Harper Allen - The Night In Question

Her gaze went past him to the kitchen window. Frilled Priscilla curtains were held back on each side of it, and beyond the fussy eyelet lace the night outside seemed empty and black. She closed her eyes for a second, and opened them again to find him still watching her.

“It was a bad marriage.” Her teeth caught at her bottom lip, and she shook her head. “No—it was a hellish marriage. There’d never been any love there, on Kenneth’s part or mine, and a month or so after the wedding I realized that I didn’t even like him. He was the coldest, most ruthless person I’d ever known.”

She smiled bleakly at the silent man in front of her. “But like you said, I’d been born with a charge card in my hand. I’d been raised to believe that marrying for love was unthinkably naive, and as long as I made myself available to him when he needed me—whether it was to accompany him to some social function, to host a dinner party or to provide him with an heir to take over the Tennant empire one day—Kenneth paid for anything I wanted without question.”

“You were his wife, for God’s sake.” Max broke his silence as if he couldn’t help himself. His jaw tightened. “Maybe you married for all the wrong reasons, but you wouldn’t be the first to make that mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mistake. I put a price on myself, and Kenneth met that price.” Her voice didn’t waver. “But when Willa was born, I took one look at her and fell completely and totally in love—and I knew I’d already done the most terrible thing to her I could do. I’d had no business making a child with a man I didn’t love, Max. I’d had no right to bring a life into the world to fulfill my end of a bargain. And to Kenneth, all that was important was that she was the wrong sex. He wanted a boy to carry on in his footsteps, not a daughter.”

“That was his problem, not yours.” Max’s voice was edged. He took a step closer to her. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“Because I wouldn’t have been allowed to take Willa with me,” she said, looking away. “Kenneth saw both of us as possessions, and even if he couldn’t stop me from walking out of the marriage he would have made sure I never saw her again. I’d wanted a rich man. I got one. He had enough money to buy anything, even sole custody of his daughter. I think if I’d given him the son he’d wanted he might have made some kind of deal, but after Willa was born I vowed to myself I wouldn’t bring another child into that marriage.”

Her smile was crooked. “You know what’s funny, Max? Once or twice I really did daydream about how life would be if he wasn’t there anymore. I never actually considered murder, but when I saw his plane explode I couldn’t find it in my heart to mourn for him. I felt more grief over the deaths of Buddy Simpson and Ian Carstairs than I did over my own husband’s.”

“The Tenn-Chem pilot and Kenneth’s personal secretary.” He nodded. “Yeah, they left families too. And then there was Van Hale.”

“I hadn’t really known Robert long. He and Babs had only been married for a short time when he died, but losing him like that devastated her. Until I was arrested and charged with planting the bomb, I stayed with her as much as I could. I was afraid of what she might do to herself.”

“She was your best friend, wasn’t she?” He took in a tense breath. “And now she’s the woman keeping your daughter from you. That’s my fault too, Julia. But whatever it takes, I’m—”

“It’s not your fault. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

It was ironic, she thought. For over two years now the man in front of her had been convinced she was guilty of the one crime she hadn’t committed. Now he seemed just as determined to find her innocent on all counts—and some part of her was more than willing to let him keep his good opinion of her.

But that was why she’d needed to confess to him in the first place, she told herself coldly. Because she had to make him see that she didn’t deserve absolution.

He could get Willa back for you. He said it himself—if your name was completely cleared, no court would keep her from you. That’s what you’ve wanted, isn’t it?

The small voice inside her head didn’t belong to her anymore. It was the voice of the woman she’d once been, Julia thought dully—Sylvia’s daughter, who, if she’d learned nothing else from her beautiful mother, had been taught that her golden looks and an ability to tell the number of carats in a diamond at a glance entitled her to glide through life without taking any responsibility. And there was still enough of Sylvia left in her that she’d shirked from telling him the whole truth, even yet.

She raised her gaze to his, schooling her features into a frozen impassivity.

“I thought you would have come across it during your investigation, but I guess Kenneth’s lawyers must have figured it made him look almost as bad as it did me.” Despite herself, her voice shook. “But it exists, Max. I wish to heaven it didn’t but it does, and my signature’s on it.”

“What exists, dammit?” Obliterating the last few inches between them, he took her by the shoulders, his grip firm. He shook his head in confusion. “Did Tennant get you to sign some kind of prenuptial agreement or something? Whatever it was, it won’t have any bearing on whether you’re given custody of Willa. You’re her mother, for God’s sake—no one can take that away from you.”

“That’s just it—it wasn’t taken away from me!”

Wrenching out of his grasp, Julia felt the tremors start to spread. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, as if to hold them in, but it was no use. She stared back at him, her vision glazing in pain.

“It wasn’t taken away from me, Max—I gave it up.” Her voice cracked hoarsely. “I gave Willa up.”

She saw the incomprehension in his eyes and suddenly the guilt and shame that had been dammed up in her for so long spilled over in a corrosive wave.

“You still don’t get it, do you?” she said, her tone rising thinly. “I signed all rights to my daughter away two days before I got married, Max! She’s the most precious thing in my life—and nothing can wipe out the fact that I traded her away before she was even born.”

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