Page 27 of One Last Smile

On the surface, it appears I’m only flirting playfully, and the family reacts accordingly, laughing and teasing. Veronica lifts an eyebrow at me and says, “Why, Mary! I would never have guessed you’d have such a saucy side!”

Something flashes across Alistair’s eyes. He sees beneath the surface and knows that I referred to a very different sort of wildcat than the one to which he alluded. I hold his gaze a moment, then say, “Good night, Alistair.”

“Good night, Mary.” He recovers from his momentary fear and flashes another of his rakish smiles. As I walk out of the room, he says, “Hey, does anyone have any pictures of her from when she was younger?”

“Alistair!” Veronica cries.

The door closes behind me, and I don’t hear the rest. I really am tired, and while I wonder why Eliza reacted so strongly to the teasing about the handsome village doctor, I would rather wait until the morning to dig into that mystery any further. Besides, it’s probably best I save my prying for when Sebastian isn’t home.

I start upstairs, but when I hear crying, I pause. I follow the sound back down the stairs to the drawing room behind the parlor.

Eliza sits in one of the upholstered chairs with her face buried in her hands. She looks up when I enter and straightens, wiping her hand across her eyes. “I must have embarrassed myself horridly out there,” she says.

“Hardly,” I reply. “Between you and me, your cousin is a cad.”

She laughs. “He is, isn’t he.” She sighs. “Sometimes I think I should just give him what he wants, at least for a year or two. Maybe I’d enjoy just throwing caution to the wind and living a life of adventure for a while. It’s not like he’d maintain any sort of interest longer than that.”

“You’re not attracted to him, are you?”

She bursts into laughter. “Oh God! Oh, if he could see the horror on your face!” She shakes her head. “No. No, I’m not attracted to him. But it’s quite easy for a woman to fake attraction if she must. Men don’t know the difference.”

“You can do better than him,” I assure her.

“I can. I have. I will. But I don’t think it matters. All men are like Alistair. They might dress better and talk smoother, but when you strip everything away, all men are just wolves hunting for prey. They catch you and devour you, then they shit you out and move on to the next doe.”

The viciousness of that sentiment silences me for a moment. When I recover, I say, “Your love life is none of my business, Eliza. But a man who would use you and then discard you as though you were worthless is not worth your time. No matter who he is to you.”

She looks away. “Oliver’s the same, you know.”

The change in subject is jarring, but it’s nothing I’m not used to from this family by now. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he’s like all men. He slept with three different girls in two days in Madrid.”

“Oh, goodness!” I exclaim, unable to help myself.

“Yes. Three different girls.” She shakes her head. “They seemed to enjoy themselves, so I suppose there’s that.”

“Did Lucas…” I can’t bear to finish the question.

She chuckles. “No. No, don’t worry. Lucas would probably have scored one had Alistair not swooped in to save him. Oddly enough, Alistair is quite responsible when it comes to Lucas. Though I suppose it’s not so odd that he would be careful with Mother’s favorite. He wouldn’t want to bite the hand that feeds him. But don’t fret. As Alistair said, Lucas is as pure of heart and mind as he was when he left. But his day will come. Later due to Mother’s stifling, but eventually, all men succumb. I tried to warn Minnie.”

“About Lucas?”

“No, about Oliver. Oliver was no different with her than he is now. He claimed to love her, claimed she was the only one, acted all devastated when she cheated, meanwhile he and his mates were out prowling the bars all over the Cotswolds. Not that I’m excusing Minnie for cheating. She was as much an utter fool as he was.” She shook her head. “I warned Oliver too. But no one listens to me.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“I’m still sorry.”

She looks me up and down a moment before turning away again. “Don’t be. I’m through punishing myself for the fact that people don’t bloody listen to me. I told her to leave Oliver alone. I told her to leave—”

She catches herself, but her trembling lips betray the grief threatening to overcome her again. “I left her. The night she died, I left her.”

My heartbeat quickens. I fight to keep my tone calm when I ask, “What do you mean?”

“I left her,” she snaps. “It’s not hard to figure out the meaning. She and I fought. I told her to leave my brother alone because they would only break each other’s hearts again. She called me a meddling whore and accused me of… well, I won’t repeat it, but it was enough that I said, ‘Fine. Go get yourself hurt for all I care.’ I was supposed to walk her home, but I didn’t. She left by herself, and she was never seen again.”

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