"I'm glad to have found you alone," he said, sitting too close to me on the settee. "I have some news that I'm afraid will be most distressing. I've just had a letter from our ambassador to Egypt. He wrote that he has learned that the Englishman rumored to be wandering about in the bush turned up in Cairo nearly a month ago. He was a missionary by the name of Thomas Tresham."
I did not speak for several minutes, first, because I felt that it lent a certain credence to my position as widow with ambivalent feelings toward her husband. More important, I needed to control my anger. I had talked to Lord Lytton not four hours earlier. He had told me in no uncertain terms that it would be months before anything could be determined about Philip's fate and that I should not count on ever receiving confirmation from Africa. Rumors, like the ones I had heard, had very little chance of being either proved or completely discounted.
"Philip is dead," I said at last, matter-of-factly.
"Yes, my dear, he is." I had no doubt that on this point he was telling the truth. Although this was not entirely a surprise, hearing the words spoken made me feel as if I had received a violent blow. There was no small hope left to which I could cling. I had been led to believe that my husband was alive because it furthered Andrew's plans, whatever they had been. Now that he believed he might have a chance at marrying me, it served his purpose to leave Philip dead. I wanted to sob, to mourn again the man whose love I had never appreciated, but knew that I could not do so at present. Instead I raised my head slowly, looked at Andrew, and smiled.
"Will you think me very bad if I tell you that I am most relieved?" As I said this, I could not help but remember that relief was in fact the emotion I had felt when I had originally learned that my husband was dead.
"I understand your reasons completely," he assured me, taking my hand in his. "You have already mourned him once, Emily. You need not feel further obligation to such a man."
"Yes, such a man," I said, wondering at the ease with which Andrew disparaged his friend. "I am glad you were the one to tell me, Andrew. I'm afraid I find myself most obligated to you."
"You owe me nothing," he said, looking at me in a most unnerving fashion. Clearly he felt I owed him everything. I did not like how close he was to me, and I rose from my seat.
"I must turn again to Balzac. 'When women love us, they forgive us everything, even our crimes; when they do not love us, they give us credit for nothing, not even our virtues.' I have been guilty of overlooking your true character, Andrew. My misguided love for Philip kept me from seeing it."
"Do you credit me my virtues now, Emily?" he asked, walking toward me. I backed away.
"I believe I do, Andrew," I said, almost whispering, trying to ignore an overwhelming feeling of nausea. "When I think of the opportunities I have thrown away..." I let my voice trail off and daintily placed a hand on my forehead. "I think I shall make plans to visit Margaret in America as soon as possible. Traveling always makes it easier to forget." My head still lowered, I raised my eyes to look at him. His expression brought to mind a hunter readying to fire at his prey.
"I did not plan to give you this so soon," he said, removing something from his coat pocket. "I needed more time-" He stopped abruptly. "But perhaps it is best that you have it now, if you will agree to accept it."
I took the small parcel he presented to me, knowing full well what I would find when I opened it: Monsieur Fournier's lovely ring.
"Oh, Andrew! How did you ever persuade Monsieur Fournier to part with it?" I gushed, hoping I looked appropriately awestruck.
"I can claim no great skill in the matter. He sold it to a dealer several months ago. All I had to do was track it down. Dare I hope that you will take it?"
"I don't know how I could refuse," I said, slipping the ring onto my finger.
"Of course," he said, pausing, smiling in his most devilish manner, "you cannot expect to have it for nothing." I laughed nervously, recalling a time when I had taken great pleasure in that smile.
"Are you going to beg another kiss?"
"No, Emily, I will not be satisfied so easily. I want you to be my wife."
I had expected this and knew how I must respond, but the thought of entering into any arrangement with this man, even a false and temporary one, revolted me.
"Marry you, Andrew?"
"You said only three days ago that you would marry the first man who could present you with this ring."
"Surely you didn't think I was serious?" I was not going to allow him to get his way so easily.
"As you can see, I did," he said. I saw anger begin to cloud his good humor. "I assure you I wouldn't have gone to such lengths to satisfy you if I did not." I let him stand there, stupidly, for a moment before replying, watching him wonder whether he was going to succeed in getting my fortune.
"I had little hope that you would renew your suit after having been so abominably refused," I said coyly.
"Did you think my feelings so fickle?"
"I feared you would despise me after you learned what I know about Philip and how I have hidden the facts."
"I would forgive you anything, even your crimes," he said, smiling once more.
"Again, you tell me news that brings me great relief," I said, looking at the ring and twisting it anxiously on my finger. "I would like very much to keep the ring."
I let my eyes meet his and smiled demurely, tacitly accepting his odious proposal. He took me forcefully by the shoulders and kissed me hard on the lips. I could barely keep myself from pushing him away. Happily, he did not pursue the endeavor for long, stepping back from me and sitting down.
"It would be best, my dear girl, if we did not tell our general acquaintance of our understanding at present. Wear the ring as much as you like when you are with me and when you are alone, but not in public. Such a striking piece would be certain to draw attention, and I do not want anyone to think I have sought to win your affections while you are still in mourning. I would not have your reputation so tarnished."
My reputation? He did not want me to wear the ring where Fournier might see it; he had not been able to get it copied.
"I am nearly out of mourning, Andrew-it's only a matter of weeks. I don't think anyone would take notice."
"You are not to wear it in public, Emily." I did not like his tone.
"Already you consider yourself my master?"
"Yes," he said, smiling and coming back to me. "I shall have to take a firm hand with you. Give me the ring until you can be presented as my fiancée." I could not risk letting him get it from me.
"If you remove it from my hand, I shall not kiss you again until I can be presented as your fiancée," I said, simpering. "Can you wait that long?" I pulled him close to me. He took the bait and kissed me in the most horrendous way, all the while clumsily fondling my neck. My head throbbed.
"I am going to enjoy taking you as my wife," he said, his breath distressingly heavy. I stepped away, backing against the wall. "Your modesty suits you," he said, looking at my crimson face and neck. "A woman should not be too eager." The sound of breaking china came from my bedchamber.
"Oh, dear," I said, my voice trembling. "I'm afraid my maid must have broken something. Will you excuse me, Andrew? I really must see what she has done." Afraid that he would try to kiss me again, I walked quickly toward the door. He picked up his hat and his stick and followed me, kissing only my hand as he took his leave.
"I look forward to seeing you wearing my ring again. I shall call on you tomorrow."
I could not bear the thought of being alone with him. "Not tomorrow, Andrew. I've planned a trip to Versailles."