The Gentlewoman

by Lisa Durkin

  “Congressman, Congresswoman, thank you for agreeing to this interview,” she began, dripping with sugar. She shook both their hands, lingering with Jackson’s. Rory watched as she damn well batted her fake eyelashes at him. She pressed her lips together to suppress her smile. She caught Nicole’s laugh off-stage.

  Before she knew it, they were rolling. The monitor showed the show’s intro and introductory footage from the Dateline studio. After that snippet, the director came forward telling them they were on a three-minute commercial break.

  A thought occurred to Rory. “Does Dateline normally do live interviews?”

  “Not to my knowledge.” The director shrugged as he rearranged them until they were sitting closer and Jackson had his arm resting on the couch behind her. Her legs were crossed, hands in her lap. She looked down and drew strength from the engagement ring she wore, courtesy of her sweet man.

  The director counted down to the moment that the Dateline studio threw the story to Barbie, and she began to speak.

  “I’m here today with…blah blah blah…” Rory and Jackson both responded to her longwinded introduction with their polite good evenings. Ms. Roberts directed the audience’s attention to another prepared reel of footage. They watched the monitor.

  The footage began with Jackson’s history, both career-wise and personal. His family’s wealth and lineage were outlined. They showed family photos, FBI file photos and some stories of cases he’d worked prior to coming to Congress. They reviewed the committees he served and his conservative voting record. Rory smirked at him. He narrowed his eyes playfully at her.

  They turned back to the monitor. Jackson’s marital and dating history was reflected in a fashion that, true to media form, made him seem like the Playboy Dorn they kept referring to him as. Several pictures of him with different women, including the Kennedy cousin and pop singer, flashed across the screen. One showed him in swim trunks at a racy-looking boat party. He shifted and became tense. She wasn’t sure why. He knew she had no issues with his bachelor games. She took his hand.

  She was surprised at the amount of film they had dug up on her. They detailed her races and wins in Ohio. They showed a couple pictures of her and her father, explaining how she grew up so close to him. She wondered how the hell they knew, and looked at Nicole. They told of her connection to her mentor, the former mayor and current Director of Commerce Landon McCollum. They spoke of her appointment to Congress. For the most part it was factually accurate.

  And then the real story was unveiled. She cringed as the footage of the farmhouse was shown. Aerial footage was replayed that she had seen time and again of the farmhouse surrounded by police cars and ambulances, emergency personnel running here and there.

  Her heart sank as it went on. Her wedding announcement and pictures of Aidan flashed in front of her eyes as the story of how they met and eventually married was told.

  And then there was a summary of what Aidan did. How he killed her father and almost succeeded in killing Rory. To her horror, she watched as crime scene photos were flashed across the screen of the bloodied interior, her father, and herself. She felt Jackson’s arms go around her.

  Her heart raced and the roaring in her ears almost blocked out all other sound, but she heard the cut to commercial when the reel ended.

  Rory looked at Barbie’s stupid smiling face.

  “We’ll start in three minutes,” she chirped happily and looked down at her notes. Rory looked at Jackson, who held her tightly.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  She swallowed the metallic taste in her mouth. She reminded herself that she had volunteered for this. It was all her idea.

  “I’ll be all right,” she whispered. She looked at Nicole, who seemed torn as to what to do. She gave her a slight nod to reassure her that she could do this.

  Jackson grabbed the water. “Drink this. You’ve gone completely white.” She drank and breathed deeply, struggling to bring her panic under control.

  “I’ll be okay,” she repeated.

  The director counted down and Rory made an effort to put on her game face. If there was ever a time for her “show no fear” motto, it was this moment. She took one last deep breath.

  On cue, Barbie welcomed and thanked Rory and Jackson again, wishing them happy Valentine’s Day. She pitched her congratulations on their engagement and directed her first question to Jackson.

  “What exactly is it about the congresswoman that made you propose in such a short time? Has it been six weeks?”

