“Speaking of babies, how’s Danny?” Edlyn leaned forward. “How are you two getting on?”
“He’s great. Everything’s...great.” Jayne smiled, but she couldn’t meet Edlyn’s eyes.
“Uh-oh. What’s he done?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “Or...it’s more what he hasn’t done. There was this reporter at the science museum, and she was pelting us with questions—”
“Oh, that’s the worst.” Raina dropped her baklava on her plate. “They followed us everywhere, when Chadil and I were courting. The staff reporters are okay, the ones from the big papers, but the freelancers are a nightmare. They’ll cross the line, loop back round, and cross it again.”
“That’s exactly what happened. She was awful, wouldn’t leave us alone, and the things she said—” Jayne sipped her tea, not wanting to elaborate. “Anyway, we talked about it after. I thought Danny was opening up, finally, but there’s this thing he does...”
Edlyn snorted. “You mean when he feeds you some tidbit and you think you’re getting somewhere, then he plays it off as a joke?”
“Yeah. That, exactly. Why does he do that?”
“That’s a little bit my fault.” Edlyn looked away, her smile fading. It was strange to see her frown, strange to see her anything but cheerful, and Jayne felt a twinge of alarm.
“Are you okay?”
“I am. But I’m not so sure about Danny.” She smoothed out her skirt, composing herself. “He wasn’t always like that. But I had my fall, and our parents got scared, and Danny couldn’t take it. The more they tried to protect him, the more he’d push the limits—skateboard tricks, climbing trees—he even set up a tightrope between the stables and the wall. If Father hadn’t caught him...” She shuddered. “The attitude came with that. I thought it was him being strong for me, acting like nothing could hurt him, but I’m fine now. He knows that.”
“Maybe not.” Jayne reddened as everyone turned to look at her. “I mean, he still worries about you. And he blames himself.”
“Excuse me?” Edlyn’s expression hardened. “He does what, now?”
“He blames himself. For not being there, for not finding you, for—”
“I ditched him on purpose.” She pushed back from the table, brows drawing together. “He wanted to swim. I had a better idea. I told him to change and I gave him the slip. He knows that. He’s always known.”
“Bas blames himself too,” said Fiona. “I’ve told him a hundred times kids get distracted, but it never sinks in.”
“And Chadil?” Edlyn turned to Raina. “Tell me he’s smarter than this.”
“I’m sorry. He’s the same.” Raina lowered her eyes. “He was the one rushing Bas to the football game.”
“Oh, you cannot be serious. Those idiots—” Edlyn huffed. “I’m putting a stop to this once and for all.”
“What are you going to do?” Fiona looked worried, but Edlyn waved a maid over.
“Would you mind fetching my brothers? And tell them it’s urgent. No dawdling. No excuses.”
“I’m sorry,” said Jayne. “I didn’t mean to open a whole can of worms.”
“Clearly it’s been open.” Edlyn rolled her wheelchair to the window and looked out. “I thought I’d snapped Bas out of it, at least, but all three of them? All this time?” She chuckled, disbelieving. “Men. They’re so dramatic. When will they realize the world doesn’t revolve around them? Things happen. People do things. They’re not—”
“You called?” Bas poked his head in, followed by Danny and Chadil. Edlyn turned to face them.
“That was quick.”
“We were just in the garden. What’s wrong?”
“I have a question for all of you,” said Edlyn. She wheeled herself forward, staring them down all the way. “Who was to blame for my fall?”
Bas glanced at Chadil. Chadil looked at his feet. Danny turned bright red, but he met his sister’s eye.
“I knew you were up to something,” he said. “I was going to tell on you, but I—”
“No.” Chadil raised his head. “I was bugging Bas all morning. He’d never have—”
“You two are ridiculous. I left the stall open. I let it happen. If anyone’s responsible—”
“You’re all ridiculous.” Edlyn cut in, so loud and so sharp even Bas fell silent. She looked up at her brothers, eyes full of hurt. “Do you three have any idea how infuriating it is, being treated like an infant well into adulthood?”
