Heartless A Shieldmaiden's Voice: A Covenant Keeper Novel

by S. R. Karfelt

  “You bought those for me?”

  “Beth chose them, so you have to love them.”

  Ted’s humor was infectious and she laughed at him. “But can I walk in them?”

  “You can hold onto my arm.”

  Carole took the clothes and headed into the enormous bathroom.

  IT USUALLY TOOK Carole less than five minutes to bathe and dress for the day. She slipped inside the glass enclosed shower and took her time, shampoo and conditioner. She nabbed Ted’s razor and shaved, something she rarely did. She brushed her teeth with Ted’s toothbrush, and ran some of his hair oil through her cropped mess, slicking it back with his comb. After slipping the little dress over her head and strapping on the heels, it had taken her almost fifteen minutes. Made of good silk, the dress felt okay against her skin, but the style of the dress and that it was a dress made her uncomfortable. It was the first dress she’d owned since she’d been in the orphanage in New Mexico. She paused in front of the mirror. The dress was too tight, but she liked the shade of blue, it matched Ted’s eyes. Tiny flowers and birds were embroidered over it in brilliant colors. The shoes were the exact same shade of red as the red flowers. As young as she was, Beth had an eye for little things.

  Carole stepped into the bedroom where Ted waited, his mouth dropped open. “Carole, you are stunning. There ought to be a law that you have to dress up, at least now and then. Wait!” He darted over to the double dresser and fished around. “Beth filled your stocking with make-up.” He glanced at her expression and put the lipstick down with a grin. “Okay, baby steps.” Carole laughed and something made her take his hand. The doorbell rang. She could sense a young female standing in the hall and her heart sank a bit. Was this the date? She tried to let go of his hand, but he threaded his fingers through hers.

  “That would be the babysitter, Kimmy Lee’s only twelve, but her mother is in the apartment next door. Come on, our car will be waiting downstairs.”

  THE CAR TURNED out to be a limousine, and it took them into the heart of Hong Kong on a Saturday night, leaving them at a chic hotel. Ted greeted every person as though they were old friends, from the doorman to the United States Secretary of State, who stood with his wife. He spoke to the Japanese Prime Minister in the man’s native language. The men all greeted Carole with polite interest, bowed graciously, kissed her hand or shook it, and turned their conversation to Ted. Most of the topics involved either politics or sports, but Carole felt fairly certain that most of the conversations had nothing to do with what was said. There was subterfuge in every idle comment, and Ted appeared quite good at this type of cloak and dagger politics. He remembered where everyone lived, their families, what they liked to drink and what sports teams they followed. Ted’s comments and questions seemed to soothe tension or initiate conversation. He moved from group to group, welcomed with fresh enthusiasm by each new assembly, and disappointed regret following each departure. Carole had never been so bored in all of her life.

  Standing at Ted’s elbow, with an untouched flute of champagne in her hand, she occupied her mind with escape plans, recognizing concealed weapons and shooting covert looks of hostility towards men who stared openly and admiringly at her. At first she thought there was something wrong with her dress, like a gaping seam exposing her lack of under-things. Once she ruled that out, she thought her clothes were inappropriate, considering most of the women wore long sweeping gowns, artful make-up and had hair like a country western singer. Then she noted the winks, raised eyebrows, and lascivious interest in eyes raking repeatedly up her legs and over the too-tight dress. Because she stood next to Ted, not one of the men dared express open interest, and Carole soon turned her attention back to escape routes.

  FOR DINNER TED and Carole were seated at a round table with five other couples. The women in the group were plainly curious about her.

  “I’d heard a rumor that Ted was married!” At first Carole stared blankly at the woman, then Ted started to chuckle and she realized it was meant to be a joke.

  “She travels so much. When she is home we don’t like to share her.” Ted squeezed her shoulder.

  “What is it you do, dear?” An elderly woman with probing bug eyes seemed very interested in the answer. Ted stiffened at her side.

