Chapter 27
I stood on the doorstep of a large redbrick town house with black shutters and white trim.
Purple irises flourished in the small garden plot out front.
I knew the Georgetown house, had been there one other time before with Evalyn before racing off to a fancy restaurant for lunch.
Now, as I stood on the sidewalk eyeing the motorcar parked in the street out front, its trunk popped open and the servant in livery standing over it as he worked to make several suitcases fit, I felt changed, different, and I knew the world had shifted and would never be the same again.
Hands trembling, I reached for the knocker on the door, but it opened suddenly.
“Lizzie?” Carrie’s face paled as if she’d seen a ghost. “What are you doing here?” She looked over her shoulder, closed the door quietly behind her, and raced down the front steps.
“I need to talk to you about something,” I said. “It’s important.”
“I can’t right now,” she said. “I’m in a rush. We’re off to Kentucky. From there, I’ll be traveling to our summer home in Rhode Island at the beach. I need some time away.”
“And why is that?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, my patience wearing thin.
She smiled ruefully, touched her wavy hair with a gloved hand. “If you must know, Jet is convinced I have a new lover. He thinks if I spend time in Rhode Island, it will be good for us both. The irony is he’s the one with a new lover. He plans to stay here in town while I summer up north.”
“I’m not here to make small talk,” I cut her off. “I’m here about the letters. Do you really think I wouldn’t know they were from you?”
Carried frowned. “What letters?”
“There’s no sense in playing coy. I know you sent them. The cream envelopes with silver trim?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted.
I pulled one from my handbag and read it aloud.
I read another and another, and when I stopped, I searched her face for some sign of recognition, but she seemed as puzzled by them as me.
“I don’t know who wrote those,” she said. “I swear. I can show you my stationery if you like.”
I wanted to shout at her, to call her a liar, but the problem was I believed her. “If it wasn’t you, then who? Who would send these?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. But I would never be that rude to you after all you’ve been through. Not after all you’ve lost.”
“All I’ve lost,” I repeated. “Since when does anyone care about what I’ve lost?” I was angry, irrational, unwilling to give her or anyone the benefit of the doubt.
“I’ve been nothing but kind—”
“Why did you warn me about Evalyn that day when you came to my boutique?”
She clenched her perfect jaw and pushed a lock of red hair out of her perfect face. “In case you haven’t noticed, she’s not the most reliable person in the world. I also did it to be your friend.”
I blew out a frustrated breath. “But we hardly know each other, and we come from two different worlds.”
“Your brother,” she said with a shrug. “He was a wonderful person, and I’ve felt…such sympathy for you. It was a terrible loss.”
I swallowed hard, looked down at the letters in my hand. “What about Rita’s brother? Was he your lover?”
She frowned. “Rita’s brother? Who told you she has a brother? She’s an only child.”
Heart quickening, I replayed Bea and Gwen’s conversation in my head.
Carrie taking a lover, Jet driving fast, the car accident.
And now this, Bea’s outright lie about who Carrie’s lover was.
Bea had been covering for someone. Perhaps they all had.
They’d all worn jewelry Julien had designed and sold to them the day after I’d mentioned something to Evalyn about Carrie’s pendant.
I’d known then it was strange, too coincidental, and it was.
They’d been instructed to throw me off the scent.
The last of the pieces slowly fell into place.
“It was him, wasn’t it?” I said, capturing her gaze.
Her shoulders fell, and she blew out a breath. “Oh, Lizzie.” She covered her forehead with a gloved hand, rubbed her eyes. “Julien was different from the rest.” Her tone turned wistful. “He was funny and warm and so alive.”
“And now he’s none of those things,” I said, my voice cracking.
At least she had the decency to look pained.
“You had an affair with him. I want to hear you say it,” I demanded, my voice growing shrill.
She looked down, hesitated, and at last said, “It was so much more than an affair. I was prepared to leave my husband to be with Julien. I flirted with other men, but I’d never cheated on my husband before, no matter how often he’d cheated on me.”
She reached for me, to console me or to hold me there, I didn’t know, but I stepped out of her reach.
“Don’t,” I huffed, on the verge of losing my temper entirely. “Does Evalyn know?”
She nodded. “Of course. She hired you because I encouraged her to help you. Now I know she only did it to dangle a Beaumont in front of me. To remind me that she kept my secret close.” Her laugh was dark, bitter.
“Evalyn always has to have the upper hand. She could expose my indiscretion at any moment if she wanted to.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Why would she? What would she have to gain?”
“Ned made advances toward me when we first met, and she’s never forgotten it, though I had nothing to do with him in that way. That isn’t my style, to steal another woman’s husband.”
Ned made advances toward her? It made sense given her beauty, and yet somehow it stung a little, too. “And the others?” I asked. “Do they know about my brother?”
“They know everything because she told them out of spite one afternoon.”
So they’d all known the truth and had kept it from me to protect Carrie or, more importantly, to follow Evalyn’s wishes.
And then another memory surfaced. A memory as vibrant and real as the sunlight overhead burst behind my eyes. A memory of that night in November that I’d never forget.