Free Invincible by Joan Johnston Page A

again.
    â€œYou know Bull,” Foster continued. “He does what he wants. If he comes, he’ll be on the jet from Paris with my girls. He thought it would be a good chance to see all the kids.”
    Bella heard the rest of Foster’s thought without it being spoken: He’s not coming here to see you. Bull Benedict wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire. It wasn’t exaggerating to say that she and Bull had fought their own Revolutionary War during the ten years they’d been separated.
    â€œThe condition his European banks are in with thiscrazy global economy, I doubt he can get away.” Foster set down his coffee cup. “I’d better get going, or I’ll be late.”
    Bella exhaled audibly when Foster left the room. She glanced at Emily, who was eyeing her worriedly, and shook her head to indicate she was fine. The young woman was acting like a mother hen with one chick. Bella didn’t bother repeating that she was fine. She simply rose and headed for the stairs. Climbing that enormous staircase was great exercise. And she needed time alone in her room to think.
    If she and Bull were going to be in the same room again, she should take advantage of the opportunity to explain what she’d kept secret for so many years.
    Maybe, at long last, she would.

6
    â€œH ello, Bull.”
    â€œHello, Duchess.”
    Bella felt her heart flutter when Bull called her Duchess. It had been his pet name for her during their marriage, spoken with tenderness and love. He’d rarely used it after they’d separated. Right now it sounded…so very good. She waited for the snide or snarly comment that usually followed, turning their post-separation encounters into a cat and dog fight.
    It didn’t come.
    She eased back into the Adirondack chair situated on the sunny bank of the James River, where both families had gathered for a Mother’s Day picnic, and gestured him into the chair beside her. “Would you like to join me?”
    â€œHow are you?” he asked as he stooped under a colorful umbrella and slid into the slatted wooden lawn chair beside her.
    Such an innocent question. How should she answer it? She felt the tension gather in her shoulders just fromsitting so close to Bull. Felt her heart begin the ridiculous pitty-pat that proximity to this masterful, passionate man always caused. She looked into his sky-blue eyes and opened her mouth to tell him the truth. What came out was, “I’m fine.”
    His gaze roamed her face. “You look a little pale. I didn’t see you at Cote D’Azur or Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat over the winter. What have you been doing with yourself?”
    I skipped a holiday on the French Riviera this year because I was getting a lot of medical tests. You see, my heart is failing. I’m slowly—but surely—dying.
    Bella thought the words. They never made it out of her mouth. She’d heard the subtle insinuation in Bull’s voice. The mocking suggestion that she’d been hiding out with yet another lover. The truth stuck in her throat.
    Lies came so much easier. At the beginning of their marriage, lies had been necessary. The truth would have destroyed everything.
    Unfortunately, lying had become the easy way to keep peace between them. It was difficult to believe she could tell the truth now and not have it turned against her. But she’d already lost Bull. When the most important thing in her life was gone, what did she have to lose?
    â€œTo be honest, Bull, I’m—”
    Before she could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by Foster’s three teenage girls. They rushed up to her Adirondack chair and grabbed her hands and arms, pulling her to her feet.
    â€œCome and join us, Aunt Bella,” one of the twins urged. “We’re going canoeing.”
    Bella was already standing by the time she said, “No, thank you, girls. I prefer to enjoy the James River from its banks,