“Roberto darling, it is not your responsibility. For all you know I’ve been sweetheart to the regiment.” (We’ve tried, haven’t we, twin!) (Don’t joggle my elbow, dear; he wants to be noble.) “It’s my baby. Who helped me is my business.”
‘‘Sorry.”
“I meant that you mustn’t feel any responsibility. If you did help me, I’m grateful. I’m grateful even if you didn’t. Roberto? Instead of trying to make an honest woman out of me—difficult—why don’t you remove that implant from Winnie’s pretty thigh, then place another sort of implant where it will do the most good. . . then make an honest woman out of her. Much easier, she leans that way.”
“It’s a thought. Truthfully it’s a thought I’ve considered quite a lot lately. But she doesn’t want to leave you.”
“She need not. Oh, she could stop pretending to be my maid, but this is a big old barn, several spare suites. If you get her pregnant, she and I could chum and giggle about it and have our babies almost together. I’ll shut up and stop trying to run your life. Two questions—I had planned to go out on the town tonight, to celebrate the good news I expected to hear from you. Must I stick to soft drinks now?”
“Not at all. Shortly we’ll put you on a diet and limit your drinking. But tonight you could get stinking drunk and the only effect would be a hangover. You don’t lose a baby that easily. . . as millions of women have learned.”
“May not get stinking but I may soak up several glasses of bubbly. Last question— if you’re able to sign off, would it suit you to lose a night’s sleep helping me celebrate?
Officially it’s to celebrate our court victory. That ‘the Greeks have captured Athens’ will stay secret a while longer.”
“Uh—“
“You sound fretted, dear.”
“Well, to tell the truth I have a date with Winnie.”
“Oh! I expressed myself badly. 1 have a date with Jake; I hope that you and Winnie can make it a four. I wasn’t asking you to spend a night with me in that sense—although I certainly would not be averse if it could be managed some other time without hurting our Winsome. The moments you and I have been able to steal have been too short, dear. I think you are a man it would be sweet to be leisurely with.”
“I know that you are such a woman, Eunice.”
“Go along with you, you tell that to all your female patients. Doctor, you are a delightful wolf. Will you wait ten minutes before phoning Winnie? I have a favor I want to ask of her.”
“Ten minutes.”
“Thank you, Roberto. Off.”
Joan switched to the house intercom. “Winnie? Are you busy, dear?”
“Just reading. Be right in.”
Joan met her at their connecting door. “Nothing much, hon. I want you to call O’Neil and tell him that I wish to speak to Finchley. In my lounge. Sure, I could phone O’Neil myself, sweet, but I want it to look more formal.”
“Sure, Joanie. Do I stay and chaperon?”
“Winsome, you know darn well that all I ever want is fake chaperonage—and sometimes a jigger. This time I don’t need a jigger—but I do want to ask Finchley something privately and he will speak more freely if you aren’t around. So let him into my lounge, come tell me he has arrived, and don’t come back in. Go on into your own room and close the door. Then stay there—you are going to receive a phone call in about eight minutes.”
“I am?”
“Yes, and a nice one. You and I and Jake and Dr. Garcia are going nightclubbing tonight.”
“Oh!”
“And when we get home just keep him here the rest of the night and I’ll see to it that Jake doesn’t twig. Or does he know who ‘Bob’ is?”
“Uh . . . yes, he does. I told him.”
“It may still suit dear Doctor to cover up; men are shy. Now skedaddle, dear, and phone O’Neil.”
Four minutes later Winnie announced Finchley, and left the lounge. He said, “You sent for me, Miss?”