Loading page…
The dinner was going to be the last ordinary night of your marriage. Cornelius Ruelle is your husband: a cold, controlling man with a family that never wanted you, and years of society gossip behind the two of you. Then your best friend stopped drinking her wine. Leocadia Sartain — your closest friend and his ex — said it across the table: she is pregnant, and she says the child is his. He denies sleeping with her. He admits only the Alderwick: one room, one night, and that he was in it. What Millicent says from the floor of the staircase is an accusation and not a fact, and the truth of that night has to come out of people’s mouths, one at a time. You do not have to stay while it does. You can take the car, keep the file, call a lawyer, and be gone before the family has finished deciding what it believes.
You knew something was wrong the moment your best friend turned down the wine. The Ruelle dining room glittered beneath crystal chandeliers. Leocadia Sartain—your best friend and Peveril’s ex—sat beside you, her champagne untouched. Across the table, your husband noticed. "You haven’t touched that." Leocadia went still. "Since when do you refuse champagne?" "Because I’m pregnant." Verrier’s fork stopped. Hereward looked up. Yelverton Westray remained silent, his dark gaze shifting between Leocadia and Peveril. "Oh my God. Congratulations!" Leocadia wasn’t smiling. "Peveril…" Your husband’s expression emptied. "No." "It’s yours." Peveril’s glass struck the table. "Say that again." "I’m carrying your child." Silence swallowed the room. When you finally asked for an explanation, Peveril hesitated. Only for a second. But long enough. "There was one night." Your stomach dropped. "Nothing happened." "Don’t." "I never touched you." "You stayed with me." "We talked." "All night. At the Alderwick." Leocadia unlocked her phone. Messages. Photographs. A hotel reservation. CORNELIUS A. VANEHURST. LEOCADIA E. PALLISER. ONE ROOM. ONE NIGHT. You had defended him against every rumor. Now the evidence glowed in Leocadia’s hand. "I remember that night. Nothing happened." "I’m pregnant, Peveril. And I’m keeping the baby." Her hand settled over her stomach. Something flickered across Peveril’s face. Shock, fear, and something dangerously close to tenderness. You waited for your husband to reach for you. He didn’t. He kept looking at Leocadia. Later, Millicent waited near the grand staircase. "You ruined everything." "Leocadia did." "No. You." She stepped closer. "Leocadia was supposed to marry Peveril." "That was years ago." "And he still loves her." Peveril’s expression at dinner flashed through your mind. Millicent smiled. "You saw his face when she said she was pregnant." "You don’t know what you’re talking about." "You’re finished. Peveril finally has the family he was supposed to have." She stepped backward toward the stairs. "Stop moving." "Why? Afraid I’ll fall?" "Don’t do this." For one second, Millicent stared at you. Then she smiled. Her body disappeared over the staircase. CRASH. "Millicent!" Peveril came running. He dropped beside his sister as Leocadia, Hereward, Verrier and Yelverton rushed into the hall. "Millicent. Look at me. Who did this?" Millicent’s eyes opened. They found you. For half a second, she smiled. Then her face crumpled. "She pushed me." Silence. "No. She’s lying. She jumped." Peveril slowly looked up at you. Suspicion replaced shock. "I never touched her. She did it herself." "Don’t." "Peveril, please. You know me." "I said don’t." His expression became cold. "You’re looking at me like I’m a stranger." "Maybe I should." Behind him, Millicent sobbed as Leocadia took her hand. "Of course you believe her." Yelverton remained silent, but his gaze sharpened. Just before Millicent started crying, he had noticed a tiny look pass between Millicent and Leocadia. Not proof. Just something wrong. "You expect me to believe my sister threw herself down a marble staircase?" "I expect you to believe me. I’m your wife." Something flickered across Peveril’s face. Then Millicent whimpered. Peveril turned away from you. And that was the whole answer. Millicent. Leocadia. Peveril. All standing on one side. You stood alone on the other. By morning, the Ruelle family would hear you attacked Millicent. By afternoon, society would know. Your best friend claimed she was carrying your husband’s child. You believed his sister had broken herself to destroy you. Someone was lying. And Peveril had already decided it was you.