32
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, Deirdre entered the Fullmans’ dining room to the enticing aroma of eggs and sausage. She poured herself a cup of coffee from the silver service on the side table. As she took the first sip, her thoughts circled back to Matthew and the wonderful moment where they had shared a hug of congratulations after the verdict, recalling the joy and relief that had quivered through every cell in his body as he’d embraced her. She’d never felt more in tune with another human being.
Unfortunately, the connection didn’t last, and when they left the court to pick up Phoebe, it seemed Matthew had stored his emotions safely behind his wall of reserve once again. After a celebratory dinner in this very dining room, Matthew had bid her a polite good night and asked what time to expect her in the morning.
Now that this crisis was over, where did it leave them?
She’d spent sleepless hours last night going over Matthew’s every word, every gesture, every facial expression in an attempt to determine where their relationship stood, but she hadn’t been able to draw any conclusion. If he’d given her any indication that he returned her feelings, she might not feel so awkward to remain in his employ. But the thought of caring for Phoebe every day in Matthew’s home, only to leave each evening when he arrived, seemed the worst sort of torture.
One she wasn’t sure she could bear.
“Good morning, Deirdre. You’re up early this morning.” Uncle Victor’s cheery voice preceded him into the room.
As soon as he took his seat, a maid bustled in to serve him a plate, while another poured his coffee and set it beside him.
Uncle Victor thanked them, then peered at Deirdre as she sipped her coffee. “Are you not eating?”
“Not hungry, I’m afraid.”
“I thought you’d be ecstatic after yesterday’s good news.” His brow furrowed. “But I can see something is troubling you.”
She nodded, her fingers tightening around her cup.
“Is it Matthew?”
She nodded again and set her cup down with a noisy clink. “I don’t know what to do.”
“About what?” He dug into his eggs.
She plucked the linen napkin from the table and ran her fingers over the embroidered flowers. “I promised to help Matthew care for Phoebe until he could hire a new nanny. It seemed the right thing to do at the time, especially since I’d lost my spot in medical school.” She exhaled a tense breath. “But I don’t think I can continue any longer.”
He chewed, eyeing her thoughtfully. “Is it because you’re in love with him?” he asked gently.
The words ripped through her. She squeezed the napkin into a tight ball in her fist. “Yes. But I’m afraid he doesn’t feel the same.”
Uncle Victor shook his head. “He cares for you, Deirdre, mark my words. I’ve never seen Matthew react to any woman as he does to you.”
“Yet he’s determined to remain alone.” She sighed. “And even if he were to declare his feelings, I don’t know what to do about my career. Marrying would mean forfeiting any chance at medical school, yet if I continue with my studies, I’ll have at least five more years to go. It wouldn’t be fair to ask Matthew and Phoebe to wait that long.”
Uncle Victor set down his fork and reached over to engulf her hand with his. “I think some serious soul-searching is in order, my dear.” He gave her hand a light squeeze. “God put Matthew in your path for a reason. Maybe it’s time to figure out why.”
Her throat convulsed with a rush of emotion. She did her best to hold back the threat of tears. “Thank you, Uncle Victor. You may be right.” She pushed away from the table. “And I think some distance is required to do that kind of soul-searching.”
“If you do decide to continue with your career,” he said, “I’d be happy to use my limited influence to find you another medical school.”
She looked into his kindly eyes and walked over to kiss his cheek. “You are a treasure, Uncle Victor. Aunt Maimie is a lucky woman.”
He chuckled. “And doesn’t she know it.”
Later that morning, Deirdre’s stomach churned as she entered Matthew’s house. She’d made her decision, and now she just needed the courage to see it through.
Mrs. Potts greeted her in the foyer and took her coat. She informed Deirdre that Phoebe had already eaten and was playing in her room and that Dr. Clayborne was in the study.
“Thank you, Mrs. Potts. I’ll join him there for a minute before I go up.”
Deirdre paused to steady herself, then headed down the hall.
Seated at his desk, Matthew smiled as she entered the open doorway. “Good morning, Deirdre. You’re here early.” For the first time since Phoebe’s birthday, he looked relaxed, the lines of tension gone from his face.
His happiness normally would have filled her with delight; however, knowing she was about to ruin his good mood made her want to cry.
She took a tentative step inside. “I need to speak with you.”
His smile faded, and he lowered his cup, his brows cinching. “Something is wrong.”
Standing before his desk, she kept her features passive. “Nothing’s wrong. But I’ve come to a decision—one I hope you can respect.”
