Page 2 of One Last Smile

I remember to smile and say, “It’s wonderful to meet you, Lucas. I look forward to our time together.”

Lucas doesn’t reply, only continues to stare at me with those dark, serious eyes.

When the silence continues long enough to be awkward, Veronica says, “Well, I’m sure you’d like to rest after your long journey. Horace will show you to your room. I would love it if you joined us for dinner tonight at seven. If you’re rested enough, of course.”

I smile at her. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Veronica.”

I turn back to the landing to see that Lucas has gone. My smile fades a little, and I keep my eyes trained to the spot where he stood a moment ago.

“Right this way, ma’am,” Horace says. He’s quite a bit older than me, and, while he doesn’t look unfriendly, he seems like a man who likes to keep his distance.

I nod and allow him to lead me up the stairs to my room. I don’t see Lucas again, but I feel as though his eyes continue to bore into me as though he stares at me from the walls.

CHAPTER ONE

“I do apologize for Sebastian’s absence,” Veronica says. “Work keeps him away so often these days.”

“Oh, it’s perfectly all right,” I reply. “I understand.”

“People need their internet, after all,” Oliver adds. “Nothing is more important than instant connection to everyone everywhere anytime for any reason.”

I detect a hint of bitterness in his statement and feel a touch of sympathy. I wonder how much Sebastian has missed for the sake of his business.

Not that it’s my place to pry. My own father was frequently absent due to his own work, but I must not allow my own resentment to poison my opinion of a man I haven’t even met yet.

“Mary, you must save room for dessert,” Eliza interjects. “Henri makes the most delightful pudding.”

“I’ll be sure to allow some room,” I reply.

“Would you like some wine, Mary?” Before I can decline, she calls, “Hazel! Please fill Mary’s glass! I think we’ll start with the Sauvignon Blanc to pair with the salad.”

A thin, sallow woman around my age appears noiselessly at my side and just as noiselessly pours from the bottle into the glass next to my salad plate. I am not given to alcohol, but I haven’t been given a chance to refuse, and frankly, I don’t know if I would. Veronica’s politeness seems intense, almost aggressive, as though she dares anyone to tell her she’s not a perfect host.

The woman disappears as noiselessly as she appeared, and I realize I haven’t thanked her. The family doesn’t appear to notice this. I’m not sure why that bothers me so much.

“I heard you served in America prior to coming here,” Eliza says. “How was that?”

I consider my answer carefully. “I suppose it could have been worse.”

The three of them seem to find that utterly hilarious. They throw their heads back and burst into laughter, chests heaving with mirth. I smile and offer a forced chuckle, then take a sip of my wine. Perhaps it’s not a bad idea to allow alcohol to loosen my spirits for this meal.

“Tell me, was it the weather or the people you found intolerable?” Oliver asks. “Or both?”

“Now, Oliver,” Veronica says, “there’s no need to be rude.”

“I’m only stating a simple fact, Mother,” he says, grinning cheekily at her. “It’s common knowledge that America is a dreary place filled with dreadful people.”

“And you’re one to talk,” Eliza retorts. “If you had your way, you’d still be carrying on with those heathens from Eton.”

“Well, if you had your way, you’d still be carrying on with those heathens from Cambridge.”

“Children!” Veronica scolds. “Enough of this! I am sure Mary didn’t come all this way to hear you two squabble!”

“Relax, Mother, we’re only teasing,” Eliza says with a grin. “Oliver knows I love his friends.”

“Too much, if you ask me.”

Eliza scoffs and slaps him playfully. “It’s not my fault they can’t keep their eyes to themselves.”