Page 74

I wasn't just silent. I was fighting back tears. I had a great urge to jump up and run, but he didn't seem angry. He still had that impish smile around his lips, a smile of amusement.

"I'm not someone with a mad crush on you or anything," I finally said

"Well, I'm happy to hear that. For your sake, I mean," he quickly added when I looked up at him. "Those sort of things are never good for either party, especially if one is an old married man with children"

"You're not that old," I said.

"You know my age?" he asked. I didn't answer, "You know more about me than I think, is that it?"

"Yes."

"This mystery is moving into melodrama, Miss Arnold. Can't you give me a little more concrete information about it, another clue, perhaps?"

You want clues, I thought, all right. I'll give you clues. "My grandmother's name is Hudson," I said sharply.

"Frances Hudson, and her husband's name was Everett." He stared, barely a movement in his face.

"The Hudsons of Virginia?" he finally asked.

"Yes."

"Frances Hudson is your grandmother?"

"Yes."

"Are you telling me you're Megan Hudson's daughter?" he finally asked.

"That's what I'm telling you."

Again, it was his turn to be silent. He sat back, his eyes growing larger and then growing smaller as he focused more closely on me and nodded.

"I can see the resemblances to Megan," he said softly. "How old areyou?"

"Eighteen," I said.

He started to lift his teacup and then set it down. He shook his head and looked away.

"This can't be," he muttered. He turned back to me. "Did Megan send you here to find me?"

"No. She has no idea I've found you," I said. "She had told me your name and that you had gone to London to study Shakespeare and teach. A friend of mine at school made it almost a game to locate you for me. I didn't want him to do it, but he did and sorry," I said. "I won't bother you anymore." I started to get up and he reached across the table quickly to stop me.

"No, wait. Please," he said.

I sat.

"When Megan became pregnant, she left and I was of the understanding she was giving the child away for adoption. You are that child?"

"My grandfather paid someone to take me, if that's what you mean," I said. "His name was Ken Arnold and I was brought up as his daughter. Latisha Arnold was the only mother I knew until relatively recently. We lived in Washington, D.C. Ken Arnold was never much of a father to me or to his own children. He and his son Roy got into fights

constantly. Roy is in the army now. Latisha died of cancer a few months ago. Before she did, she made sure I was taken care of by contacting my real mother, who arranged for me to live with my grandmother?'

I recited my history quickly and took a breath. Despite his poise, he looked bowled over, speechless, and for a college professor, that was something.

"I see. Wow," he said, shaking his head, "what a difficult life you've had. This is very complicated." He thought a moment. "Megan must be married, I'm sure."

"Yes. To an important lawyer. She has a daughter and a son. None of them, except for Grandmother Hudson and her other daughter Victoria, know the truth about me. Yet," I added.

Once again, he simply stared at me.