Bas stiffened, as though stung. “That’s not fair. We don’t—”
“You do, though.” She advanced on them, seething. “When you blame yourselves, you’re saying I’m too stupid, too frail, to be responsible for my own actions. You want to know what happened that day?” She jabbed her finger at Danny. “You were driving me crazy, so I tricked you, same as always.” She turned to Chadil. “And you. You were getting ready for the game. You had nothing to do with it. As for you...” She took Bas’s hand and held it tight. “I’m sorry. What I did wasn’t fair to you. I understand how you feel. But you made a mistake. I saw your mistake, and instead of correcting it, I took advantage. I knew it was wrong. I knew it was dangerous. You have to stop taking that on yourself.”
“Edlyn...” Bas pursed his lips. Edlyn tugged at his hand.
“Bas. I need you to hear this.” She looked up at him, pleading. “The fall hurt, but this is so much worse. You treat me like I’m fragile. Like I can’t do anything for myself. You leave me out of everything, even when I’m fully capable. I’m an adult, and you treat me like a child. It has to stop.”
“Then I’m sorry too,” said Bas. “All our arguments over the years—I should’ve listened better.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Though I’m still your big brother. I can’t promise I’ll never be overprotective.”
“Especially when it’s your turn to court.” Chadil puffed out his chest. “I’ll be all over your suitors, just you wait.”
“Danny?” Edlyn reached for him, but he turned away. “Danny. You know me best. You have to understand.”
Jayne glanced at him, and her heart sank. He had that trapped look again, the same one he got before he blew her off with a joke or a flirt. She shouldn’t have said anything, but she’d assumed Edlyn knew. She’d assumed they’d all talked about it, that it wouldn’t be news.
Danny blinked, as though coming to his senses. His lips moved, but no words came out.
“Danny. Please.”
He turned to Jayne, and their eyes met. She saw hurt there, anger and accusation, and she rose without thinking, bumping her knee on the table.
“Danny.” Edlyn snapped her fingers.
Danny turned and stalked out of the room.
13
She’d betrayed him.
He’d opened his home to her, opened his heart, and she’d thrown it in his face. She’d gone running to Edlyn, exposed his deepest shame, and now Edlyn was mad at him. Jayne had done that, ruined the one relationship he could count on. She’d come between him and his sister, and—
—and that wasn’t true.
He stopped on the terrace and sank down on a bench. Jayne wasn’t the gossiping type. If she’d let something slip, she’d done it with the best of intentions. And maybe she wasn’t the blabbermouth. Edlyn hadn’t yelled just at him. She’d gone for Bas and Chadil too, which meant anyone could’ve started it.
He buried his face in his hands. He wasn’t ready to look for Jayne, wasn’t sure he wanted to. Whatever he did, he’d just end up hurting her. Edlyn was right: he did know her best, and he hadn’t understood. He hadn’t noticed her pain, and one day he’d miss Jayne’s. He’d hurt her without knowing it, maybe Noah too.
“I never knew you felt that way.” Bas sat down beside him, crossing his arms over his chest. “How could you blame yourself? You were only a kid.”
“So were you. And she’s just as mad at you.” Danny hung his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“She was right, though.�
� He squeezed Danny’s shoulder. “If we’d all sat down sooner, talked this thing out..."
"Maybe." Danny looked away. The wind had picked up, and the rosebushes were swaying, loose petals swirling down the path. He shivered, though it wasn’t cold, and Bas patted him again.
"Don’t you think you and Jayne—”
“That’s different,” said Danny. “This is a family matter. She’s just stuck in the middle. Leave it alone.”
“Okay. But she’s looking for you.” Bas sighed, deep and weary. “She’s going to find you sooner or later, and if experience has taught me anything, it’s that people want to love you. They want to help you. But they can’t if you keep shutting them out.”
“I don’t need help. I can leap tall buildings in a single bound.” Danny winced at his own joke, but Bas only laughed. He got up and left, and the wind died down. Footsteps crunched in the gravel, and Danny didn’t have to look up to know they were Jayne’s.
