Chapter 18

"Look, Papa, there's Miss Dorothy! I'm going to say hello to her!"

Before either Quatre or Hadya could stop her, Jamila dashed away in the direction of the newly arrived James Sheffield escorting Dorothy Catalonia. Jamila must have been watching intently for her arrival at the reception because she had spotted her across a crowded room. Quatre wouldn't have missed her either. Her white evening gown was low cut in the front and left her back bare to her waist, and while the designer gown wasn't indecent, she certainly turned many heads as she leaned down to greet Jamila, kissing her cheeks before making a formal introduction to the ambassador. Quatre watched Jamila curtsey politely to Sheffield, then slip her hand into Dorothy's, raising her head to stare at her with adoration. Quatre guessed that Jamila had made a remark about Dorothy's diamond and sapphire necklace because Dorothy reached up to touch it as she responded.

"She's beautiful," remarked Hadya, a note of dejection in her voice.

Dorothy's hair was held up with hairpins that matched her necklace, dangling earrings and a bracelet that she now unclasped and slipped off her wrist. The set was worth a fortune, no doubt a legacy from her mother, but Dorothy wrapped the bracelet around Jamila's wrist a couple of times before clasping it.

"She adores Jamila."

Quatre glanced at Hadya. "I thought you didn't like her."

Hadya sighed. "I spoke with her today."

He raised a brow. "What did you talk about?"

His sister frowned at him. "Not that it is any of your business, but she asked a lot of questions about the people in whom you have placed your confidence. I think she has some feelings left for you and is concerned about your safety."

He had assumed that Hadya disapproved of any further involvement with Dorothy Catalonia. "What else did you discuss?" When she didn't answer his question, he noticed that she was looking in the direction of the woman who was the subject of their conversation, but Hadya's gaze was on James Sheffield. He had a sudden revelation about his sister's interest in Dorothy Catalonia and it had nothing to do with his happiness.

Jamila was pulling Dorothy through the crowd while Sheffield was forced to stop when Relena Darlian hailed him. Dorothy was breathless as she came to a stop before Quatre, and he could see by the blush that rose to her cheeks that she was embarrassed to find herself before him. A strand of her hair had slipped from the pins, and he couldn't resist reaching out to tuck it behind her ear. Her blush deepened, and Quatre noticed that the voices had become lower around them. He realized that he shouldn't have done something so intimate, and he could see disapproval on the faces of men and women of his colony.

"Look what Miss Dorothy gave me!" exclaimed Jamila, drawing his attention from his social blunder.

Quatre looked at the bracelet wrapped around her wrist, then turned to Dorothy. "Jamila cannot accept such a gift."

"Of course she can," argued Dorothy softly with an encouraging smile at his daughter.

"It must be an heirloom," he pointed out.

"Miss Dorothy says I can have it," pouted Jamila.

Dorothy looked at Quatre. "I think I have the right to dispose of my heirlooms as I see fit. If you don't want Jamila to have it, then you may tell her so, but I have no intention of demanding it back."

Quatre was outnumbered and knew when to quit. "You may keep it, Jamila."

She clapped her little hands together, then turned her full attention to Dorothy. "It is getting very late, and I have already eaten, but Papa told me I could see you before I go to bed."

Dorothy reached out to caress her cheek. "Then you are leaving?"

Jamila smiled up at her. "All these old people are very boring."

Quatre chuckled, then signaled to Rashid who was waiting to take Jamila to her room. "Be good for Rashid."

Jamila slipped her hand in Rashid's, but she spoke to Dorothy one last time before leaving. "Will you read me a story tonight, like you did the time I stayed at your house?"

Dorothy looked at Quatre. "If you have no objection, I will check on her later."

"None." Quatre caught himself wishing she would check on him later as well.

As Rashid escorted Jamila away, James Sheffield joined them, and this time Quatre shook his hand although he noticed Sheffield's other hand resting possessively on Dorothy's waist.