His frown deepened, and he leaned back in his chair. “What sort of decision?”
With the air thinning in her lungs, she squared her shoulders. “Now that the custody issue is no longer a threat”—she hesitated, then forged ahead—“I’ve decided to return home and see about applying to another medical school.”
Matthew’s eyes glittered like blue ice. “I see.”
“I’m sorry to give you such short notice, but Aunt Maimie has offered to mind Phoebe until you can hire someone. From what Mrs. Potts told me, she had several candidates lined up before I arrived, so I shouldn’t be too hard to replace.” She knew she was prattling on too fast, her nerves getting the best of her.
Without a word, Matthew rose and came around the desk toward her.
Unable to bear the accusing look on his face, Deirdre dropped her gaze to the floor. Her heart pumped painfully in her chest at his nearness. He stood so close she could smell the familiar scent of his sandalwood soap.
“Why?” The tortured tone of that one word shook Deirdre to the core.
“I think you know why,” she whispered. “It will be better for both of us this way.”
“Better for you, but not for Phoebe.” Hurt and anger etched in the lines around his mouth, fueling her guilt.
She took a shallow breath. The pain of abandoning Phoebe cut just as deeply, if not more, than the pain of leaving Matthew. “I’m sorry” was all she could manage.
“What can I do to make you stay?”
For one crazy moment, Deirdre imagined Matthew taking her in his arms, declaring his love for her, and begging her to become his wife.
What would she do?
Her heart jolted with the truth of her answer. She would forfeit all her dreams, all her goals, to become Matthew’s wife.
If only he loved her enough to ask.
She reached into her pocket and withdrew the ring Matthew had given her for their pretend engagement, running her fingers over the gold with a last caress.
“There’s nothing you can do.” She held out the ring to him, finally meeting his gaze when he didn’t move.
The unmasked agony in his eyes nearly buckled her knees.
“Please, just take it,” she said.
His fingers surrounded her hand. “Deirdre, I wish . . .”
She slipped her hand free, leaving the ring in his palm, and stepped back.
“I know. I wish things could be different too.” A lump of raw emotion lodged in her throat. She forced herself to look into his face, if only to memorize his features—the fall of his hair across his brow, the strong jaw, those ever-changing eyes. “I hope you find happiness, Matthew. You and Phoebe will be in my prayers—always.”
He stared at her with a hollowed-out expression. “You will say good-bye to Phoebe before you go.” It was a statement more than a question.
She turned away from the pain in his eyes and exited the room, heading down the hall.
“Miss Deirdre, what are you doing?” Phoebe stood at the foot of the stairs with the doll Deirdre had given her clutched under one arm.
Deirdre pressed her lips together, desperate to keep her emotions at bay for a few more minutes. On legs that shook, she walked toward the tree stand in the hall. “I’m afraid I have to go home, sweetie. Aunt Maimie is going to mind you today.”
Matthew came up beside Phoebe and laid a hand on her shoulders as if to protect her.
From the hurt Deirdre was about to inflict.
Phoebe frowned. “When will you be back?”
“I’m not sure.” She forced a fake smile to her lips as she pulled on her coat. “But you’ll have to come to Irish Meadows soon for another visit.”
The girl’s lip trembled. “I don’t want you to go. Can’t I come with you?”
“No, honey. You have to stay with your daddy and your grandparents.”
“But I want you to stay, too.” With a strangled cry, she pulled away from her father and dashed over to clutch Deirdre by the waist.
Deirdre bent and pulled her into a tight hug. The little-girl scent of talcum powder swirled around her. Hot tears dampened Deirdre’s neck, shattering Deirdre’s heart into tiny pieces. She wished she could stay here with this precious child who needed her. But one glance at Matthew’s rigid frame reminded her why she couldn’t.
“You’re very special to me, honey, and I will always love you. But I have to go back home where I belong.” Tears blurred her vision until she couldn’t hold them back. They rolled down her cheeks and onto Phoebe’s wispy blond curls. Deirdre kissed the top of her head and rose.
With one last tortured look at Matthew, she whirled and ran out the front door.
Not bothering to wait for the chauffeur, Deirdre climbed into the backseat beside her luggage and slammed the door shut. “Take me to Union Station, please.”
“Very good, Miss.”
As the car pulled away, Deirdre twisted on the seat to peer out the rear window.
Only Phoebe stood on the front step, waving as the car drove away.