“Are you okay?” She moved closer but didn’t sit down. There was a tension around her eyes that hadn’t been there before, the hint of a frown on her lips. “Danny?”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“Yeah? Well, maybe I’m not.” Jayne went to the railing and stood admiring the garden. She looked tired, he noticed, the slump of her shoulders, the tilt of her head. “It feels like we’re fighting sometimes—like I’m trying to get to know you, but I’m hurting you instead. Like I’m picking at scabs I don’t even know you have.”
“You’re not.” The words came out harsh, and he cleared his throat. “I mean, I’m fine. We’re not fighting. I have my own ways of dealing with things. Like a wise man, you know? I go up a mountain, come down with the answer. It’s a process.” He laughed, but Jayne didn’t join him.
“Some of those things affect both of us. You can’t go off by yourself and just...don’t you think it’d be easier together?”
“Not for me.”
Jayne’s breath hitched at that, a little gasp. Her knuckles went white on the railing. “And what about me?” She still didn’t look at him, but her tone said it all. Four little words and a tremor in her voice, and he’d blown it again. He opened his mouth and made it worse.
“This isn’t about you.”
“Oh, it’s not?” She spun to face him. “Don’t tell me it’s not about me when I’m the one standing here trying to know you, trying to be here for you. It’s like nailing water to the wall.” Her eyes glistened and he saw it, that look he’d seen in Edlyn’s eyes, and his brothers’, and the dean’s. “I came halfway around the world for you, and maybe it was impulsive, but I’ve been trying to make it work. I like you. I care for you. But the truth is, I don’t know you. You won’t let me.”
“It takes time to get to know someone. We’ve just met.” Danny stood, intending to end the conversation, but his mouth kept on running. “You’re pushing too hard. Expecting too much.”
“And you’re offering too little.” Jayne sat down at last, with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight. I just need you to meet me halfway. You’ve shared your past, and that means the world to me, but I need you to be straight with me. I need to know who you are. Who I am to you. If we have something worth fighting for, or if...”
“I told you about Edlyn, and look how that ended up.” He shut his mouth with a snap, but the words were out. Jayne shook her head.
“Edlyn loves you,” she said. “She wanted what I want: to get everything in the open and make it better. Like with my ex—if he’d told me before the wedding, if he’d come to me with the truth—I’d have been heartbroken, but I’d have understood. I’d have moved on. I can’t do that again. I can’t be with a man who doesn’t trust me with the truth.”
“Then—then that’s your decision.” Danny stood up abruptly. His chest felt tight, like all the oxygen had gone out of the atmosphere. “If you can’t take me as I am, if you need everything to be perfect right this second, maybe—”
“What?”
Danny’s mouth went dry. He’d been about to say something he didn’t mean, maybe something he couldn’t take back. A chill ran down his spine as laughter echoed down the hall, someone approaching from the cloisters. He had to get out of here, away from this mess.
“Maybe we both have a lot to think about,” he said, and for the second time that afternoon, he ran away.
14
Jayne sat by the duck pond, looking up at the stars. They shone dimly, a little blurry through the glass roof of the aviary, but she didn’t mind. It was quiet out here, peaceful. A good place to think.
Her head felt clearer, away from the palace. She’d bumbled through the afternoon in a daze, eating half Noah’s applesauce before she noticed it wasn’t her ice cream, reading him the same page of bedtime story till he turned it himself. He hadn’t seemed to mind, but she couldn’t go on like this. Life didn’t stop when her world fell apart.
She slumped where she sat, only to bolt upright as the door rattled open.
“Who’s there?”
“Just me.” Fiona stepped into the moonlight, waving as she did. She made her way across the bridge and took a seat next to Jayne. “I saw you come in here, and I thought you might like some company.”
“Thanks. Being alone is overrated.” She leaned back, covering a yawn. “Sorry. I’m so tired, but I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight.”
“What happened today wasn’t your fault,” said Fiona. “Trust me. That’s been brewing for years.”
“Oh, I know that.” Jayne kicked at the dirt, sending a pebble splashing into the pond. “It’s just...you don’t want to hear this.”
“About Danny?”