  “Six weeks tomorrow actually,” Jackson answered enthusiastically. He settled his gaze on Rory and smiled. “Well, Ms. Roberts, when you find the most beautiful, perfect person in the world, the one you’ve been searching for, you don’t waste time making the best decision you’ve ever made.”

  Barbie turned to Rory. “And you didn’t hesitate to agree to marriage?”

  Rory looked into Jackson’s eyes. “No way. If you’re smart, you never turn down the best thing that ever happened to you.” Jackson beamed at her.

  “You went to Maine and became engaged officially. Tell us about that.” They replayed the humorous events at the Follies and Rory talked about how nice it was to spend time with Jackson’s son. When they recounted the events of the proposal, Rory teared up and Jackson took her hand. The monitor showed a close-up of her engagement ring as Jackson told of its passage down his family tree.

  Ms. Roberts asked about their political differences. Jackson explained that they really had very few differences. They rather seemed to arrive at the same conclusions via different routes. He gushed about Rory’s policy and legislative savvy, and her tough-as-nails approach to serving the people. Rory had never felt so highly praised.

  She began to relax as they were asked about their recent collaboration on the Homeland Security bill that was now working its way through committee. Rather than discuss the real drama, Rory and Jackson presented a united front. They talked about how the bill, with its added personnel and tougher sentencing requirements, would help fight crime.

  It was at that point that Rory thought she should have seen what was coming.

  “Congresswoman, are you hopeful that this bill will help to prevent others from living through the violence you experienced?”

  Her first instinct was to deflect, but she forced herself to remember what she needed to accomplish here. She swallowed hard and held her chin high.

  “Yes I am. It’s my hope that added personnel will help dissuade criminals like Aidan Sullivan and his family from trying to take advantage of the American people.”

  “Tell us, Congresswoman, looking back on the deception that your late husband perpetrated on you and your family, how did that fake marriage and subsequent violent attack change your life?”

  Rory trained her eyes on Barbie. She could feel Jackson’s hand move to her lower back.

  She cleared her throat. “Obviously, it was a horrific event in my life.”

  “Yes, please tell us.”

  Barbie’s spurring her on pissed her off. She tried to keep her hands from visibly shaking. She struggled with her physical need for flight, versus what she knew she needed to do to move on with life. She squared her shoulders.

  “The whole incident changed my life completely. I lost my father in a horribly violent manner. I lost everything that was dear to me, and nearly died myself.”

  “Are you still affected as deeply today?”

  That question was useful; she could steer it. “Meeting and falling in love with Jackson Dorn has changed my life. I have never experienced happiness like I have with Jackson. It’s so easy to see how small a man Aidan Sullivan was when compared to this man.” She stared into his eyes and he reassured her with one look. “Now that Jackson and I have our life together, that cowardly criminal and his family are just a dim memory.” She was blatant about showing her steely gaze. She needed to sell this message to Roan.

  “That’s wonderful. The attack itself was so very tragic
and violent. Can you take us through what happened that day?”

  Her head snapped sharply back to the reporter. She felt Jackson shift beside her. Panic rose in her chest, but she reminded herself that she was on live television and didn’t want to come off as fucking crazy.

  “That day was the culmination of Aidan Sullivan finding out that my father and I were working with the authorities to bring him down.”

  “He took you from work in the middle of the day, is that correct?”

  “Yes,” Rory replied.

  “How did he manage to get you to go with him?”

  She looked her in the eye. “He told me that he’d kill my father if I didn’t get into the car,” she snapped. Hang in there. It’s not that bad. It’s almost over. She focused on Nicole’s blonde hair over the reporter’s shoulder.

  “And he took you to your family’s farmhouse in Erie County, a holiday spot that you adored since you were a child.”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell us about the car ride.”

  Rory stared. She sat stone still. “He beat me the entire way.”

  “How did he beat you?”

