Intolerable Civility

Chapter Nine: The Shameful Truth

Miss Skinner looked crossly at Demery. "Now is hardly the time to start drinking wine."

"A little wine helps settle the nerves," he said. "Perhaps you would like some too, Miss Skinner?"

"I was not hinting that I had been neglected. Though it comes to me now that I was. You only brought wine for Catherine. Of course, she is your wife, but the more you mention it, the more pointed the omission feels."

"I apologize for overlooking you," Demery said. "I thought you to be in no need of a stimulant. I will go at once."

He made a movement towards the door but Miss Skinner rose to her feet and stalled him.

"No, no," she said. "I am quite in control of my nerves. They do not trouble me at all. The crisis is over and I am going to bed."

She departed before he could even say good night.

"She is right," Demery said. "The crisis is over. We can all go to bed."

There may have been some faint, dry humour in his voice, but Cate was in no mood for even a smile. She worried down some more wine. "I can't sleep. I want to watch him."

"May I stay and watch him with you?"

"Why?"

"Because I don't think your eyes are in any condition for watching yet." He crossed to Luke's crib and looked down upon him. "And because I was worried too."

That made Cate cry again, a river of hot, painful tears running down her face. Then Luke began to cry too, and she downed the rest of the wine to attempt to halt her tears. Through blurred vision, she saw Demery pick him up and soothe him gently against his broad shoulder. Luke looked so tiny in his arms. And so safe.

"Do you want him?" Demery asked.

"No. You... you do it." She wiped her eyes on her damp sleeve. "I don't trust myself not to drop him right now."

"I trust you." Demery sat down on the other end of the sofa and nestled Luke against his chest. "The last thing you would do is drop him."

She could not quite believe it, not right now. She set the empty wine glass down on the floor and took raw, salty breaths to try to control herself. As her tears dried, she could see Demery more clearly. He looked incongruous in the softly furnished room, shabby and windswept and out of place. His hands, so powerful and strong, yet so gentle, holding Luke. His face was tilted away from her, giving her the opportunity to study it. A rather long, solemn face, with such a heavy brow and such dark eyes. The lines around his eyes told of years spent outdoors, but the lashes that surrounded them were long and dark. She had never particularly noticed them before.

His dark eyes rose to meet her gaze and she quickly looked away.

"He's sleeping again," Demery said. "I'll try to put him back to bed."

He rose and nestled Luke back in his crib. After a little wriggling and whimpering, Luke fell silent, but Demery did not leave. Instead, he came back to sit down on the other end of the sofa. There was weariness in his movements. Guiltily, Cate remembered that he was to begin his journey to London in the morning, which was not far away now.

"Thank you," she said. "For going to get the doctor, and in the snow too. I asked a lot of you. I'm truly grateful."

"I will always help you if you ask, Catherine."

Of course he had said so before now, he had even proven it. He had provided her with pin money, given her these apartments, and treated her with courtesy, albeit distant, but until now it had not felt personal. It had been money and manners, not kindness.