Page 17 of One Last Smile

Sebastian turns to Eliza, who swallows and then says, “Clear,” in a hoarse voice.

Sebastian stares at her a moment longer. Then he returns to his meal, his expression calm once more. “We really should pay Henri more. This beef Wellington would earn a Michelin Star at any restaurant in London.”

The rest of us don’t respond, fearful of provoking another episode of wrath. Veronica is the first to recover, slamming her fork down and pushing her chair back so forcefully it falls to the floor. She leaves the table and stalks upstairs, her footfalls echoing hollowly through the house.

My head reels from what I’ve just witnessed. The insinuation that Lucas is Veronica’s son by affair is shocking enough, but the insinuation that Minerva might be his sister is beyond the pale.

And Sebastian’s reaction chills me. I will not hear that name mentioned again.

Why not? What is he hiding?

Prudence tells me that I should follow Niall’s advice and keep my nose out of their business.

But Minerva’s voice cries to me as surely as Abel’s cried to God when Cain slew him.

For better or for worse, I must know the truth of what happened to her.

CHAPTER EIGHT

That night, I am afflicted with nightmares once more, but none of them are clear, or at least none remain clear upon waking. My alarm does its job this time, and I am awake by six as usual.

Veronica is up. She is sitting at the table, staring out the window of the breakfast room, a blank expression on her face. Outside, the gray light of pre-dawn mutes the colors of the flowers, causing everything to appear ethereal.

I consider ignoring her and going to the kitchen for my coffee, but aside from being uncalled for—Veronica has been nothing but gracious to me—it is unwise. Niall warned me that it’s best to stay in the Carltons’ good graces, and I am wholeheartedly inclined to believe him.

Veronica preempts my greeting, however. Still staring out the window, she says, “I love him, you know.”

I blink, confused. “Ma’am?”

“Veronica,” she reminds me. “Not ma’am. And Sebastian. I really do love him.”

The fragility in her voice breaks through my fear and engenders genuine sympathy. I cross the room and sit next to her, taking her hand in mine. It’s cold and paper-thin.

“Of course you do,” I tell her. “I could see that the moment he walked into the house.”

She smiles slightly and says with a trace of irony, “Could you now?” She takes a deep breath and turns to me. “Well, it’s true. I love him. I’ve always loved him. But… it’s hard to be in love with him. He’s always away, and when he’s here, it’s always about the business. Not that he doesn’t love his children, and I believe he loves me too, but… I feel sometimes as though we’re property. He has decided that this is the life he shall have: a successful business, an exquisite estate, a doting wife and children that are the envy of the world. So that’s what he has.”

She shakes her head. “So few have that gift to have whatever it is they want in life. He doesn’t demand it. It just occurs.”

I recall his thunderous rebuke of Oliver and Eliza the night before, but I keep my mouth shut.

“And I’m happy for him, I really am. He’s a good man. He deserves it. But…” She sighs. “It’s hard. It’s hard to know that the rest of your life will proceed in an orderly fashion according to what propriety dictates. I will keep the estate, I will support charity, I will ensure that our family name stands taller and shines brighter than the others, and I will ensure that my daughter comports herself like a lady and my sons receive the education they need to become men. It sounds so simple. So… normal.”

She meets my eyes. The emptiness in her expression sends a chill down my spine. It reminds me of Annie’s own in the months leading to her disappearance.

“But eventually it becomes too much. A gilded cage is still a cage. Eventually, I must flee the cage and fly somewhere, anywhere, just to remind myself that I can. That’s all it is. Just reminding myself that I exist outside of him.”

She looks down. “That’s all it was. But I love him. I would never leave him. And haven’t I proven that I’ve learned my lesson? Haven’t I stayed where I’m meant to be?”

Her voice trails off. She blinks and her eyes come into focus. She pulls her hand from mine and stands, frowning down at me. My heart begins to pound, and I remain silent. Her lips thin, and I fight the urge to apologize. Saying something can only make this worse.

“Hazel is off today,” she says, and her tone is that of the mistress of the house speaking to a servant. “If you have time after your instruction of Lucas, I’d appreciate it if you cleaned some of the rooms. The children’s bedrooms and the kitchen and breakfast room. There’s no need to concern yourself with mine and Sebastian’s bedroom and you may leave dinner’s dishes for Hazel when she returns tomorrow.”

I swallow. “Yes, ma’am.”

She inclines her head, then leaves. I wait until I hear the door to the breakfast room close behind her, then release a ragged breath and slump forward in my chair. I take a deep breath to steady myself, then head to the kitchen and prepare coffee.

As I work, the fear fades, and I digest what I’ve heard. The meaning of the outburst last night and Veronica’s confession this morning is clear. She’s cheated on Sebastian. Perhaps recently, certainly when she was younger.

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