Page 79 of A Sky Painted Gold

“Niece, definitely.” Alice grins.

“I don’t know,” I muse. “That bump looks like a boy to me.”

“There is a bump, isn’t there?” She pats her stomach. “Jack says you can’t tell yet, but I think you can.”

“You can definitely tell,” I agree, curling back up in my chair.

Alice looks at me and clears her throat, her face earnest. “Well, now that we’re friends again, can we talk about something important?” she asks solemnly, leaning forward and clasping her hands together.

I shift anxiously in my seat and nod.

“I love your hair,” she says. “Do you think mine would look good like that?”

When I leave Alice’s house I feel a lot better. Still sad and hurting, but full of some new sense of purpose.

I am trying hard not to think about Robert. This is made much more difficult by the fact that he is waiting for me when I arrive home.

My heart twists at the sight of him sitting on the doorstep, his elbows on his knees, his dark, curly head resting in his hands. When he looks up and sees me he jumps to his feet. He looks dishevelled, much less pristine than usual.

“Hello,” he says in a low voice. “I was worried about you.”

“I was at Alice’s,” I reply, coming to a stop in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“You always seem to be asking me that,” he says with a faint smile. He rubs a hand across his jaw.

I remain silent, glued to the spot. There has been so much to take in, I feel hollow, wrung out.

“I thought we should talk,” he says. “After last night.”

“Right,” I murmur. He’s come to apologize, I realize. He’s come to apologize for that kiss that meant so much to me, and to clear things up between us. I can’t bear it. I can’t bear to hear his careful explanation, to have him let me down gently in that same practical voice that Laurie used. I won’t let him. “I’m sorry about that,” I say, as lightly as I can manage.

“You’re sorry?” he asks, and it sounds like a loaded question.

“Yes.” The word sounds small. “It was all my fault. I didn’t know it was you. If I had known obviously I wouldn’t have…” I lift my hand, feebly, trailing off here.

“I see.” His voice is cool. “I see,” he says again.

“Laurie … explained some things to me this morning,” I exhale finally.

There is silence. “Lou,” Robert says, and his voice is gentle. “I wish you would look at me.”

It takes an enormous effort to lift my gaze to meet his. I feel as though my whole heart is in my eyes, as if he’ll be able to see right into me, to see every single thing I feel for him.

“Come and sit down,” he says, gesturing to the step that he has recently vacated. “Talk to me.”

We both sit. I fiddle nervously with the hem of my dress.

“What did Laurie say to you?” Robert asks.

“She explained a bit,” I say. “About your arrangement. About the – um – openness.” I feel my face turn red at that. “And about the money.” I definitely can’t look at him now.

There is a long silence, and we sit side by side. The warmth from his body is intoxicating. It’s all I can do not to lean against him.

Robert lets out a long breath. “I need to tell you something,” he says. “I need to explain. To help you see why this –” he waves his hand in the air as though gesturing to the whole world around us “– has happened.” He puts his head in his hands again, his fingers pulling at his hair. I can’t help it, I reach out and put the palm of my hand against his arm. He reaches over and puts his own hand on top of it, squeezing my fingers.

“I suppose it all starts with my father’s death.” Robert’s voice is tight, and I can tell that the words are difficult for him. “I don’t know how much you know?” He looks at me.

“Not very much,” I say carefully. “An accident at the house in Derbyshire.”