  “With his fists,” she spat. She felt Jackson’s hand cover hers.

  “In fact he ruptured your left eye, broke four ribs and your left wrist, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And when you reached your destination, it continued, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “He raped you that day. Can you tell us what you were thinking as your own husband raped you repeatedly?”

  The pounding in Rory’s ears and head and the panic racing through her chest would have caused her to double over if her anger hadn’t soared. She lifted her chin and answered the question directly.

  “As you can imagine, it was torture. A cowardly act of violence by a person who knew no other way to live his life but to terrorize others for what he wanted.”

  “Records show, Congresswoman, that he continually raped you throughout the day, that this continued for approximately five hours before he attacked and killed your beloved father in front of you. What was that like for you?” Barbie cocked her head to the side.

  Rory was confused for a moment as to what records this bitch was referring. A new stab of fear went through her.

  “Terror. Torture. It was indescribable and heartbreaking. That was what it was like,” she gasped.

  The cunt proceeded to describe for the audience in detail how Aidan raped, beat her and dragged her around, and then stabbed and slit her father’s throat. Rory held her breath and closed her eyes for a moment before taking control of her reaction.

  “And then he turned his knife on you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Your husband wanted to kill you, Congresswoman?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you were pregnant with his child.”

  The air escaped from her lungs and she swayed. Before she could answer, the reporter looked into the camera and advised the audience that they would be right back to hear more from Congresswoman Morgan.

  Everybody rushed forward. Nicole began screaming at the reporter while Jackson encased Rory in his arms. He yelled to get her more water and give her air.

  She breathed deeply, both hands braced on the couch cushion, holding her up. Holy fuck. Everybody knew. Everybody knew. The thought went round and round in her mind. She looked up and peered at Allison Roberts.

  “Where the fuck did you get that information?” she rasped hoarsely.

  The bitch responded smoothly. “Isn’t it true?”

  “That’s not the point,” Jackson’s publicist barked at the woman. “This is highly unprofessional behavior. Expect a response from our firm, as well as the congressman and congresswoman’s lawyers.” He turned to the producer. “I’m sure Dateline will take issue. This was a setup!”

  “This ends now,” Jackson seethed. “This goes no further.”

  “No,” Rory breathed loudly, dropping her hand from her forehead. Everybody fell silent and looked at her. “We can’t stop now; it’s out. I have to deal with it,” she said, resigned.

  “You don’t have to,” Jackson urged.

  She looked around, meeting the faces of those around her. Nicole looked almost as bad as Rory felt. She turned back to Jackson, who looked wrecked.

  “I don’t want anybody’s pity. That’s what I’ll have if I don’t finish this.”

  “Twenty seconds,” the director said flatly.

  Rory looked around and nodded stiffly to everybody. She straightened herself and took a deep breath. She stared at Ms. Roberts, who blinked at her in return.

  She narrowed her eyes and spoke slowly. “Hit me again, bitch. Just remember, I hit back. Hard.”

  As the cameras rolled on, Ms. Roberts continued tenuously.

  Rory peered at her. “Yes, I was pregnant.”

  “How far along was the pregnancy?”

  Her hands curled into fists.

  “Fourteen weeks,” she said quietly.

  “Tell us what happened.”

  Her eyes must have closed because she opened them and looked at the bitch. The room spun on its axis, but she focused on the reporter and answered in a smooth, clear voice.

  “I never told him I was pregnant because I had found out what he was. Dad and I were the only ones who knew. But somehow Aidan found out. It angered him. He went crazy. He killed my father and then…and then he said he’d correct my mistake…and he stabbed me in the abdomen.” She closed her eyes again. “He stabbed me…over and over…and I felt him…taking my baby.”

  “And what did you do?” the reporter asked quietly.

  Rory’s eyes sprang open again. “What do you think I did? I tried to protect my baby. I tried to get away, as I had all day. But he kept stabbing and cutting me.” She was louder now and she felt Jackson’s hand again. “He was cutting my baby…”

  A sob escaped her throat as she continued in a stream of words.

