tonight,” I said, desperate to undo the damage, desperate to see her smile. “You can get right to work tomorrow without worry.”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Thank you for that,” she said quietly. “I should go.”

  “Wait, Grace. Please.” I touched her arm and she didn’t pull away, though her shoulders tensed. I let my hand drop away from her, not wanting her to feel cornered. “I must tell you that Amelia isn’t as sweet as she seems. She is capable of great cruelty.”

  Grace met my eyes evenly. “Are you telling me that so that I won’t reveal your secret to her?”

  “Yes, but not only for my own sake. She will not hesitate to destroy you, Grace. Your reputation, your business, everything. She’s wholly capable of that.”

  Grace nodded, but her face was a mask.

  “Just be careful,” I said. “I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

  Grace flattened her mouth in a cold mockery of a smile. “Too late. Goodbye, Mr. Harris.”

  With that, she turned and walked away. My heart shattered in my chest, sending shards into my lungs until I could no longer breathe.

  I couldn’t say how long I stood there, but I had lost all feeling in my face by the time I stumbled to my car. It was too much. Her pain was too much. My own gilded cage began to close in on my consciousness, suffocating me.

  The worst of it was, I knew I deserved every bit of misery.

  Chapter 13

  Grace

  December 22

  I walked through the mansion, as astonished as I was pleased. When the decorating team had finally shown up the Monday after my ill-fated weekend with David, they had immediately proved their worth. Every room on the lower floor had been completed, along with the bedrooms and upstairs hallway. The last of the materials and scrap had been hauled away, and I had let my team go home. Now, finally alone in the house, I could truly appreciate how far we’d come.

  The foyer was bright and airy, a stunning contrast with the dark and peeling space I had first stepped into. The large living room was subtle, comfortable, and classy. I had replaced the grotesquely outdated furniture with classic pieces that paid homage to the era of the house without being too somber or heavy.

  The fireplace, being a natural centerpiece, had been refaced by a local mason in a shimmering golden-tan stone. That same stone had been used to retile the ballroom, so the living room became an enticing promise of the fun to be had in the room beyond.

  I moved into that room next. Amelia’s mind had changed half a dozen times, but eventually we had come to an agreement. Small benches and little tables ran around the edges of the room beneath candle sconces. The cherubs had been removed, leaving clean lines which drew the eye up to the domed ceiling. A thirty-foot Christmas tree stood in the center of the room, fully decorated for the upcoming festivities.

  The sound system in the room had been tucked discreetly away in the corners, and the stage had been decked out with subtle electrical hookups. The curved wall of windows looked out over the sloping front lawn which currently looked like a Christmas card, all snowy and tree-dotted with the Thames rippling away in the background. Sighing in satisfaction, I left the room and went to the gallery.

  This area was my favorite project, and it had turned out exactly the way I had envisioned it. From the end, it created the impression that spring was poised ready to sweep the snow away. The green wall had turned out perfectly. I had to admit, with a twinge of melancholy regret, that David’s color choices had been perfect.

  I walked the length of it then turned the corner at the back of the house, passing the untouched service rooms on my way to the kitchen. It had been updated gently, as it had been one of the few rooms in the house which was practically perfect just the way I had found it. Only the cherubs on the ceiling had been painted away. Amelia really did have a grudge against the cute little angels.

  Still, the powder-blue suited the room, especially now that the backsplash was a homey rosebud-dotted cream. The original butcher-block countertops had been used as inspiration for the rest of the room, unchanged apart from some sanding and polishing.

  I ran my fingers over the countertop, recalling my impromptu dinner with the only decorator who showed. I forced a stern frown through my dreamy smile. Yes, it had been a fun adventure. But it was never real.

  I passed through the butler’s pantry to the dining room. Amelia had set her mind to making this room match her penthouse in New York, and I had done my best to meet her requests without turning the room into something dark and foreboding. A twelve-inch strip of creamy white around the top of the wall over light-colored crown molding opened the space a bit, and I had kept the dark reds and browns as low to the ground as possible.

  The end result was satisfactory, though I was certain that anyone who ate in this room would be craving dessert before the first course and wouldn’t quite know why. The heavy red curtains, lined with white faux fur, created a stark visual boundary between the outdoors and the room itself, which had been the very thing I had wanted to avoid. I had to admit that it worked with the rest of the room, but I couldn’t help but think how differently I would have done it.

  The library remained virtually untouched. We had finished the walls around the top of the bookcases and refinished the floors. I had arranged a desk, puzzle table, two reading areas, and a centralized seating area with couches and coffee table in the previously furniture-free room, which made the space seem friendlier and cozier than it had before. Luscious rugs broke up the floor space into mini-rooms, making the place even cozier. I hoped the room would get some company once in a while. It deserved it.

  I checked the various parlors and powder rooms briefly. I’d made them match one another in subtle springtime colors and nondescript furniture, a deliberate contrast to the more luxurious rooms on this floor. They looked clean and fresh and welcoming, which was all I had asked of them. My last stop was the most difficult for me. Not professionally; that part had been easy. Personally, it had ripped my heart out and stomped on it.

