Broken Dove
Page 32

He was also done with his food. As I watched, he refreshed his glass and set the bottle down. Then he twisted his chair a bit from the table and sat back. After that, he stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his feet at the ankle. He nabbed his wineglass, held it before him in both hands and tipped his chin down.
Then he settled.
He appeared to be contemplating his boots.
And it appeared this contemplation was brooding.
Hmm.
He must have felt my eyes because, before I could look away, he turned his head to me.
“The men, they call you Maddie,” he announced.
I briefly considered ignoring him, but for reasons unknown to me, I didn’t.
“Yes,” I confirmed.
“I explained the story we’re telling about you being here,” he stated and I fought looking around to see if anyone was close enough to hear as I nodded. “Obviously, you’ll need a name that’s not Ilsa. Is this what you wish to be called?”
Instantly and strangely, his question lightened something in my chest. It was as if my lungs were twisted but I’d lived with it so long, I didn’t even notice it was making it hard for me to breathe.
And just as instantly as that relief settled through my chest, it occurred to me why.
Right there, in that restaurant and for the foreseeable future, I was back where I started, depending on and thus controlled by a handsome, wealthy, powerful man.
But that didn’t mean my life wasn’t new.
I’d never given much thought to my name, after, of course, I grew up. It was unusual and growing up with an unusual name, kids sometimes being mean, well, it sucked.
After that, it was just a name. A name my parents gave to me and after I screwed up royally and married Pol, it was the only thing I had left of them.
But I’d screwed up royally. And when it finally dawned on me that I was in a very bad situation and it was getting worse, I’d left Pol.
And my father had told me not to come crying back to him when I figured it out.
Of course, when I figured it out and needed safe haven, I went crying back to him.
Literally.
He shut the door in my face.
Twice.
And he, and Mom, had hung up on me. And they’d done it so many times, I’d lost count.
Who did that to their daughter?
I’d f**ked up, definitely.
But to shut me out forever just because I fell in love with the wrong man and made a stupid, headstrong decision at the age of twenty-three?
“Ilsa?” Apollo prompted and I jumped, coming out of my thoughts and looking to him.
“Do you have the name Madeleine in this world?” I asked.
“Yes,” he answered.
“Then that’s who I’ll be. Madeleine. Maddie,” I declared, and his brows drew slightly together and his gaze grew more intense as I did it.
I knew why.
It was a declaration. Firm. Definite. Inflexible.
It didn’t exactly need to be that strong a declaration.
But it absolutely was.
Once I’d made it, I wanted to cheer. To get up and dance. For some reason, it felt like I’d slithered out of old tired worn-out skin and been born anew and I had so much energy and excitement bubbling inside me, it was hard to keep my seat.
“Madeleine,” he murmured, again capturing my attention, and his rich deep voice smoothing over that beautiful name sent a shiver sliding up my back.
Crap.
Maybe I should have picked Agnes.
On that thought, he surprised me by remarking, “You’ve noted they knew her here.”
I rolled my lips together and nodded.
“She was here often. I’ve also been to this village more than once over the years,” he continued and that confused me.
It confused me because it inferred she had been here without him.
Pol never let me go anywhere without him.
Apollo was not Pol, but it wasn’t easy getting places here and it wasn’t like this village was around the corner and she could just hop in a sleigh, come here for tea and be back for dinner.
Since he seemed okay talking about her, I ventured, “Did she come from around here?”
“We lived most of the year at Karsvall.”
That didn’t un-confuse me.
“Are you saying she’d travel without you?”
“Frequently,” he replied, and that surprised me.
He looked away, took a sip from his wine and again contemplated his boots but he kept talking.
“I’ve many enterprises, and due to them, travel widely. Sometimes, she would come with me. Sometimes, she’d stay here. Usually, when she stayed here, it was because there was someone in need of her care. And she would travel from Karsvall somewhat broadly in order to do that, a days’ ride away. Even three days’ ride.”
Curiosity at his words pushed me to ask, “Someone in her care?”
He again looked at me. “She was a physician.”
Oh boy.
Dear, departed, pined for, beloved, fabulous Ilsa was a doctor in this world.
I had a Bachelor of Arts degree with a major in medieval history. My last job was as a salesperson in the handbag and accessories department of an exclusive department store. Other than that, I hadn’t worked, or done much of anything, for nearly twelve years.
I felt something lodge in my throat and forced around it, “That’s…um, impressive.”
He looked back to his boots and murmured, “She was, indeed, that.”
I took a sip of wine and looked anywhere but him, not liking what I was feeling. Also not entirely understanding it, but definitely knowing I didn’t like it. It wasn’t pain, but it still felt like an ache.
He seemed unwilling to move in order to, say, go back to the hotel and put me out of the misery of this conversation.
And I felt uncomfortable sitting there staring at the floor so I asked conversationally, “Is it usual for a woman in this world to be a doctor?”
“No,” he told his boots. “A midwife, yes. An herbalist. A plant healer. Even an apothecary. But a physician, no.”
I nodded even if he wasn’t looking at me.
He said nothing.
“Uh…just saying, I thought you mentioned Ulfr women didn’t work,” I noted.
“I’ll amend that,” he again told his boots. “She worked, and she was dedicated to her work, but she didn’t get paid.”
A doctor who didn’t seek payment?
I thought it but I didn’t ask it.
He didn’t share further.
I took another sip of my wine, thinking of Ilsa gallivanting across the snow, doing good deeds as I leaned back in my chair and tried not to focus on anyone giving me strange looks, on Apollo, on anything (including Ilsa doing good deeds) as I worried my lip.