A bucket of ashes by P.B. RYAN Page A

he added.
    She could not find her tongue.
    “May I?” He asked, gesturing toward the bench.
    She nodded.
    He sat next to her. “Nell, I know when a woman is suffering from the heat, and I know when she’s with child.”
    Shaken, Nell scrambled for a response. Realizing in short order that she was blushing and flustered, she strove to school her features, but it was, of course, too late.
    “It’s true, then,” he said. “I thought so. The nausea and dizziness, the loss of appetite. Your eagerness to be divorced as soon as possible...”
    “Do... Oh, dear God. Do you think Viola suspects?”
    “If she does, she’s keeping it to herself. Does Will know?” He didn’t even question who the baby’s father was.
    She shook her head. Looking up at him, she said, “I wasn’t lying when I told you I’m not his mistress. It wasn’t like that. It was... just once, before he took ship.”
    “Yes, well, he should have taken precautions.”
    “I didn’t think it was necessary. I thought I was... You told me I was probably barren after the miscarriage, so...”
    “Probably
, not definitely.” With a wry smile, he said, “Of course, you never conceived, so I suppose we both assumed... But it would appear that I was the infertile one, eh?”
    This was the first time since the renewal of their acquaintance that either of them had made reference, even obliquely, to the physical intimacy they had once shared. It was as if they’d had an unspoken agreement to pretend that part of their past hadn’t existed—until now.
    Cyril propped his elbows on his knees and rubbed the brim of his hat between his fingers. “I’ve always felt a genuine affection for you, Nell, and a great deal of respect. You have a giving heart, or you never would have... indulged me as you once did. It was a gesture of kindness on your part, but one which I should never have asked of you.”
    “Cyril...”
    “Please let me say this, Nell,” he said without looking up. “I’ve wanted to say this for a long time. When I met you, you’d been savagely abused, you had no place to go. I offered you the protection of my home, and then I...” He shook his head.
    “You’re making it sound as if you took advantage of me,” she said. “It wasn’t like that.”
    “In hindsight, I’m not so sure.” Turning his head to look at her, he said quietly, “Let me do this for you, Nell. I’ll acknowledge your baby as mine, and I’ll take good care of both of you. We can live in Boston, if you like, so that you can be close to Gracie.” Looking down again, he said, “If, um, if you prefer, we can have separate bedrooms, and I promise I won’t expect... anything of that nature. And if, after the baby comes, you choose to divorce me, I won’t contest it or make things difficult for you. All I want is to take care of you, and to legitimize your baby. If you give birth of out of wedlock, your life will be ruined. I can’t let that happen, not after all that’s transpired between us.”
    Bombarded by conflicting emotions, Nell said, “I don’t know what to say, Cyril. What you’re offering is incredibly generous, but I... I...”
    “Has he ever mentioned marriage? Did he offer you any kind of commitment or promise at all before he...”
    “As far as he knew at the time, as far as we both knew, marriage was impossible because Duncan was threatening to ruin me if I divorced him. That’s all changed, but at the time...”
    “Has he told you he loves you?”
    He hadn’t, even that night. “You have to understand, our relationship had been so... so careful for so long. We never talked about how we felt. He was always guarded in what he said and did—for my sake, because I had so much at stake. He only went to France to put some distance between us, because it was so excruciating, our being together but... not being together. The night we... It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did. For him to declare himself when he couldn’t offer me any kind of