Page 7 of One Last Smile

I head to the kitchen and prepare the food requested. Henri, I was told, only prepares the family’s dinners, so I am alone in the kitchen at first. I am just finishing Lucas’s lunch when the door opens and Eliza walks in.

She gives me a somewhat sad smile and says, “I apologize for my mother. She’s gotten worse the older Lucas has grown, I’m afraid.”

I don’t want to take sides right now, so I keep my response neutral. “Watching one’s children grow is hard. I’m sure it was just as hard for her when you and Oliver came of age.”

She scoffs. “Hardly. Lucas has always been special in her eyes.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, so I don’t. After a moment, she says, “She conceived him overseas, you know.”

I blink. What a strange thing to say. “I see,” is all I can think to reply.

“Yes. She lived in South Africa for a while when Oliver and I were young. Oliver doesn’t remember, but I do, a little bit. She and Father were fighting, and she ran off to live on her family’s estate in Johannesburg.”

“So she is from South Africa.”

“Not originally, but her family owns land there. When her father retired, they sold their house in Worcestershire and moved there permanently. Better winters, I’m told. Anyway, she was gone for a few months, but then Father went to get her. She came back, and I remember that they were both smiling. She told me we were going to have another baby brother or sister, and she and Father were so happy, and I should be too.” She smiles, but it seems a rueful smile. “I thought, ‘Why wouldn’t I be happy? Of course, I’m happy. Mum’s back, and we’ll have another baby.’“

“You seem to love each other very much,” I offer. Not technically a lie, I suppose, but not the truth.

She hesitates a moment, then says, “Yes. I suppose we do. I wonder, though, what happened while she was in Johannesburg. I was a young girl, so maybe I’m not remembering correctly, but she seemed different when she came back. She’s been like this with Lucas his whole life, always hovering close by, always descending like a vulture anytime anything even remotely dangerous happens to him. Almost as though she feels a devil is lurking, just waiting for the right moment to snatch him away.”

Or a girl hiding in the walls. I still don’t know what to say, but I believe Eliza is reaching out to me, so I try to offer some insight.

“It’s very hard to make a marriage work for a lifetime. It’s possible that your mother sees him as a symbol of the salvation of her relationship with your father.”

Eliza looks sharply at me, and I realize what I’ve said. “I’m so sorry,” I quickly apologize. “It’s not at all my business to pry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She keeps the sharp look for a moment, then nods. “No, you shouldn’t have. But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. Though I have to wonder if she’s put her faith in the wrong miracle.”

I want to ask what she means by that, but I think I’ve put my foot far enough in my mouth for one day. I hand Eliza the lunch and say, “Enjoy your day. I look forward to meeting your father.”

She gives another enigmatic smile. “I’m sure he will be the highlight of your stay.”

She leaves, and when the door closes behind her, I release a huge sigh and run a trembling hand over my forehead.

This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. One day with this family, and already I’m involved in their inner drama. Veronica seems desperate to make me her bosom buddy, Lucas looks at me like I’m a fascinating bug, and now Eliza is confiding in me about her parents’ marriage struggles and her mother’s favoritism.

I wish sometimes that I were as stern and forbidding as the governesses from storybooks. Life would be so much easier if people were afraid to talk to me.

***

I visit the attic again while the family is away. The portrait of the missing girl is gone. Veronica was evidently serious about having Horace remove it.

I feel a strange mixture of relief and sadness to see it gone. I didn’t know the girl, but I know the tendency of wealthy aristocratic families to bury scandal. I don’t know how many records persist of Minerva outside of sanitized demographics maintained by police and records departments. Part of me wonders if my meddling has resulted in the removal of the last snapshot of her life.

Another part of me reminds me that I’m here to teach Lucas and nothing else. It’s none of my business, and if I don’t want this stay to end up like the Ashford job, I need to pull my nose out of business that isn’t mine and focus only on the task I’m hired to do.

Tomorrow, school will begin. I need only endure what I’m sure will be a very awkward and uncomfortable dinner with Sebastian and then I can gently pull away and establish myself as the governess who teaches Lucas and takes her meals in her room.

When the family returns, I am resolved to that action. I’ll get through dinner, then mention to Veronica that I must use the afternoons and evenings to prepare lessons and the mornings to prepare for the day. If I keep myself busy enough, maybe I can become as noiseless and unseen as the rest of the staff.

My thoughts are interrupted when I hear rich, baritone laughter echo through the halls as the door opens. A moment later, a tall, stately man in his mid-fifties walks in. He wears a perfectly tailored suit, of course, and he stands with the bearing of an English lord. His hair has gone to gray, but is full and luxurious and perfectly coiffed, and his eyes are a piercing gray that sets my heart aflutter.

I am not a girl anymore, and as foolish as I may be at times, that foolishness doesn’t extend to harboring fantasies about an employer. Still, it’s impossible not to notice how attractive Sebastian Carlton is.

What’s more incredible to me, however, is the change in the family. It’s as though they become entirely different people around him. Veronica follows him, her hand on his shoulder, the first genuine smile I see her wear spread across her face. Eliza flanks his other side, beaming at him with the sort of affection that only a daughter can have and that she can only have for her father. Oliver seems to stand taller in his presence, and the layer of sarcasm that lies underneath his behavior thus far is vanished. Even Lucas smiles, and it might just be my imagination, but I think I see some color in his cheeks.

Sebastian extends his hand to me and smiles. “You must be Mary. Veronica has said wonderful things about you.”

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