Page 39 of One Last Smile

“I did. He was quite angry.”

Alistair laughs. “He was quite broken-hearted. And quite young and quite foolish.”

We are in the east garden now. I am keenly aware of how close Alistair is to me and how strong his arm is over mine. I begin to regret my decision to come out with him alone. Still, I am out here. I might as well see this through.

“You mentioned you advised him not to send the letter. Is that why you flew all this way?”

“Ah… no. No, I…” He sighs. “Well, I might as well say it. I’m afraid I’m a failure, Mary.”

He gives me a jaunty grin as he says it, but I see the pain of that failure in his eyes. I also see crow’s feet at the corners of those eyes. I’ve thought him around the same age as Oliver and Eliza, but now that I pay closer attention, I would guess him to be ten years older at least.

“I don’t mean to be,” he continues. “I had high hopes for myself, nearly as high as those my parents held for me. I planned to be a successful investor and use my wealth to explore the world and learn all there is to know about its wonders. I’ve accomplished one of those things.”

“You’re not alone,” I say. “Quite a few people fail to live to their own expectations.”

“Quite true,” he agrees. “If only I had a better head on my shoulders. In any case, I was here for a reason I’m sure you can deduce but I’m equally sure you’re too polite to say. I was asking for money.”

“I see.”

He laughs. “Ever the polite one. There’s no need to mince words between us. I think we understand each other very well.”

An alarm goes off in my head. God, I wish he would release my arm. “Oh?”

“Yes. We’re both dissatisfied. Opposite ends of the spectrum, of course. You have money. Not as much as my cousin, of course, but you don’t behave as if you struggle financially.”

“And how does one behave if they struggle financially?”

“Desperately.” He gives me another slightly forlorn grin. “Like me. No, I think what you lack is purpose.”

I’m taken aback, and I flinch instinctively. “I lack purpose?”

“Yes. I don’t mean in some esoteric philosophical way. I don’t really put any faith in philosophy to begin with. But I think you lack a driving force to your actions, a reason that keeps you coming back day after day after day.”

Oh, how wrong you are. “And what gives you that impression?”

“You’re here in the Cotswolds just a few months after you were in a small town in New York, USA, just a few months after you were a teacher at an elementary school in New York City for twenty-five years. No one picks up and changes their routine after twenty-five years for no reason. You’re missing something, and if you’ll forgive me for the most horrible rudeness, I think you turned fifty and realized that your time to find that something is running out.”

“That is a little rude,” I say, not too angrily.

That alarm still rings in my head, and I don’t want to antagonize him. I do, however, want to hear what he has to say about Minerva’s disappearance.

My reproof has the effect I hope. “Quite right, quite right. I mean no offense, but my tongue does waggle. Well, it was waggling about Minnie and Oliver, yes? So I was here asking for money, and it was profoundly the worst time. Oliver was whining about a girl who turned out to be nothing more than a vapid society wench who latched onto our family because she saw a chance to advance her status. If only she had been a little more prudent, she might have latched onto Oliver. But she went ahead and got pregnant by another man. Then her vapid little brain thought it would be a good idea to confide in Eliza.”

“So she was pregnant.” He gives me a searching look, and I realize my mistake. “I mean… that’s usually what these scandals are, right?”

He chuckles. “Hardly. Illegitimate children are the norm in families like ours. It’s almost fashionable. Don’t tell me you haven’t wondered why Lucas looks so different from the other two.”

I have wondered, but I keep my mouth shut this time. He stops and examines a row of brilliant purple foxgloves. “So since I was here,” he says, “I advised Oliver not to give Minnie the letter. I told him to cut off contact with Minnie, and I told the family the same. I never understood why they tolerated her anyway. Not that I’m one to speak, but…” He lifts his hands and lets them drop.

In the process, he releases mine, and I step away so he can’t grab it again.

“Well, Minnie wouldn’t let it go. She kept coming by, pleading with Eliza to help her do something about the baby, pleading with Oliver to forgive her, pleading with the Carltons to protect her from her parents.”

“Her parents?”

“Well, they weren’t happy, were they? Honestly, if it had been Oliver who ‘did the deed,’ they probably would have been over the moon. A whole family of leeches, the Montclairs. But since it was… well, I don’t know who it was. Not Oliver. Anyway, it got to the point where I felt I had to intervene.”

My heart begins to pound. I take another step away from him. “How so?”

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