  Carole lied. “I’m an interpreter for the U.N.” The voices protested her lie. They were exceedingly hard to please. Apparently the only acceptable lies were the ones they suggested, and they suggested plenty of them. She ignored them. The CIA had provided her cover from the first. It was just rare that she had to use it. Carole simply didn’t socialize.

  Ted recouped, apparently remembering the cover story himself, but sticking with facts. “Carole’s a whiz with languages.”

  A redhead on the far side of Ted leaned forward, her eyes unfriendly. “That’s probably where Beth gets it from then? That child is amazing.”

  “You know Beth?” Carole asked.

  “I was her nanny for a while when Ted first moved to Hong Kong.” Carole tensed. She studied the attractive redhead. Tiny, like many of the nannies Ted chose, she also had an impressive expanse of shiny hair—another trait Ted seemed to have a penchant for. Her date was an older man. Ted hurried to introduce them.

  “Carole, this is Alexa. She did nanny for Beth until she started school. Alexa’s date is with the Chinese Embassy here in Hong Kong.” The gentleman was so old he just stared blankly into the distance, his head nodding up and down.

  “Yes,” Alexa gave Ted a dirty look. “Kim was kind enough to let me tag along when my date fell through.”

  Carole reached for her glass of water and took a sip. So Alexa was the date, but at least Ted wasn’t going with married women. It wasn’t exactly a silver lining, but the small consolation was all she had. She felt Ted’s hand on her thigh beneath the table and he squeezed, explaining, “And that sardonic remark was meant for me as the rest of the table knows. Alexa has been kind enough to accompany me to functions in your absence.”

  Carole met his eyes in surprise. What was he telling her? He’d never once explained any woman to her before. She smiled at him, and then turned the smile towards Alexa. The woman didn’t return the gesture.

  CAROLE WIGGLED THE dress up and sat on the toilet quickly. Several glasses of water and lemon slices were a poor substitute for food, and her growling stomach wasn’t the only side-effect. The food was artful and sparse, and beyond a few wax beans and a tomato salad there was nothing she could dare to eat. This entire night she felt very out of her element. It was low-grade torture. Sitting in the peaceful seclusion of the ladies room, she tried to figure out the automatic toilet paper dispenser.

  “So that is the elusive Mrs. Ted White?” A woman’s snarky voice echoed through the ladies room, and Carole placed it as belonging to the bug-eyed woman. “That dress is really something. Martin drooled in his plate all evening.”

  “Guess so.” Alexa sounded bored.

  “I thought he was on the verge of divorce—or maybe it was that they’re Catholic, and just staying together because they don’t believe in divorce. I heard something like that before. That dress didn’t look very Catholic. So much for Washington rumors.”

  “He married her because she got knocked up. He doesn’t love her.” Alexa’s voice sounded hateful. But those last words never lost their power over Carole. She leaned forward and put her head in her hands.

  “You keep telling yourself that, Alexa. He sure looked happy, and that woman is stunning.”

  “I’ve been helping Ted for seven months. I think I know how happy he is.”

  “I hope you have more respect for yourself than to let a married man use you.”

  “Like you wouldn’t let Ted White use you.”

  The snarky woman laughed. “Touché, as much and often as he wanted to, but now you’re out in the cold, Wifey is back and you’re with old Kim Fong, or is it Fong Kim?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Don’t kid yourself, Alexa. Ted White’s philandering is
infamous, but he’s devoted to that kid of his, and no man alive would walk out on a woman like that.”

  “Oh, Ted’s just grown a conscience because the kid asked some nosy questions. She came home early one day just when things were getting interesting and asked if we were having a sleepover.”

  “Hah, were you?”

  “I don’t think there would have been any sleeping involved!” Alexa laughed at her own joke. “Anyway it doesn’t matter what his wife looks like because sooner or later she’ll head off to wherever the U.N. is, and that man has needs.”

  “Oh, really? Needs? I wouldn’t know about those firsthand. Martin is happy with the bi-annual dash, as I like to call it. Did you know Ted was engaged to one of the Kennedy’s once? It was a match made in heaven for Washington. Word was he was going to go into politics like his father, and she had the background. Huh, it couldn’t have been a Kennedy it had to have been a Republican. Maybe it was an Eisenhower cousin, I forget. It was a while ago.”

