A Fine Imitation (24 page)

Vera gritted her teeth. The man had to be Hallan. So, he was flinging himself at all the women in the building, in the hopes that at least one would succumb to his advances? She leaned in but could not hear his response. Hoping their interlude had the two of them focused on each other, she peeked around the corner. Poppy had her arms around his neck, and her cheek was flushed as she gazed into his eyes. Hallan's back was to Vera, but she had seen enough to understand exactly what was going on.

She stormed back down the hall toward her room, where she sat for a few moments to allow her heartbeat to slow. Poppy's interest in Hallan had been plain from the beginning. Why should she be surprised that Poppy would take advantage of the time away from the Angelus to make her move? Vera was more surprised that Hallan would actually take an interest in someone so vapid.

The sound of her steps in the hallway must have alerted them. By the time she got back to the garden, they had both returned. Hallan's friendly look melted at the sight of her expression.

Vera's mother looked up. “Is the tea coming?”

“Oh. Oh, silly me. I went for my fan and completely forgot to ask.” Vera held up the fan halfheartedly. “I'll go right back in, Mother.”

Her mother gave her a strange look, but nodded.

Hallan stood. “I'll go with you.”

“That's not necessary,” Vera said, in a stiff, airless tone. “I can manage.”

She turned down the garden path. Despite her protests, Hallan followed close behind. She increased her pace, and he jogged up and caught her arm.

“What is wrong with you today?” he asked.

She pulled her arm from his grip and walked through the side door into the house. “Nothing at all. If you'll excuse me, I have to see that the tea is brought out.”

He followed, taking off his hat. “Everyone's hot. No one wants tea. Will you please tell me what's going on?”

“I didn't expect you to take such an interest in conversation with Poppy Hastings, that's all. I've never known her to have much of note to say. I can only imagine how much talking you did at her house last night.”

He frowned and glanced down the hall. “What—do you mean earlier? Did you see us in the house?”

She leaned in and lowered her voice to a hiss. “Yes, I saw it. And you really should try harder to hide your indiscretions. I don't know what it's like wherever you come from, but here gentlemen discourage the affections of married ladies. No matter how insistent the lady.”

His eyes widened. At first, Vera thought he had the good sense to be ashamed of what he had done, but then his features relaxed.

“You thought we were…” He shook his head. “Vera, I'm not interested in Poppy Hastings. She threw herself at me.”

Vera lifted her chin. “I'd rather not know the details.”

He gazed at her, as if trying to work out a riddle. “I…I don't believe it. You're jealous.”

“Don't be absurd. What's there to be jealous of? She's indecent.”

“You are jealous. You don't like seeing me with another woman.”

“That's enough. Why should I care what you do?”

A maid turned down the hall toward them, and Hallan pulled Vera into the study. He searched her face with his eyes. “Do you think I could ever feel for Poppy Hastings what I feel for you?”

Vera's face burned and she looked at the floor. She wrapped her arms around her waist, as if she could protect herself outwardly from what was happening in her mind. “You shouldn't say that sort of thing, you sound ridiculous.”

“Do I?” He lifted her chin with his fingertips. “But it's true.”

“Please. Please, don't say those things.”

“Why not?”

She exhaled hard. When she spoke, she could barely hear herself. “Because…because I'll begin to believe you.”

“Good.” He placed a hand on her neck and pulled her close. Just before his lips met hers, he paused, eyes closed, and sighed. His breath on her lips sent a jolt through her whole body, and she kissed him, unable to hold back. His mouth still tasted of the sweet sting of lemonade. She let herself enjoy the feel of his fingers on the back of her neck, his chest pressed against hers, the bright scent of his shaving lotion.

A noise in the hall brought her back to her senses, and she backed away. Without another look at him, she turned and ran back to her room. She locked the door behind her and sat on the bed. Her heart pounded in her temples. What had she done? What if someone had seen?

She had given in. Worse than that, everything about giving in felt right. His lips fit hers, and his touch on her skin had ignited a fire deep within her. Kissing him felt so natural, as if her life had been quietly building to that moment. As if she had been waiting.

She could not see Hallan again. She did not want to see what “after” looked like. If he might be pleased with himself, or disappointed, or bored. The rest of the day would have to be spent in her room. She rang for a maid to send the message to her mother that she would take her dinner there. Her mother would certainly take issue with Vera's odd behavior, but who could worry about that? Once they got back to the Angelus, she would have to tell him that she could not see him anymore. For the moment, she needed the door between them.

When they departed Abide Away early the next morning, Vera was grateful once more that Hallan was traveling in Poppy's car. He left with only a quick glance in Vera's direction. His expression was stormy, and she could only imagine how dinner had gone the night before without her there. She hoped he had the good sense to take his meal in his room. Though surely at least part of the cause of his expression was her disappearing act after their kiss.

She could not even think about that moment of carelessness without sinking into misery. The kiss played out in her mind, over and over again. She tried to will it away, but the memory only grew stronger. How could she make such a mistake? To Hallan she was a plaything, something to be won. He could not possibly care for her, not really.