"I hope you will forgive my behavior earlier today," began Quatre.

"It has already been forgotten." Sheffield shrugged. "You've been under a great deal of stress these last few weeks. I am grateful that you agreed to begin negotiations so soon. When you are ready to sit down at the table again, I will be at your service." He nodded to Hadya. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Winner."

Quatre noticed that his sister was blushing and he wondered if she was going to respond. So the man was good-looking, but Quatre didn't understand how his smile could render his opinionated sister speechless. He thought about jabbing her in the ribs with his elbow.

"It's nice to see you too, Mr. Sheffield," she finally croaked out in a peevishly small voice.

Before the extremely uncomfortable exchange could continue, Majid approached with a pretty young woman that Quatre had seen once or twice before. Although not as striking as Sadirah had been, she was still quite lovely.

"Allow me to introduce my niece, Yaminah, my late brother's daughter."

As he took her hand and she smiled shyly at him, Quatre noted with discomfort now that she was close that she was even younger than Sadirah had been when he first met her. Ahmed had suggested that he escort her to the table in honor of her father's memory, but he found the prospect of even pretending to flirt with the girl revolting. He glanced at Dorothy to see that she wasn't paying attention as she leaned close to James Sheffield to speak to him.

Having no recourse, he offered his arm to Yaminah. "Will you honor me by joining me at the table?"

She took his arm while looking at his face with glowing adoration, but he couldn't be less attracted. He led her into the dining hall, trying to make small talk with her, but she was so young and inexperienced that she barely peeped out any responses. Fortunately, his sister was seated on the other side of him so he wasn't going to spend the entire meal attempting to drag out more than two words in a row from Yaminah Al-Jazar. Ahmed had already prepared a speech before the start of the meal, so Quatre was spared that ordeal.

At the conclusion of Ahmed's welcome to the delegations from Earth and L3, servants rushed to bring food to the long table. Quatre tried to keep his polite attention on the girl he had escorted, but his gaze strayed many times further down the table where Dorothy was seated between James Sheffield and Heero Yuy. If she wasn't talking to Sheffield, her head was bent toward the Preventer who whispered in her ear. Every time she smiled at either man, Quatre felt the cold shaft of jealousy drive further into his heart, especially when Sheffield tucked that same strand of hair behind her ear and took the opportunity to caress her cheek.

Hadya's coughing drew his attention to his sister who was setting aside her glass of water. Her eyes were on the same scene that had disturbed him.

"We're a sorry pair," he remarked wryly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped, looking away from Sheffield.

Quatre leaned toward her. "Just how well do you know James Sheffield?"

Hadya looked at him, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. "What are you implying? I met him on L3."

"And?" He raised his brows.

"And...and...nothing!" Quatre read into that response that she wished there had been more to report. She stabbed at her meat so hard that her fork scraped the plate beneath.

Quatre might have questioned her further had her attack on the meal not seemed so vicious. He looked back at Yaminah and caught her looking at him with undisguised infatuation and her uncle watching with pride. He lost his appetite.

"Anyway," grumbled Hadya from his left. "He seemed to have no trouble forgetting about me when I had to go to Earth."

Quatre was glad for the excuse not to look at Yaminah any more because she was starting to make him nervous, so he turned back to Hadya. "I wasn't aware that you didn't want to help me. If I had known…"

"How could turn you down when you needed me?" she snapped almost shrewishly, her eyes riveted instead on the ambassador from L3. Quatre didn't want to see what was infuriating her, but out of some need to cause himself further pain, he looked in Dorothy's direction. He was relieved to see Sheffield flirting with the woman to his left, but Dorothy was engaged in some deep discussion with Heero Yuy that precipitated them moving their heads close together. He doubted he could actually take Heero Yuy in a fight, but at the moment Quatre wanted to land just one punch on the man.

"Master Quatre," spoke up Majid on the other side of Yaminah, forcing him to look her way again. "You may not be aware that Yaminah has had the finest tutors on L4 and that her work has come to the attention of university scholars."