  “What happened?” It sounded like this was news to Alexa too.

  “It was all very tragic—maybe that’s why I was thinking Kennedy. It might have been a Vanderbilt, I can’t remember. Anyway the wedding was on the Cape in June, huge affair, everyone was invited and they went. Except Martin and me, we were in Europe that summer. So anyway, on the eve of their wedding, his fiancée drove into Hyannis Port to pick up her wedding dress with Ted’s mother. Driving back they were in a horrible wreck and they both died at the scene—she might have been one of the Hemingway’s, I can’t remember, but her first name was Beth. I remember that, because it was Ted’s mother’s name too.”

  “God. Are you sure they both died, Joyce?”

  “That’s not the best part. Turns out the fiancé had had a drunken bachelorette party and a fling with an old flame, days before, and Ted found out about it at the funeral!”

  Alexa snorted. “That sounds like typical Washington exaggeration, Joyce.”

  “His father told him. That man was such a lush, always drunk. Anyway, the thing is the rumor was that the old flame was Ted’s dad, Mr. Filthy-Rich Theodore White Senior of White Enterprises,” Joyce finished with a flourish.

  Carole flushed the toilet, stood, yanked her dress down and slammed the stall door open so hard it echoed through the sparse modern bathroom. Holding Joyce’s gaze in the mirror she stalked to the sink, and calmly washed her hands. Both women suddenly had nothing to say. Joyce looked delightfully horrified, her bug eyes darting from Carole to Alexa a bit hopefully. Alexa defiantly held her ground, but when Carole moved close to nab a paper towel off the marble sink the woman flinched away.

  Conversationally Carole told Alexa, “The U.N. is in New York—City.” She painstakingly dried her hands while Alexa’s mouth opened, and then wisely closed again. Tossing the crumpled towel into the trash, Carole stopped in front of the mirror to smooth her dress and her already smooth hair. She gracefully crossed the shining granite floor, her heels clicking with each step. Placing one hand on the door, she paused to look back. “By the way, Alexa? Joyce? My father was very Catholic.” She marched out.

  IT HAD BEEN ages since Ted had touched Carole like he meant it, but tonight it felt like he did. They usually went through the motions of being married almost every night whenever she was at home, but Ted kept his enthusiasm with his heart, far from Carole. A sick needy part of her, one that she spent a lot of time hating, delighted in his eagerness now. Wrapped around him, fingers entwined in that glorious hair, Carole wondered how he could bear to be with anyone else. They could have everything, if only he’d reach out and take it. If only he’d let her in. Pressing her bare chest to his, heart to heart, she groaned and bit his shoulder.

  Ted didn’t pull away this time, but he did put his weight onto his hands, creating as much distance between their hearts as he could without stopping. Carole knew to leave his heart alone or he would stop. The touch of it drew her now, despite all his dishonor and cheating. At this moment all that seemed far away. Like a bee to a flower under the hot sun, she simply needed. Like a breath of air, water in the desert, the desire for his heart felt primal and mandatory—and rejected. Grimacing, she forced her heart to stop reaching, and moved it away from the lure of Ted’s. It hurt, and the voices chimed in their protests, completely ruining the lovemaking for her.

  “Love is your purpose. You must—”

  Carole’s mind drifted, scanning into the kitchen in search of good food. A bowl of cooked rice and a dish of raw vegetables caught her attention, and she simply waited for Ted to finish so she could find something to supplement her meager meal from the dinner party.

  Fifteen minutes later, wrapped in Ted’s dress shirt, Carole sat on a wooden kitchen chair with chopsticks in hand shoveling cold rice and vegetables into her mouth. Ted wandered in wearing pajama bottoms, looking pleased and tousled. He kissed the top of her head on his way to the coffee maker. Carole was glad he’d enjoyed it and wished she could have too.

  “Thanks for tonight. There’s so much going on,” he said.

  For a moment she stopped eating, thinking he meant between them.

  “Hong Kong passing from Colonial rule is a diplomatic quagmire. I’m lucky to be here right now.”