  David’s office had been restored to its former glory. Rich rugs had replaced the ugly green carpet, and the bookshelves had been stripped of their paint and refinished properly. Genuine period pieces replaced the modern furniture, and a few paintings decorated the freshly painted walls. Through the secret door, everything was as close to original as possible. The safe and the bar had been refinished rather than replaced, giving the whole room a museum-type air.

  I took a moment in that little hidden room to embrace my sadness. I had been so happy with Dan the decorator. The fact that he had turned into David the liar couldn’t quite wash away the feelings I had developed over those two days. I missed him more than I had any right to, and I felt terrible about it.

  I closed up the room and stepped through to the hallway, closing that door as well. It felt symbolic, as though I was sealing those two days in the past, never to be thought of again. I heard the front door open from down the hall and straightened my shoulders. Time to shine.

  Chapter 14

  Grace

  “Oh darling, it’s beautiful! Positively astonishing. That tree! How on earth did you get that in here? Oh never mind, it’s glorious! Every room is perfect. I didn’t expect anything less of you, but I must say, dear, you outdid yourself.” Amelia clasped her hands and beamed up at the tree.

  “I’m so glad you like it,” I said with a grin.

  “Has the upstairs been finished?” she asked, her eyes shining.

  “It has. My team wanted to spend the holiday with their families, so they worked extra fast to get everything done in time. Would you like to see?”

  “Oh, yes!”

  We walked together up the grand staircase which had been meticulously returned to its former un-scuffed glory. The main hallway upstairs had been painted in alternating blocks of powder blue and nature stencils, breaking up the space so as t
o mitigate the overwhelming length of it.

  Amelia ran her fingers over the wall. She was positively glowing, and it almost made me feel better. Almost. After all, offering a woman the house of her dreams couldn’t quite make up for being her husband’s mistress.

  I didn’t know, I thought desperately. Stop thinking about it before she notices that something’s wrong.

  It was so difficult. I wanted to come clean right there and then, but I knew it was more for my sake than hers. She couldn’t be hurt if she didn’t know, and since it was never going to happen again, telling her would do nothing but put balm on my own guilt and transfer my heartache to her.

  “This is so cozy! I believe I’ll be spending much more time at this house in the future. Oh, I love the gilding on my door.” She pushed it open and went inside.

  Her bedroom had been done exactly to her specifications. It was all silk and faux fur, fluffy and silky in turn from the skirt on her vanity stool to the rug and draperies. At her request, the canopy bed which had lorded over the room before had been swapped out for a sleek modern bed which sat low to the ground.

  Animal prints made an appearance here and there, and the dark reds and browns which she preferred wrapped the room, making it feel smaller and warmer than it actually was. It worked in a bedroom far better than it had worked downstairs, and I was pleased with the effect.

  “Oh, this is wonderful! I adore it, Grace. All of it, everything you’ve done. You truly are the best in the business. Would you have dinner with me and my husband tonight? I feel like celebrating.”

  My heart lurched. My gut instinct was to firmly decline; how could I manage being caught between husband and wife for a whole dinner? All it would take was one look from those deep blue eyes and I would fall to pieces. I’d start babbling and give myself away and ruin everything.

  But she was beaming at me expectantly. The last thing I wanted to do was disappoint her. She knew when my flight was, which meant that I didn’t have an excuse handy. Besides, wouldn’t declining be just as suspicious as babbling at the dinner table? God I cannot wait to go home!

  Home. With a shock, I realized that this would likely be my last chance to ever see David. Her presence would be a shield for me, and I could get the closure I knew I needed.

  “Certainly,” I said, smiling just a heartbeat too late to be natural. “Here at the house?”

  “Yes, at seven. That dining room should be broken in properly, don’t you agree? Oh, I am too thrilled. My friends are all going to be green with envy!”

  “I’m very glad you’re pleased with it.” My voice sounded weak in my own ears. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough to assuage the guilt, and the friendlier she was to me the harder it was to hold my tongue.

  “Thrilled, darling, thrilled. I’ll be sure to give your name to all of my friends. Just as soon as I’m sure I won’t want you for anything else, of course. Oh, Grace, people will be fighting over you before long. This is so wonderful!”

  I smiled, swallowing hard against the confession which pressed against my tongue. It will never happen again. That’s the best I can do.

  We parted ways a little while later, after she had gushed some more about how much she adored the house. She didn’t mention the gallery, but I hadn’t really expected her to. It had never been her favorite room. I suspected that I could have painted it a garish purple with pink polka-dots and she wouldn’t have cared. I knew that David would be pleased with the result, though, and that was enough for me.

  * * *

  I returned to my hotel room for a shower and a change of clothes, but every outfit I chose felt wrong: too sexy, too conservative, too frumpy, too casual. I had brought mostly working clothes with me, not expecting to do a whole lot of socializing during my stay. Wanting to feel completely prepared for the evening, I ran to the shop next door and bought something new.