"That is indeed an accomplishment," remarked Quatre.

She blushed but did not respond.

By the time the second course of the meal arrived, Quatre had enough of the socially immature Yaminah, her hopeful uncle and his rabidly jealous sister. If he tried to excuse himself, he would not hear the end of it from Ahmed and most likely Relena Darlian would tear into him for potentially offending the delegation from L3. So Quatre gritted his teeth, ate what he thought he could hold down, and spoke to Yaminah just enough to keep from insulting her uncle. When he discovered that the girl had just celebrated her fourteenth birthday, Quatre almost threw down his napkin to leave the table, but she was so obviously proud of her position at his side that he didn't have the heart to hurt her feelings.

The end of the meal couldn't come soon enough, and Quatre was relieved when it came time to thank Yaminah for the honor of sharing it with her. But as he left her side, he noticed her smiling uncle and Quatre hoped marriage contracts didn't show up on his desk in the morning. Unfortunately, upon turning around, he found himself face to face with the senator from one of the most heavily damaged sectors on the colony where a particularly fierce battle had raged for days. He greeted Quatre, then drew forth his daughter, Fayruz. Although not as pretty as Yaminah, she was at least a few years older, and she could respond when he spoke to her. A chamber concert was planned as the after dinner entertainment, and Quatre was caught escorting Fayruz.

Ahmed took the seat on the other side of Quatre although he had another pretty young girl beside him. Quatre hadn't realized how safe he had been when married to Sadirah.

"You are wise to give some attention to Kaddar Al-Farouq. His daughter is pretty enough with little or no ambition. She would not trouble you as a wife, and your marriage to her would bring his sector much needed economic relief."

Quatre looked at Fayruz. She smiled. Although she didn't repulse him, she didn't attract him either. He turned back to his brother-in-law. "And Yaminah Al-Jazar?"

Ahmed stroked his bearded chin. "She is young and meek."

"She's too young." Quatre thought that would dismiss the girl from Ahmed's pool of candidates.

"She is old enough to bear children. You need many children, Master Quatre, and she would do well in that capacity."

Frowning, Quatre looked past Ahmed to the girl beside him. She couldn't be more than ten years old! "I suppose you are suggesting I marry that girl as well? Will I be expected to take four wives?"

Ahmed started, glanced at the girl listening to the performing chamber orchestra, then turned back to Quatre with a deep frown. "That is my daughter."

Quatre sank back in his seat, realizing that he had insulted his brother-in-law by not even recognizing his own niece. The room was becoming impossibly stifling, and Quatre's nerves were on edge. Glancing around the room, he saw that Dorothy was sitting with Relena Darlian and Heero Yuy. Sheffield was with other men from L3 so Quatre at least knew he was separable from Dorothy. How could he use that to his advantage? By the time the first portion of the concert had ended, Quatre had a headache and needed to escape. So he excused himself during the intermission to flee into the garden where he pulled out a cigar and had it lit even before he found a far spot in the dark where he was reasonably assured that he wouldn't be found.

When he could hear the orchestra warming up to continue the concert, he took a long drag from the cigar, considered not returning, and then realized he would be scolded like a child by his council and by Relena Darlian. Once he returned, he knew he would have to partner up with another eligible young female and pretend to enjoy her company while all he really wanted to do was cross the room and take Dorothy Catalonia in his arms.

He was about to toss down his cigar when he heard footsteps on the stone walk, and he could tell by the clipping sound that it was a woman in heels. The last thing he wanted was to be caught in a compromising situation with some important man's daughter, sister or niece.

Before he could act, either dodge behind a tree or take another path back to the salon, he saw the white of the woman's gown and knew who it was. A sweat broke out over his forehead and his body reacted to the many erotic thoughts that crowded his head as she came into view, unescorted.

She stopped a few feet away from him, reached up to slip the stray hair back behind her ear, and then waved her hand to disperse the smoke as she wrinkled her nose. "I see you haven't given up this habit."