Arthur asked how she was feeling, but his show of interest in her absence from dinner the night before was easily deflected, and then he read the paper the whole ride back. Vera was left to stare out the window, watching the city quietly rise in the distance. She was surprised Arthur had stayed the whole weekend, rather than going back on Sunday afternoon. Then again, he always seemed to enjoy spending time at Abide Away. She suspected he enjoyed the prospect of Vera inheriting it one day more than anything, as he often mentioned owning a house at the shore but never seemed keen to look into buying one. Another thing for him to be master of, another possession that would secure his position. As they neared the Angelus, the buildings towered over them once more, and she had the unsettling feeling that, instead of standing tall, they were curving above her, threatening collapse.

They arrived at the apartment, and Arthur promptly changed out of his traveling clothes and dressed for work. Vera sat on the bed, half watching, wondering if he would even care what she had done. If she told him, right then, would he even listen? He did not want her; why should he worry that anyone else might? Her husband had never expressed any interest in how she occupied herself during those nights alone. He only ever seemed to care that she looked the part of the society wife in public, not whether she acted it in private.

Vera went downstairs after Arthur left. She was not really concerned that Arthur might find out. What weighed on her now was the need to be sure that Hallan did not count his conquest of her as a victory. She had to make clear to Hallan as soon as possible that he should maintain a respectful distance for the rest of his time at the Angelus. She paced in the library, choosing her words, but she knew she ought not delay too long.

On the elevator down to 2A, her stomach roiled. Not even her best, most practiced cool demeanor would stay in place. When he opened the door, she thought she might have to lean against the wall for support.

His whole body tensed when he saw her. “Vera. Come in, please.”

She followed him into the drawing room, where he sat beside her on the couch.

“Mr. Hallan—”

“You're still calling me that? You can call me Emil,” he said.

She shook her head. “I don't think that would be appropriate, given the circumstances.”

“Given the circumstances? You all really are a strange lot, you know that? You can kiss me, but you can't call me by my first name?”

She glanced around, half by instinct. Still, she would not want his servants hearing and spreading it to any others in the building. “Please. Don't talk about that.”

He dropped his eyes. “I understand. In fact, I'm glad you came. I was going to call on you if you hadn't come down.”

“I really don't mean to lead you on. I shouldn't have done that. And it can never happen again.”

“I know.”

Vera had not expected that. “You know what?”

Hallan stood, running a hand through his hair, then began again. “I know,” he said. “I was wrong to pursue you the way I did, and I offer my apologies.”

Her heart twitched. “Is this about Poppy?”

He laughed dryly. “No, this is certainly not about Poppy. After what happened…” He rubbed his forehead. “It was what I wanted. But I understand, you are a married woman, there are certain expectations. This society you're part of. You can't just dally with any poor old sap who falls for you. You told me I was inappropriate, many times. I couldn't make myself listen. I couldn't bear the thought of not being near you, not having a chance. But I was wrong, and I'm sorry.”

She stared at him. Why was he being so serious, not teasing her? He was not proud of some victory. This was nothing like the man who asked her to dance or flirted at parties. This was the man she met in the art museum. The one who gave her a book of poetry. She did not know how to respond. Fortunately, he continued in the silence.

“So, there it is. I'll leave you alone, I promise. No more silliness.” He breathed deeply. “I could see it in your eyes, the torment. I don't want to put you through that.”

Vera stood and took a few slow steps toward him. “You would do that? You'll leave me be, you won't pursue me anymore?”

“I will. I know that's what you want, what you need, so I will.”

She covered her mouth, closing her eyes briefly. “I can't believe it.”

“Is something else wrong?” he asked.

She opened her eyes. “This isn't just a game to you. I thought—I thought you were only…only playing.”

He grazed her cheek with his fingertips. “No.”

“You truly care. You care what I want, what I need.”

“I do.”

The dam burst inside her, all of the loneliness and hunger spilling out and flooding her chest. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him, loosing the fire running through her veins. He slid his arms around her waist, but leaned back.

“But I thought you couldn't,” he said. “I thought you would want—”

“I want you,” she said.

His eyes lit up. “Then you have me.”

He kissed her neck, then her collarbone, as she closed her eyes once more. A long, shaky sigh escaped her at the feel of his mouth on her skin. She slid her hands under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders.

“Is anyone home?” she asked.

“Anna doesn't come back until this afternoon. Michael is out,” Hallan said. He looked over his shoulder to the hall, then back to her. She nodded. He led her to the bedroom, and shut the door behind them.

She fumbled to undo the buttons on his shirt, but he pulled it off over his head. A sudden nervousness came over her as he stepped around behind her and started unbuttoning her dress. It had been a long while, too long, since a man had seen her undressed. What if he decided when he saw her that he did not want her?

He kissed the back of her neck, and her shoulders relaxed. She let the dress fall to the floor, and stood in her slip and stockings. Thin as she was naturally, she had no need of the binding undergarments other women used to achieve a boyish slenderness.