The Echo of Old Books(94)

Ethan was frowning, pulling thoughtfully at his lower lip. “I’m still not clear about how both books—Hemi’s and the one you wrote—ended up in my father’s study.”

“I’m getting to that,” Marian replied tightly. She lifted her cup, sipping daintily, then carefully returned it to its saucer. “When I finished Forever, and Other Lies, I sent it to one of those places that will print your book for you. I sent Hemi’s book with it and asked them to make mine look just like his. It cost a pretty penny too. As soon as it came back, I sent both books to Dickey and asked him to mail them back to Hemi—as a set. I’m not sure why. I suppose I wanted him to know I could give as good as I got.”

Ashlyn tried to imagine Hemi’s reaction when he opened the package containing both books. “And how did he respond?”

Marian eyed her without expression. “He didn’t.”

“Not a word?”

She shrugged. “He’d vented his spleen and I’d done the same. What else was there to say?”

Ethan looked confused. “If my father did as you asked and sent them to Hemi, how did they end up back in his study?”

Marian’s expression darkened and she shifted in her chair. “A few years later, Hemi phoned Dickey out of the blue and asked if the two of them could meet for a drink. Dickey should have known better, but he agreed. Naturally, I came up in the conversation. He told Dickey that we’d made plans to run away together but that I’d backed out because I was too proud to marry a man with nothing. It wasn’t true, of course. Dickey, of all people, should have known that. He knew better than anyone what losing Hemi had cost me.” She paused, shaking her head sadly. “Deep down, he meant well. He always meant well.”

“But?”

She shrugged. “But he broke his promise.”

Ethan still looked confused. “What was the promise?”

“Your father and I had an agreement. We made it one day after a ferocious argument. He’d been pestering me about the past, about how things had ended with Hemi. He thought I was being too harsh. Unreasonable, he called me. And cruel. Me . . . cruel.” She paused, shaking her head as if baffled. “After everything, he still believed there was a way to go back and fix things. I didn’t want his opinion, not about that. I told him that if we were to remain friends, he must promise never to mention Hemi’s name to me again. Unfortunately, the promise I extracted said nothing about him speaking my name to Hemi.

“When Hemi called, Dickey let it slip that I was scheduled to speak at a conference in Boston the next day, and that afterward, we planned to meet for lunch. At least he said it was a slip. At any rate, Hemi wrangled an invitation. Your father agreed, promising to bow out when I arrived. I imagine he thought we’d sip champagne, look into each other’s eyes, and live happily ever after, the silly, romantic fool. But when you’re happy in love, you think everyone else should be too. Thank heavens for technical difficulties, or who knows what kind of scene there might have been.”

“What happened?”

“There was a problem with the hotel’s slide projector and we were late getting started. I called the restaurant to let Dickey know I’d been held up. When I asked the hostess if Richard Hillard had already been seated, she said yes, both gentlemen had already arrived. When I questioned her, she described Dickey’s guest as a tall, good-looking British fellow . . . and I knew.

“I asked her to call your father to the phone. He didn’t even bother to deny it. In fact, he tried to convince me to come anyway. I was livid. I never dreamed he would do something so underhanded when he knew . . .” Marian abruptly fell silent, as if she’d said more than intended.

She toyed with a heavy garnet ring on her right hand, spinning it slowly, mindlessly around her finger. “He knew how it was after Hemi left,” she said finally, her voice low and filled with pain. “He knew . . . everything. Which is why I was astonished that he could betray me in that way. He was always testing me, trying to soften the ground, but I never dreamed he’d go behind my back that way. At least I was spared the business at the restaurant.”

“You didn’t go?” Ashlyn asked.

The question seemed to astonish her. “Why on earth would I go? I told him I hoped they’d both choke on their soup and I hung up. He called me that night and tried to fix things. I probably would have forgiven him if he hadn’t started in again, pushing Hemi at me, insisting I call him. He wouldn’t let it go. We fought again. A week later, he called to tell me Hemi had gone back to England but that he’d left both books with him, asking that they be given to me. I told him he could burn them for all I cared, and I hung up. It was the last time we spoke.”

Ethan looked stunned. “That’s why the two of you stopped talking? Because of the books?”

“It wasn’t about the books, Ethan. It was about loyalty. Your father set me up to be ambushed.”

Ethan folded his napkin carefully and laid it on the table. “It was lunch in a public place, not a dark alley in a shady part of town. I don’t think he saw it as an ambush.”

“You don’t understand.” Marian’s cup had begun to rattle in its saucer. She set it down carefully and dropped her eyes to her lap. “To look him in the eye after so many years. After all the lies, all the deception.” Her voice fell to a near whisper. “It wasn’t possible.”