Quatre lit another cigar before grounding out the first one beneath his heel. "It's relaxing."

"It'll kill you."

"They are engineered without the carcinogens." He didn't tell her what ingredient made his cigars relaxing. However, at the moment it wasn't helping him get control of the desire to pull her in his arms.

He could hear the faint strains of the orchestra beginning a romantic piece. "I should get back," he said without moving.

"Yes," she agreed. "Your prospective in-laws will be wondering where you are. So have you made a choice?"

"A long time ago, but something keeps getting in the way." Quatre took the chance of moving closer to her and reaching out to slip his arm around her waist.

"I didn't come out here for this," she said breathlessly while not making any attempt to escape his embrace.

"Neither did I, but I'm not going to waste a good opportunity." He lowered his head to kiss her, but Dorothy suddenly twisted out of his arms and took a step away. Quatre almost swore.

"I wanted to talk to you."

Listening was the last thing on his mind, but he knew by her tone that she was going to get her say. "You mentioned this afternoon that you wished to speak to me. I guess now you have a chance."

Dorothy looked around the garden, then turned in the direction she had come. Quatre followed her gaze and found himself grow rigid with anger to see Heero Yuy several yards away. When Dorothy turned back, she seemed to be relieved that he had been there, so Quatre kept his opinion about her perpetual shadow to himself.

"I owe you an explanation about Switzerland."

"You don't owe me anything." Quatre didn't want to hear what went on between her and Heero Yuy. Was that why he was lurking in the shadows? Was he there to protect her? He wished he could see her better, but the hologram of Earth's moon was not shining because he had decided not to squander the colony's meager resources for something that was purely aesthetic.

"I don't think I owe you anything either, but Heero Yuy seems to think I do." Her tone was resentful. Mention of the other man's name convinced Quatre that he was probably going to lose control and try to do something stupid to Heero Yuy that was going to get himself more banged up than any battle he fought in the war.

For a moment, she didn't say anything. Quatre imagined that she was trying to plan the phrasing she would use to tell him about her and his former friend. Quatre felt like an idiot waiting for her, knowing what she was going to say. Yuy had pretended to be ignorant of what had happened in Switzerland, then jerked him around when he wanted to trust Dorothy. Quatre had trusted him, and like the trust he had put in Hassan Barak, Yuy had used it against him and turned Dorothy away. Quatre had given the man his Porsche!

Dorothy took a breath.

Quatre didn't bother waiting to hear what she had to say to explain her affair with the Preventer. Pushing her aside, he strode quickly to where Heero was standing, his back to them. Grabbing his shoulder, he jerked him around and landed that one good punch on his jaw.

Heero almost lost his balance, but his reflexes were too good to allow him to sprawl in the bushes. At least Quatre was able to strike him one more time. When Heero stumbled back, Dorothy caught up to them and grabbed his arm before he could hit him again.

"Let go of me!" Quatre snapped at Dorothy.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, her voice in a lower tone to warn him not to make a scene.

Heero wiped the blood from his cut lip with the back of his hand. "What the hell did you tell him?"

"I didn't say anything!" In the dim light from the open salon doors, Quatre could see Dorothy glaring at him.

It occurred to Quatre that he had made an error in his reasoning.

Heero snorted.

"Don't laugh!" snarled Dorothy. "If you laugh, I swear I will make you regret it." When she seemed to be assured that Heero Yuy wasn't going to laugh and make a complete fool out of Quatre, she pulled him back to the private spot where they had been before he lost his sanity.

Quatre shook off her hand and lit another cigar. Damn, he did feel like an idiot now.

She needed a few more minutes to collect her thoughts, and Quatre tried not to finish his cigar too fast because if he did he would get a buzz that would render whatever she had to say irrelevant.

"You obviously have gotten the wrong idea about Heero Yuy and myself. What I have to tell you has absolutely nothing to do with him except that the tenacious bastard discovered something that I wanted to keep to myself." She paused for a moment then said, "You thought something was going on between us?" Now she laughed.

