Troll was in the hot house later that afternoon. Hilary hurried out to join him, but she wasn’t there to help him with the roses. “Troll?” She pulled off her coat the moment she came in the steamy, sunny glass house. It was quite a contrast on a brisk, windy fall morning. “I need to talk to you!”
“I’m right here, Hilary.” Troll was pruning beautiful orange roses with scarlet tips. “I thought these would look lovely in the house, with all the fall decorations. “What is it?”
“Troll,” she pushed the roses aside. “It’s Pavla who did this to you, isn’t it? Pavla Nemcova. She stole my husband and my leading role, and she’s obviously hurt you, too.”
Troll hesitated before he clipped another perfect rose. “How do you know that name?”
“I know it too well.” She took a pair of shears and started cutting roses. “She stole everything from me - my career, my husband - and left me with nothing but my family and my garden.”
“Your husband.” Troll returned to his roses, trying not to look her in the eye. “Your Jeff?”
Hilary focused on the roses. “I thought he was. We…well, we argued, probably more than any one couple should. He could be infuriatingly stubborn and childish…but he could also be so gentle and caring. We were married in Mexico back in 1926…and divorced in Mexico less than a year later…and then remarried back in Mexico in 1928. I thought the last time was for good, but then…”
Troll clipped another rose. “Then what?”
“Then he went back to Europe.” Hilary hesitated. The betrayals of the past year still hurt. “He and his secretary, Victor Comstock, were broadcasting in England and Germany. Something about the rising threats there.” Her voice caught in her throat. “The last time I saw him was July, after the Frick Mansion soiree. He said he had a surprise for me. I never did find out what it was. She…he left the next morning, and a month later, she…” Her voice caught in her throat.
Troll frowned. “She? Pavla? She came to you?” His voice was steady, but his almond eyes glittered with fury.
She nodded, trying to keep the throb out of her voice. “She came to me at Father’s home in New York in August. Told me she and Jeff had been married in Europe just a week before, and that it was all very above-board. She showed me a letter…” Her voice caught in her throat as she started to clip another rose.
“What letter?” Troll’s claw hovered over a rose. “What letter did she give you?”
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” The hurt was still fresh. She remembered every word of that letter. “She said it was from Jeff. It was a whirlwind romance, she said. He swept her off her feet and into the church. His friends were witnesses. She said…” Her voice caught again. “Everything was official and binding. More than our marriage in Mexico.”
“She lied.” Troll’s deep voice rumbled with fury. “She lied to you. That’s all she knows how to do. It was a performance.” Those familiar dark eyes nearly seared her soul. “She didn’t care about you, or Jeff. She cared about herself.”
Hilary raised an eyebrow. “How do you know?”
“I know.” The growl rose, making the bushes and even the glass tremble. “That witch ruined my life. I had a wife once. I loved my wife dearly. I bought this house for her. For my first wife. She was the light of my life.” He clipped another rose so hard with his claws, several petals fluttered to the ground. “She found out about Eagle’s work, about Bear’s abilities. They knew what she was. Even Mr. Rabbit knew. I did it to save them, to save our work, but…”
Hilary glared at him. “You have those claws! Why didn’t you do something more humane, like kill her?”
“She would have killed them first if I tried! Would have turned them and what they found over to her superiors.” His bony claws trembled as he clipped another rose. That roar shook the glass house to its foundations. “I did it for them…and she hurt them, anyway. Hurt all of us. Bear most of all.”
His heartbroken roar nearly shattered the glass and punctured her eardrums. “It was Bear’s idea to use Mr. Rabbit to reveal what she really wanted.” When he turned those beautiful almond eyes to her, they were haunted. “They got her to admit she never loved me. She wanted a stage career in the US. I was a means to an end. And then, she hurt them all.”
“How can I believe you?” She couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice. “That letter she gave me from Jeff…it seemed realistic enough to me.”
He coughed so hard, he nearly knocked over the rose bush. “It wasn’t. That’s all I can say. I’ve said more than I should.”
She sighed in frustration. “Look, Troll, I came out here to invite you to the music room. We’re going to get together to play music and see if we can make heads or tails of those papers. That’s what this is all about.”
“I need to bring these inside anyway.” He stood to his full nearly seven-foot height. The head covered in mouse-brown curls and those long, sharp, curling horns were almost starting to look majestic, rather than frightening. He turned that oddly familiar lipless smile to her. “Help me set these up in the main parlor and dining room? I think they’d look rather nice there.”
Her breath caught again. His smile…even ugly as it was, it was still familiar. “Yes, that would be wonderful.” He started to lift the roses, but she took the basket. “Let me help you with that.”
He only gave her that little smile again. “Thank you, Miss Booth.”
Now she was blushing like a schoolgirl. “Of course!” Her heart beat triple-time as he took her hand in his bony clawed one and they walked back towards the house.
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