A Game of Optics

Chapter Nine

Elizabeth

Elizabeth snatched her phone from the bedside table the moment it started to buzz. She propped herself up on one elbow and peered blearily at the screen. Russell Jackson. "Hello?" She eased the covers off and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The chill in the air tingled between her toes.

"Elizabeth. Come to the White House now." A pause. "Alone."

The word 'alone' swept through her mind like a gust of winter and cleared the billows of fog that had settled over night. She glanced over her shoulder. Henry was lying on his side, his back to her, the duvet swaddling him like a cocoon. He gave a soft sigh and snuggled deeper into their bed.

"I'm on my way." She hung up and tossed the phone onto the comforter. She washed and dressed, all the while her heart was pounding, resounding that ominous word 'alone'.

***

"Bess, take a seat." Conrad motioned to the sofa nearest the door in the Oval Office, then he folded his arms over his chest. He was stood in front of his desk, whilst Russell and the FBI Director were sat on the far couch.

Elizabeth lowered herself down onto the cushion, her heart thudding against her ribs. Her gaze flitted over each of them in turn. "What's this about?" she said, though from their grave faces and the fact that Russell had told her to come without Henry, part of her already knew.

Russell leant forward in his seat, his hands clasped in front of him. His gaze settled on the coffee table for a long while before rising to meet her eye. And God, there was pity there. "An employee at the hotel has come forward. He says that he served Henry and the woman in the bar, and that he saw them going up to the room."

Elizabeth's chest clenched so tight it felt as though her heart had stopped. She opened her mouth, but there were no words in her mind let alone on her tongue. How could someone say that? How, when Henry was at home? "Have you checked the security footage?" She clutched her knees, palms sweaty against the denim of her jeans. "What...what about bribes?"

The three men shared a look. God, they thought she was crazy. Was she crazy?

Jon offered her a smile, a jarring mix of self-satisfaction and sympathy. "Elizabeth—"

"Madam Secretary," Elizabeth said.

Jon paused a moment, mouth open, then continued, "Madam Secretary, you're not the first woman to be duped by a philandering husband, and you certainly won't be the last. I think it's time that we drew a line under this whole..."

"Affair?" Elizabeth said, because that's what he was going to say. His lips pursed as if trying to contain his amusement at his own little pun. "My husband isn't a philander," she said, but the conviction in her voice had gone. She looked to Conrad; one arm was still crossed over his chest, but the other had risen to rest a finger over his lips. Others might call it his 'indecisive' look, but to her it was the look that he wore when he had already made the difficult decision. "We need to do something, we need to prove that Henry didn't do this."

Conrad studied her for a moment, then looked to Jon. Jon nodded, stood up and left. Conrad settled into the empty seat. Hours could have passed in the minute that it took him to meet her eye. "Bess—" He shook his head. "—I never thought that Henry was capable of this, but then again, I never thought Munsey and Juliet were capable of orchestrating a coup in Iran."

The sickening feeling wrenched at the bottom of her stomach. "You think Henry did this?" Her gaze darted between Conrad and Russell. And their faces said what their mouths wouldn't.