  “It’s only fair to treat myself, after all,” I said to myself as I flipped through a rack of dresses. “Accomplishing the impossible deserves a reward.”

  I chose a blue sweater dress which would contrast stunningly with the colors of the dining room. It was cut below the knee and had a shoulder-to-shoulder collar, which was attractive without being sexy. I found a pair of thick tights to go with it and treated myself to a pair of new boots, then hurried back to my room. I was running late, but it was going to be worth it.

  Clothing would be my armor. If I could just get through this dinner without spilling everything or crying, everything would be okay. I was going to make it home in time for Christmas and I could put this whole mess—and all of my feelings—behind me.

  I kept myself so busy with getting ready that I didn’t have time to get nervous until I was in the cab heading toward the house. For the first time since I’d arrived in London, I wished the cabbie was talkative. This one wasn’t, and all of my attempts at small talk were met with grunts. Sighing, I settled back in my seat and twisted my fingers together.

  When we turned up the drive, I almost asked the cabbie to take me back to the hotel. I wanted to see David, but not in this context. I wanted to celebrate my win, but not under this cloud of guilt. I silently argued with myself about it until the point was moot, then paid the cab driver and went up to the door. I almost let myself in but then, recognizing that I was a guest this evening, I rang the bell.

  To my simultaneous elation and dismay, David answered.

  “Welcome, come in,” he said. “Amelia isn’t here yet.”

  “Oh… Am I early?” I stepped inside hesitantly.

  He glanced at his watch as he closed the door behind me. “Not at all, you’re right on time. She probably got caught up with something. I’m sure she’ll be here soon. Would you like a drink while we wait?”

  I did, desperately. My anxiety was mounting by the moment, as was my desire to fall into his arms. A drink would have solved the former but made the latter irresistible. I could only imagine Amelia’s reaction if she were to walk in mid-embrace. I shook my head.

  “No, thank you. Um…how have you been?”

  He smiled softly as his brow furrowed, giving him a lost puppy sort of expression. I looked away before the urge to kiss it all better became overwhelming.

  “Busy,” he said. “Business is booming in spite of the weather. But everything is on hold until the middle of next month due to the holidays now.”

  A tense, awkward silence fell. I had so many questions and things I wanted to say, but none of them seemed appropriate in the setting. I wished Amelia would show up already to give us something else to talk about.

  “Would you like to sit down?” he asked finally, gesturing toward the living room.

  “Not in there,” I said. There were memories in there, and I knew if I got near them with him, it would only confuse my emotions further.

  “In the dining room, then? We can wait for her there.”

  “Sure, that would be fine.”

  He took my coat, which reminded me of the day at my hotel room. I was beginning to wonder if there was anything in the world that wouldn’t remind me of him. Somehow, I doubted it. His presence had been a constant companion in my mind for weeks, no matter how much I tried to sublimate my emotions in my work. I wanted to hate him for being so likable, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

  The dining room seemed oppressively dark at night. I had done everything I could to brighten the space within the confines of her requirements, but there had only been so much I could do. It was a solemn space, compounding my own internal melancholy.

  We sat across from one another at the empty table, leaving the head chair empty for the absent hostess. Without food or drink to occupy my hands and with only heavy questions weighing on my mind, I grew increasingly aware of him. He looked a little thinner than usual, a little more stressed than he had looked before. It made me want to hold him, which was exactly what I couldn’t do.

  Minutes passed slowly in the silence. After a while, David pulled his phone out of his pocket with a
frown and sent a text. He smiled tightly at me as he waited for an answer. Eventually it came. His frown deepened for a moment, then cleared completely.

  “It seems Amelia has found a better offer for her entertainment this evening,” he said drily.

  “Wait…she’s not coming?”

  “She is not. She sends wishes for us to have a good time.”

  I blushed at that. If she only knew how good a time he and I already had, she wouldn’t have been so cavalier about leaving us alone. The atmosphere in the mansion seemed suddenly oppressive, which was only compounded by the dark severity of the dining room.

  “Still, there’s no reason we should go hungry,” he said thoughtfully. “Though I very much doubt she took the time to stock the kitchen. May I take you to dinner?”

  Shamefully, my heart leaped at the thought. I agreed quickly before I could talk myself out of it, and he seemed as happy about the prospect as I was. This is dangerous territory, I warned myself. Legally, he belongs to her.

  Unfortunately, my heart didn’t seem to take much stock in legalities.

  Chapter 15

  Grace

  He took me to a lovely, dark little place with candles and checkered table cloths, where the wait staff spoke quietly and the whole atmosphere was one of discretion. Romance and mystery were thick in the air, and it made my heart pound with excitement. I told myself that it was only dinner, but on no level did I believe that.

  We made small talk about the weather and business, the various rooms of the house, and the pleasant surprise of finding competent contractors. I could see that he was dancing around the topic of us. I was doing the same.

  Pressure began building in my chest, threatening to explode in the quiet restaurant. I swallowed it again and again, but I wouldn’t be able to keep that up forever, and I wasn’t willing to let the night end before speaking my mind.