Quatre felt an inch high. "If it wasn't about him, then what is it?"

She clasped her hands before her, and she looked at him. "I went to Switzerland to hide."

"Why?"

She sighed. "I was very upset when I returned from Barbados. My life had been turned inside out. I know now that it wasn't your fault and that you tried to contact me, but I felt humiliated. I wasn't about to let you degrade me any further."

"I understand." Quatre was sad to admit that he did. When he had first seen her in Barbados, his intention was to humiliate her by proving he wasn't the idealistic fool that she had defeated on the Libra. Quatre hadn't planned on her touching his heart as she had. When she refused to return his calls, he had wanted to return to Earth for a face to face confrontation with her, but Barak had made sure he was too busy to leave L4. Quatre's trust in Hassan Barak had been so profoundly misplaced that he would never recover.

"You wouldn't have recognized me as I had become. I had given you my heart and you had rejected me. I was so sick with depression that I couldn't even separate one day from another."

Quatre knew the feeling but he had been pushed relentlessly by Barak. "What changed?" he asked, knowing that for him, the incident with Sadirah had forced him back to reality.

She didn't answer for a moment, and when she did, there was a tremor in her voice that told him she was on the verge of tears. "A baby."

"A baby?" Quatre didn't know what she was talking about.

"Our baby," she said. "I realized that I was pregnant."

Her announcement almost had the power to knock him over. As it was, he put his hand against a tree trunk to steady himself. Quatre didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to feel. The only thing he understood was that she had carried his child and never told him. He was sick with the knowledge that she didn't trust him enough with the responsibility, equally sick to realize exactly why. He couldn't blame Hassan Barak for every stupid move he had made in his life. The man didn't have anything to do with the lousy way he had treated Dorothy the first few days in Barbados when he had planned to seduce her and leave her. Barak had been annoyed by his disreputable behavior while on vacation, had even scolded him, and failing to curb him, used it against him in the end.

Yet he wanted to shake her for not telling him.

"Where is the child?" he asked, realizing that she could be hiding their son or daughter from him.

"I didn't know what to do," she explained. He was afraid that she would tell him that she had aborted the baby because he would never forgive her if she had. "When I decided to give it up for adoption, knowing I could not reasonably explain a child without destroying my reputation, and knowing that I would be a terrible mother, I found a couple that wanted a child of their own desperately. I thought the solution was perfect."

"Who are they?" he demanded. Whatever he had to do to get their child back, he would do so.

She ignored his question. "They made me realize how much I wanted to keep my baby. I didn't know what I would do to explain it until Heero Yuy showed up at my door offering me a job. I realized that I could go away, then invent a husband."

He didn't point out that all she had to do was inform him and she would have had a real husband. "Is that what you were hiding in Switzerland?"

Dorothy nodded.

"Where is our child?" he asked her. Had she changed her mind about keeping it?

"She...she never had a chance." Dorothy folded her arms across her chest and he could see that she was gripping them tightly. In his mind he could see her as she was then, five years younger, alone with no family to turn to, few whom she could call a friend. Quatre didn't like what he saw because he had caused it.

She raised her head to look at him and he saw the tears sliding down her cheeks. "I wanted her! She was all I had! But I never even had a chance to hold her in my arms."

There was a stranglehold on his heart as he watched her suffer. "What happened?"

She had to compose herself before she could answer, and she told him tonelessly what had become of their daughter. "Late in my pregnancy, I started to have problems. Dr. Richter tried everything to help me, and when he tried to deliver me early, everything went wrong. I was in a coma for over two weeks, and when I awoke, he told me that he couldn't save my baby and that I barely survived." She wiped away a tear. "I wished I hadn't."

Quatre understood her pain and sorrow now, and he remembered clearly the day she had met Jamila the first time, how she had seemed instantly to fall in love with her. Jamila was very close to the age that their daughter would be if she had lived, and that is why Dorothy had quickly developed such deep feelings for her. And he had accused her of putting Jamila in danger? Quatre couldn't possibly feel more miserable than he did at the moment for everything he had put her through.