“He’s your family. I don’t want to put you in the middle.”
“Then I’ll talk. You tell me if I’m close.” Fiona reached down as a duck waddled over to investigate, scratching it between its wings. “Danny’s a hard man to get close to,” she said. “He’s sweet and he’s funny. He’ll bend over backward to make you smile. But try sitting down for a serious conversation, and—”
“It’s like he’s two different people.” Jayne fidgeted with her watch strap. “I’m starting to wonder if sweet Danny’s just a mask, and the guy I saw today—the angry guy, the guy with secrets—that’s who I’m really with. And if he ever got comfortable, if he let himself relax, I’d never see that first guy again.”
“No.” Fiona shook her head. “Nobody’s two people, not really. But some people’s defenses take on a life of their own.” She chuckled. “Bas was like that—still is, sometimes. He gets stressed, and he falls back into old habits: What would a king do? What would Father have done? I have to pull him back, ask him what he wants to do. What feels right.”
Jayne thought about that for a moment, tried to picture herself pulling Danny back from the edge, but she couldn’t see how. She’d thrown everything she had at him, and it had bounced off his armor. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not stupid. I came here with a solid plan B. But then I started to fall for him, and I’ve been...I kind of let that slide.”
Fiona studied her quietly, head tilted in thought. “You’re a perceptive person,” she said. “What are your instincts telling you?”
Jayne laughed. “That’s just the thing. I don’t know. One minute, they’re telling me yes, he’s the one. He’s kind. He’s smart. He’s amazing with Noah. He understands him in ways even I don’t, and that’s not something that comes along every day.” She exhaled sharply, frustrated. “But then he shuts me out, and I’m not sure I know him at all. I’m not sure he’ll ever let me. I can’t sign up for half a marriage.”
“Nor should you.” Fiona’s expression turned pensive. “I won’t lie. I’m rooting for you two. I think you’re good for him, and from a purely selfish point of view, I don’t want to see you go. But you have to be sure.”
“I’m not ready to give up,” said Jayne. “But I think I have to get back to plan B. Make sure there’s a safety net, just in case.”
“What is your plan B?”
“Education,” she said. “Not teaching in the classroom—there’d still be a language barrier—but behind the scenes. I want to get involved with special education programs, especially early identification. Anything that could catch special needs kids right out of the gate, make sure they get what they need.” She brightened a little at the thought. “I met someone from Education First at the gala. We talked about my research, and he told me to send my CV.”
“And did you?”
“Not yet. I got it all ready, even wrote up an overview of my ideas, but...”
“But what?” Fiona leaned forward. “Danny or no Danny, that’s a great opportunity. And we need that here. I’ve been looking at schools for Graham, and a lot of them are still quite old fashioned.”
“I’m...not sure.” Jayne frowned. Courting Danny had felt like a dream, all romance and luxury and bright days filled with family. Jayne wasn’t the superstitious type, but reaching for the real world felt like waking up. She wasn’t ready for that.
“Jayne?”
“I was too happy,” she said. “And now I have to figure out how to fight for that.”
* * *
Danny stretched as he stepped out of the car. It felt good to have his cast off, to swing his arms without the added weight. He flexed his hand and grinned; he hadn’t lost nearly as much muscle tone as he’d feared. A week, maybe two, and he’d be back to his old routine. He bounded up the steps.
“Danny.” Chadil intercepted him midstride and thrust a stack of envelopes into his hands. “Your secretary mentioned you’re behind on your mail. I thought I’d make a personal delivery.”
“Uh-huh.” He rifled through the pile, but nothing stood out as unusual. Anything important, they’d call. “I’ll look through these later.”
“What did the doctor say?”
“You know: no impact sports, easy on the weights. The usual.” He fingered a light blue envelope, obviously some sort of invitation. An ornate inscription wound its way across the front, completely illegible, and he had to wonder why they did that. Nobody read calligraphy, not really. You glanced at the nice handwriting, then tore it in half to read the printing inside.
The Sheikh’s Mail-Order Bride: Halabi Sheikhs Book Three Page 8