  Carole resumed her meal.

  “I figured out why they keep sticking me in the middle of nowhere.” In the cool kitchen light Ted’s blue eyes glinted darkly and a chill tickled its way up Carole’s back. She set the chopsticks down and waited while Ted set the coffee pot to working. He leaned against the granite countertop and eyed her.

  “It’s Beth. She said some very politically incorrect things about the Chinese in school this past week. I lied and told them she had that Tourette Syndrome thing. They’d have thrown her out if I hadn’t.”

  Carole hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. She inhaled deeply. He didn’t know the real reason. Thank goodness! Ted would be furious if he found out her work was meddling in his career. It was the only way to keep them safe. Safe meant close to her. Safe also meant cities where her kind wouldn’t be.

  “You’re allowing Beth to take the blame!” the voices bellowed, shaming her. She shook it off.

  “Do you punish her when she talks like that?” Carole stirred her rice. “Don’t coddle her about it, Ted! You saw how dangerous her mouth could be in Somalia.”

  Avoiding her gaze Ted yanked out the coffee pot before it was ready. For a moment the only sound was scorching coffee as he quickly poured some into his cup and jammed the carafe back on the machine. He pulled out a chair, settling next to Carole.

  “I think she’s stopped having nightmares about that, but I know she remembers. She’s been begging me to let her sponsor a kid with one of those ministries that feeds them.”

  “Food won’t give that boy his hand back.”

  “Carole, don’t be hard-hearted about it. Beth was four years old and that boy was stealing.”

  “He was starving! Are you justifying Beth’s mouth?”

  Ted sat his coffee cup on the table. “No! I’m saying she didn’t mean to cause the boy harm. She didn’t realize what would happen! You weren’t there! Don’t judge!”

  Oh yes I was, Carole thought. But of course she couldn’t say that because Ted had no idea his plane had touched down in Mogadishu just so she could interfere in his plan to spend six months in the Alps. She couldn’t know for sure where her kind lived, but she had a bad feeling there’d be some of them in the Alps.

  “Negative reinforcement can be very inspiring,” she said.

  “I just think it would be better to keep her out of Africa for now.”

  Carole couldn’t argue with that, but she had a feeling that’s where she—and therefore they— would be headed next.

  “Is that where they’re sending you?” she asked innocently, shoveling the last of her rice into her mouth while the voices called her a liar.

  “I can probably get a few months delay until you go back to work, but I have a feeling that’
s what they’re thinking.”

  “Do you have a choice?”

  “They’ll pretend to listen to me, but the fact is I’m not taking Beth into the middle of any civil wars. I’ll go civilian first.”

  Uh-oh. “So her mouth has gotten worse?”

  “Yeah.” Ted put a big hand over hers, folded his fingers through it and drew it to his lips for a gentle kiss. He sighed. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

  “MOMMY’S HOME!” TED’S enthusiastic shout echoed through the apartment wall. Carole sensed Beth burrow deeper under her blankets. Apparently their morning girl no longer had to be up before dawn. Staring up at real cherry blossoms dangling over the bed like a canopy, Carole stretched. She wouldn’t mind sleeping longer either. Ted hadn’t been much interested in sleep last night. She grinned, scanning through the compact apartment. Ted playfully tugged at Beth’s blankets while their daughter stubbornly yanked them back up. Ted dug beneath them and teasingly yanked on Beth’s skinny legs, slowly sliding her out from the bottom of the bed.

  “Mommy’s home, sleepy bones! Get up!”

  “Oh, man!” Beth groused.

  “Old man? Did you call me an old man?”

  “You know what I said, Daddy,” came Beth’s pragmatic answer. “Why do you pretend like you don’t understand me? You always do that!”

  “It’s more fun,” came Ted’s honest reply.

  “Oh, man!” Beth said again, adding, “The fun’s over if mommy is home!”

  Carole’s heart sank a bit. It’s true. I’m definitely not any fun.

  “Mommy cooks.”

  Beth scrambled to sit up and bellowed, “Mommy cooks good!”