He waited.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” she finally said.
He nodded. “I dare say you planned it that way.”
She pressed her lips together.
Merritt leaned against the stone wall, despite its frigidity. “Why did you leave? No word, no letter . . . if you left one, I never saw it—”
“No letter,” she whispered.
“Your parents said nothing except that you’d gone to school. They wouldn’t even say where.” Like they’d shared his father’s desire to be rid of him.
She swallowed. “Oberlin.” Her voice was no louder than a falling leaf. “Oberlin College.”
He could have tracked her down, if he’d known that. Perhaps it was better that he hadn’t. He scraped his brain for something to say. “That’s . . . good. You’d always wanted the education.”
Ebba lifted her chin, but she still didn’t meet his eyes. The lights from the windows highlighted tears on her lashes.
He thought to reach out to her but kept his hands in his pockets. “Ebba—”
“I left because I was ashamed.” Tears leaked into her voice. “Because I didn’t know how else to do it.”
Merritt shook his head, not understanding. “I said . . . we were going to move, remember? Where no one knew us—”
“Not because of that.” She dabbed her eyes with the hood of her cloak. “But you’re right. You deserve to know. And it can be off my conscience, after tonight.”
One of the drivers called out. Ebba waved an arm but didn’t turn.
“Your father paid for me to go to Oberlin,” she confessed.
Merritt leaned back like he’d been pushed. “My father? Why?” And why hide it?
She drew in a deep breath. Found a spot on Merritt’s shoulder and pinned her gaze to it. “It was a bribe, Merritt.”
He still didn’t understand.
Her jaw worked. “It was a bribe. Not all of it. I did . . .” She cleared her throat. “I did care for you then. But he hated you. Said you always reminded him . . . that you were a ‘symbol’ of your mother’s unfaithfulness . . .”
Merritt stepped back and brought up his hands. “Wait. Wait. What do you mean, my mother’s unfaithfulness?”
Now she met his eyes. Her lips parted. The driver called.
“You don’t know?” she asked.
“Know what?” His head was throbbing. “Know what?”
“That you’re a bastard, Merritt!”
The silence of the night seeped around him like oil after the outburst. His ears rang. His skin pimpled. Nausea curled in his bowels.
She wiped her eyes again. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t have time—”
“He disowned me because I’m not . . . his?” he murmured.
Her eyes glistened.
He couldn’t process it. “Then whose am I?”
“I don’t know.” She glanced back to the carriages. Her cheekbones became pronounced as she pressed her lips together, readying to deliver another blow. “He offered to send me to Oberlin if I . . . if I faked a pregnancy.”
Merritt’s stomach sunk. He felt transported back thirteen years. Ebba had been awfully forward that night . . .
“I never was pregnant.”
He swallowed. “I-I know. Your parents said . . .”
“You were eighteen. That’s the only reason I can think for why he approached me then. You were old enough to go off on your own. He faced no legal repercussions for cutting you off.”
Ice to the marrow, he shook his head, although not in disbelief.
The driver called.
Ebba turned away.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Venom burned his tongue. “You didn’t think to tell me that my father played me like . . . like a chess pawn?”
Tears ran down her cheeks. “I promised not to say a word.”
“Promised?” He was shouting now. “You also promised to marry me! You said you loved me, and then you pulled . . . this?”
She was readily crying now. The clarinetist and his crony were quickly approaching. “I’m sorry, Merritt. I had to make a choice.”
“And you did,” he spat. “You made that choice at my expense. I lost everything, Ebba. I haven’t seen or spoken to my mother and sisters in thirteen years. You lied to me and tore my heart out for what, a flute?”
“It’s not like that,” she countered. “You could never understand.”