  “I don’t know how, but I finally shoved a pen into his eye and got away. He followed me and tried to strangle me. I got his gun from behind his back and shot him. But I couldn’t save my father, or my baby…and I have to live with that every day.”

  There was a moment of silence before the reporter continued.

  “And the fact that you can never have another baby.”

  She breathed out and her shoulders dropped. She glared at the reporter. “Yes.”

  After it was finally over, they disconnected the microphone from her collar and she stood. Speechless, she looked hard into Allison Robert’s eyes before turning and walking off the soundstage. Jackson followed. Nicole draped her coat over Rory’s shoulders and saw them silently to the waiting car. Jackson held her in his lap as they drove away. She stared out the window, her cheek against his chest.

  He carried her into the hotel; neither of them cared how it looked. Once inside he went into the bedroom and sat back against the headboard, not letting go of her. They stayed that way until they heard knocking at the door.

  Jackson answered as Nicole and the publicist entered, followed by Caroline from Jackson’s office. Rory could hear them mumbling from the bedroom.

  After a few minutes, the door opened and Nicole came and sat on the bed, her hand going to Rory’s shoulder.

  “I’m okay,” Rory said mechanically. She lay on her side, staring at the wall.

  “I’m so sorry, Ror.” Nicole was in tears. Rory couldn’t move to make her feel better. She felt paralyzed.

  “It’s my fault. I should have vetted the questions more, insisted we review everything first.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Rory murmured. “That bitch was trying to make her career move. She wouldn’t have been honest with you anyway.”

  Nicole laid her head on Rory’s shoulder. Rory wished she could move or say something to assuage the guilt her friend was feeling. But she just couldn’t move.

  They stayed still, leaning against each other. At some point Jackson
came in, sitting on the bed. Nicole sat up and looked at him, wiping her eyes.

  “Landon’s here,” he said quietly.

  “I don’t want to see anybody,” Rory murmured. Jackson rubbed her back.

  “Hello, dear,” Landon said from the doorway. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I wanted to check on you.”

  He came forward and Rory finally turned. She eased herself up against the headboard. Nicole and Jackson gave them some privacy.

  He sat on the bed and placed his hand over hers. She stared at her lap.

  “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay. I know you’re not, not really,” he whispered. “And that’s okay. You don’t have to be. But you will be someday.”

  She remained silent.

  He spoke gently. “Rory, your father was the best friend I ever had. Besides my wife, he was the closest person in the world to me. We knew each other better than we knew ourselves.”

  She looked into his eyes, the mention of her father drawing her.

  “Will Morgan was my brother.”

  Tears entered her eyes and he turned his body toward her, their faces inches apart.

  “So I know this to be true; I want you to remember what I’m telling you. Your father would be damned proud of you, Rory. Damned proud.”

  Tears ran down her cheeks. She stared at him. Her chest was stricken with pain.

  Landon continued. “You did well today. You did nothing wrong. There’s nothing wrong with the world knowing a little something about what happened to you and your dad. I don’t want you to beat yourself up over this. Your dad would be proud. I’m proud.” He took her in his arms, tucking her under his chin and holding her tightly as she cried.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Rory and Jackson woke on Friday and she let him cancel her day. She had no desire to see or be seen by anyone. She lay in bed unmoving for a good portion of the morning. She didn’t have an appetite when Jackson ordered breakfast. She felt guilt at the concerned expression on his face.

  He worked on his laptop next to her as she lay in bed. When his phone rang for the tenth time and he moved into the outer room to take the call, she got up and started a shower. It wasn’t because she particularly felt like showering but more so that she wouldn’t hear what he was saying to his lawyer on the phone. All kinds of lawyers were involved. Apparently it had been obvious to all who watched that she had not intended to spill beans of the pregnancy or her subsequent barrenness.