The music from the orchestra had ended followed by a burst of applause. Dorothy reached into her small handbag and drew out a handkerchief to wipe her face and eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Quatre, but I saw no point when I discovered you had settled down with another woman with a child of your own."

He wanted to ask her why she chose to tell him now, but he knew that if she hadn't, Heero Yuy would have because his friend had agreed to look into what had happened in Switzerland.

They stood in the garden in silence for several minutes, neither knowing what to say when she finally turned on her heel and left him alone in the dark. He tried to imagine how she felt to find out about his marriage to Sadirah so soon after she had lost their baby. He would never know what it felt like to nurture a life inside then lose it. And he would never know how it would feel to hold her in his arms, to share with her the miracle of creating life. Was this his punishment for defying his father, for the deaths he had caused in his gundam? Quatre didn't think he would ever be able to feel any happiness.

He stayed in the garden long after the lights in the salon had been shut off and many of the guestrooms had grown dark. Finally he realized he had to get some sleep because the heavy burden of leading the colony back to normalcy was still resting on his shoulders.

Ahmed was waiting for him just inside the salon, but he had dozed off in the chair, so Quatre walked quietly past him so that he would not wake the older man. Quatre didn't feel like making any explanations for his absence. On the way to the wing of the palace where his rooms were located, he walked through the corridor where he knew the guests stayed. Preventer agents were standing guard outside Relena Darlian's suite, but further down the hall where he knew James Sheffield was staying, there were none. He paused outside the door, raised his hand to knock, but he had nothing to say to Dorothy that could ease her pain or the ache in his own heart. He knew deep down inside that she had told him about the baby because she was trying to move her life forward. Quatre had no right to hold her back.

Instead of going straight to his room, he went first to Jamila's suite. He saw Hadya dozing on top of her bed, still dressed, and when he entered, she raised her head to look at him sleepily before lying back against the pillow and closing her eyes. The suite had been designed for the wife of the president, and there was a nursery attached where Jamila had her bed. Approaching it, Quatre noticed that the light was still on. She must have fallen asleep amongst her toys as she often did.

But when he opened the door and stepped in, the breath caught in his throat when he saw that Jamila was not alone. Dorothy was lying asleep on the bed, a picture book under her hand while her other arm was draped around Jamila whose blond head was on her shoulder. Dorothy's head was resting on Jamila's, and as he stared at the pair, he came to the sudden realization that he didn't know where Dorothy's hair ended and Jamila's began.

"Were you acquainted with Dr. Niklaus Richter?"

Quatre remembered Heero asking him the question before he left him at the airport.

"His name is on your daughter's birth certificate. I thought you might have investigated Sadirah Barak's claims a little more thoroughly than you apparently have."

Quatre started to feel sick as he stared at the two most important people in his life. Jamila was still wearing the bracelet, but she now had Dorothy's necklace around her neck.

"Yaqob killed him? Why?"

Finally Dorothy's words came back to him.

"Dr. Richter tried everything to help me..."

Richter.

Quatre didn't even want his suspicion to turn into a coherent thought.

As quietly as he could, he backed from the room, then retraced his steps back to the corridor where the guests were staying. He went straight to Relena Darlian's room, and the Preventer agents seemed unsure whether they should stop him. In his present mood, he would probably end up getting himself killed trying to break down the door. Fortunately they judged him no threat and stepped aside.

He rapped on the door, and when there was no response, he knocked a little louder. The agents shifted uncomfortably, but Quatre ignored them and pounded.

The door finally opened a crack and he could see Relena, hair tousled, makeup smeared, holding together a man's shirt. He didn't need to guess what man was with her. He felt even more foolish, if that were possible, of suspecting Heero Yuy of being Dorothy's lover.

"Is Heero Yuy in there?" he asked impatiently.

