The Bed You Make
Chapter 45, concluded
Dara was thankful when Stefan rescued the teacup from her lifeless fingers. She could barely think, much less concentrate on balancing a steaming cup of tea. "Please tell me," her eyes squeezed shut, "that I didn't touch it. I mean, tell me that I didn't-"
"-molest me where I stood? No."
Something in the tenor of Stefan's voice drew Dara's gaze to his. His lips were curved in the suggestion of a smile. "You're messing with me, aren't you, Stefan? That didn't happen!"
"It most assuredly did. But not as you have concluded," he admitted. "The man part in question was a particular character aspect you found admirable."
"Oh." Dara sagged in relief. "Well, I can believe that. There's a lot about you that I find admirable ... and attractive."
Silence followed Dara's unexpected statement. Stefan was a little surprised at the confession. He awaited the disclaimer that certainly would follow such a revelation. "Oh, no, I admit it, Stefan. I find you attractive. Though what that means in the grand scheme of things is anyone's guess."
Stefan found himself at a loss for a suitable reply. Just because he had begun to expect his wife to do the unexpected did not mean that it did not continue to stop him in his tracks. "My reaction to the Countess's behavior gave me a lot to think about," Dara admitted honestly. "A couple of really important unanswered questions. Do you think," she continued softly, "that we can have an honest discussion - a totally honest discussion?"
"I believe the question you wish to pose," Stefan countered, "is whether I am capable of such a discourse."
Dara's silence was Stefan's confirmation. "If it is an honest discussion you wish ... " He dipped his head in a silent gesture of consent then offered the lawyer his hand and led her to the Victorian-style chaise lounge near the fireplace. "Begin."
Dara took a deep breath. Stefan studied his wife's face, fascinated by the play of emotions that danced across her face too fast for him to decipher. "Tell me," Dara finally asked in a rush of breath, "about your mistresses."
Stefan blinked, as though the simple act would allow enough time for his disconcerted brain to jumpstart out of its frozen condition. "My mistresses?"
Dara nodded. "Yes. I know that you have had several over the years."
"Philip has been quite ... generous with his information." Stefan could not keep the censure from his voice. "What else, I wonder, has my cousin chosen to share with you?"
"Chef Philip didn't say anything about this to me," Dara shrugged. "Nikolas told me. He wanted me to know..." Her voice trailed off uncertainly.
"Yes?" Stefan prodded gently. He was extremely curious about what Dara hesitated to say.
Dara squared her shoulders. "Nikolas needed me to believe that you were capable of sharing your life with a woman, however casually."
Stefan didn't know which aspect of his wife's statement to address first. He finally settled on the topic of his nephew. "Nikolas spoke to you of my personal arrangements?" Stefan ignored the sudden half-smile Dara was not quite able to hide. "What did he say?"
Dara regarded Stefan with amusement. "That your first reaction would be shock over the fact that he knew you'd had mistresses over the years. You went out of your way, he said, to shelter him from such facts."
"Is that all that my nephew said?"
"No. He said that even though you'd had several mistresses throughout the years, you were never involved with more than one at a time. That he believed you treated them well and with respect, and that you were generous with your gifts to them." Dara stood abruptly. "Do you think we're capable of that, Stefan? Are we capable of genuine friendship and regard between us?"
