Free Duet for Three Hands by Tess Thompson

that might make her forgive him and maybe someday like him once again? There was nothing. That was the bitter truth. He had betrayed her trust. Would there ever be a way back? Please, God, let it be so , he prayed silently.
    When he arrived at the table, Mrs. Bellmont looked up, smiling in a way that didn’t reach her eyes. She was dressed tastefully, a gray gown with a modest scoop neckline falling at her collarbones and ash-blonde hair arranged perfectly around her pretty face were in direct contradiction to her red and puffy eyes. He’d made her cry. It was almost too much to bear.
    The waiter pulled out his chair, and Nathaniel sat. His throat tightened. Could he speak? But right away something came out of his mouth. “Mrs. Bellmont, I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances.”
    “Yes.” She sounded tired, like she hadn’t slept for nights. “It diminishes our last delightful encounter somewhat.”
    “I know.” He looked at his hands. “I’m ashamed and can only say in my defense that I fell in love with her at first sight. I’m powerless to resist her.”
    Her face softened. “Yes, I can see that.”
    “Mrs. Bellmont, I’ll spend a lifetime trying to make her happy.”
    She cocked her head to one side. “Frances can be difficult. She expects a lot. I hope it won’t prove too much for you.”
    “It won’t be, Mrs. Bellmont. We’ll be a family. There’ll be a baby. Think of that.”
    She looked down at the table and then up at him, her eyes alive for the first time since he’d sat down with her. “I hadn’t thought much of the baby, only how it came to be, but yes, there will be a baby. A baby to love.”
    “Mrs. Bellmont, please say you’ll forgive me someday. I’ll do anything to win your affection.”
    Her eyes went wide. “Oh, Mr. Fye, yes, I forgive you. I’m married to Frank Bellmont. I understand how these things happen.”
    What did this mean? Had they married under the same circumstance?
    She twirled her knife in a clockwise motion—once, twice, three times. “The force of his personality has a way of making life turn in unexpected directions. Frances is the same. Anyway, we’ll all be the better with you in our family, no matter how you’ve come to us.”
    He felt a lump developing in the back of his throat as he pulled from his pocket the ring he’d purchased earlier and handed it to her. “I’ve bought this for Frances. Do you think she’ll like it?”
    She held it between her thumb and finger. The round diamond sparkled in the overhead lights like rays of sunshine as she handed it back to him. “It’s beautiful. Frances will love it.” She straightened the knife so that it was in the correct position before meeting his gaze. “It’s important we keep the details of Frances’s condition from Mr. Bellmont. I’m not sure what he would do.” She shivered and hunched forward as if cold, folding her arms over her chest and causing the neckline of her dress to shift momentarily, revealing her neck and chest just below her collarbones. He stifled a gasp. A purple bruise hovered just below her left collarbone. He blinked, unsure if he was correct. Was it a bruise the size of a fist? Yes, and she’d tried to cover it with powder, but it was no use. Oh, Mrs. Bellmont, he thought. What hell do you live through? But he knew. Mr. Bellmont was a violent man. Had he ever hurt Frances?
    She must have caught him staring because she straightened and tugged at the neckline, smoothing it across her collarbones.
    He felt sick to his stomach. The worry he’d caused her from his lack of restraint was unforgiveable. He leaned forward. “I can marry her tomorrow.”
    “No, that won’t do. Frank will assume the worst unless we have a real wedding. When the baby comes, we’ll all pretend he came early. It’s an old trick. People have done it for centuries.” The waiter came to take their order. “Nathaniel, will you order something for me? Anything’s fine.”
    Nathaniel