She blushed. "Do you have any idea what time it is? What makes you think he would be in here?"

Suddenly she was dragged from view and Heero opened the door wider. He was dressed except for the shirt.

"I want to talk to you." If the circumstances were different, he might have laughed when Relena's bare arm appeared with the shirt, which Heero grabbed before stepping into the hall. Relena slammed the door on his backside.

"I'm getting a little tired of that," he muttered as he pulled on the shirt.

Quatre's feelings were so tangled that he was beginning to feel light-headed. He couldn't think of one emotion that he hadn't experienced that day, and each time it was to the greatest degree possible.

"Where can we talk?" asked Heero, grabbing his arm and forcing him to move away from the Preventer agents watching them curiously. Quatre probably looked like a madman to them. As it was he was close to losing his sanity.

"I don't know!" Quatre couldn't concentrate. He kept seeing Dorothy and Jamila lying on his daughter's bed. He rubbed his eyes, then pushed his fingers through his hair. His head and heart ached so badly that he thought he would burst.

"How about your office?"

"I don't trust it not to be bugged."

Heero grunted. "You've developed some sense of self-preservation."

"I don't even trust you."

His friend chuckled and put his hand up to his cheek, which Quatre noticed, was swollen. "Nice sucker punch, Winner. I'd like to return the favor, but I suspect it would cause a diplomatic incident."

"Does that mean I can punch you again for everything you haven't told me."

"We're not talking about that here," warned Heero. "How about the garden? That seems private enough."

"I don't want to go back out there! In taking the palace, we fought a bloody hand to hand battle in that garden and not one good thing has happened out there since, up to and including what Dorothy told me tonight."

Heero swore, then dragged him back to the room he had exited. "Her room is clean of listening devices. I checked it myself." He pushed open the door.

In the middle of the huge, four poster bed with ornate velvet hangings, Relena sat up and Quatre saw more of her than he wanted. "Good, you're back! What did he..." She noticed him then and dived beneath the covers.

"Is this something we want her to hear?" asked Quatre uncomfortably.

Relena's head popped out from beneath the covers. "Does this affect negotiations with L3?"

"No," said Heero. "Go back to sleep."

"I wasn't sleeping."

Quatre turned away and followed Heero to an overstuffed chair. By the time he had settled, Relena had pulled on a silk dressing gown and joined them. "Anyone care for a drink?" she asked as she headed to a side table where Quatre saw a bottle of wine. It was already half empty.

Heero ignored her. "I know how you must feel about what Dorothy told you."

"Bring me a glass of wine," Quatre told Relena.

"I thought you didn't drink alcohol," she remarked. When he didn't change his mind, she shrugged and poured him a glass.

Quatre downed it immediately and held it out for more. "The last time I did this I ended up married to a girl that ultimately proved to be insane. Just get me some more. How could I do worse?"

Heero shrugged at Relena's questioning look. She shrugged as well, then brought Quatre the refilled glass. The bottle was empty, so he wasn't in danger of getting drunk.

When he had finished the second glass of wine, he turned his full attention to Heero. "She told me about the baby."

"What baby?" asked Relena. When they didn't answer her, she took a breath. "All right! I refuse to remain in the dark. What baby are you talking about?"

"Dorothy's," said Quatre.

"Dorothy is pregnant?" Relena's eyes grew wide. "She hasn't been with Sheffield that long!"

"Dorothy isn't pregnant" snapped Heero irritably. "And get this lunatic idea that she's going to end up with that prick Sheffield out of your head."

"I don't know why you don't like him."

"I thought I just told you why. He's a prick."

Quatre put up his hand. "I didn't come here to listen to you two fight. I want to know what you found out in Switzerland."

"I found out why Yaqob killed Dr. Richter."

"He was Dorothy's doctor too, wasn't he?"

Heero nodded. "Five years ago, he received a tidy sum of money from an unidentified source on the day marked on Jamila's birth certificate as her date of birth."

"And Dorothy's baby?" demanded Quatre. "Did you find any record of that birth?"

"I wish we had something stronger than wine," remarked Relena. "I have a feeling I'm going to need another drink."

Heero ignored her. "There is no record of the baby's birth or death. Anyone who was in that delivery room with her is now dead, and not by natural causes."

"Yaqob killed them all?" Quatre couldn't believe he had trusted the man with the safety of his daughter.

"Apparently, when Salim started asking questions, Richter thought he could get a little more money from Yaqob. I found his records in a safe hidden in his office, and he had documented the transaction down to the last detail. According to Richter's records, Yaqob had been with Sadirah when your future wife spotted Dorothy shopping for baby items. She put two and two together, and she sent Yaqob to follow her. Yaqob discovered where she was staying, in her mother's chalet with the caretakers, Greta and Albert Huffmann. What Dorothy didn't realize is that she was instrumental in putting their only son in prison for his role in the Romefeller plot to assassinate the president. They were apparently biding their time, waiting for a chance to take their revenge on her. So when Sadirah approached them, they were only too happy to accept her money. According to Richter's records, the Huffmanns introduced him to Sadirah Barak. He was able to discover that you didn't touch Sadirah Barak and she was beside herself in worry over how she was going to explain her failure to her father."

Quatre felt relief that he hadn't taken advantage of Sadirah, and yet he knew he was a fool for having believed her story in the first place. "How did he find out?"

"Money wasn't the only thing she gave him."

"The death she received was too good for her." Quatre had once felt some pity for her after everything she had gone through as a child, but now he felt cold, dark hatred for the young woman that had been his wife "And the Huffmann couple?"

"Dead. Their death was ruled accidental, but I have a hard time believing they would drive their car over the edge of a mountain."

"I'm going to have very bad dreams tonight," commented Relena before glaring at Heero. "You could have told me what was going on..."

"I don't gossip."

"Bastard! Dorothy is my friend!"

"She didn't tell you, did she? She didn't want you to know."

Relena fell silent.

Quatre looked at Heero. "Are you sure that Jamila is Dorothy's child?"

"They spent time in the hospital after the fire. I had the lab run the tests that you never would have considered to determine that their DNA matched. Sadirah Barak knew that you wouldn't check the maternity of her child, and she certainly had no reason to fear the paternity."

"That is why she never felt any affection for Jamila." Quatre clenched his fists wishing he could beat Sadirah for how she had treated Jamila. He hadn't done enough to protect his daughter, and he didn't deserve to keep her.

"What are you going to do now?" asked Relena as she put her hand over his.

Quatre shook his head. "I don't know what to do."

"You have to tell her," said Relena.

"She'll take Jamila from you," predicted Heero. "She'll be within her rights."

Quatre stood although he felt weak and faint. He hadn't eaten enough that night, he smoked one too many cigars, he had two glasses of wine and now he was being told that his daughter was going to be taken away from him.

He stumbled to the door, but before he reached it, Heero grabbed his arm. "Don't do anything stupid. You don't have to tell her right away."

"How can I not?"

Heero raised his brow. "I've known about this for three months now. What she doesn't know isn't going to hurt her. You have to remember that another person is involved in this pile of crap. How would Jamila feel if Dorothy wrenched her away from you? Her relationship with her real mother would never recover the loss of the only parent she has left. She's too young to understand what has happened, and Dorothy would be too hurt to do what is right."

"I can't do it. I can't keep the truth from Dorothy."

Heero shoved him against the door so hard that he felt the pain all the way down his spine. "You don't have a choice. You willingly allowed yourself to be screwed over by Barak. Dorothy doesn't even know how badly she was betrayed by those that she trusted. Don't fuck this up for her just so you can redeem yourself in her eyes."

Quatre didn't know how he was going to be able to keep the truth from her, but he nodded. "How will I know when to tell her?"

Heero raised a brow. "If I have to tell you that, then maybe you don't deserve her."