Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
Russ adjusted the collar of his crisp dress shirt, feeling oddly out of place in the formal attire provided by Madame Fournier’s staff. He glanced at Hillary, who was already dressed and ready, looking stunning in a deep burgundy gown that complemented her hair and gave her an air of elegant mystery. If this situation wasn’t so complicated, he might even acknowledge how stunning she looked. Instead he gave her a nod and tried to stay focused on the mission at hand.
Staying here was far better than any of the dank and dangerous motels they’d been shuttled to. But he wasn’t exactly sure he was ready to get mixed up in someone else’s mess. Especially without any details. But there was no time to protest.
They were escorted down a wide, sweeping staircase that led to a grand dining room, a room that seemed to belong in a bygone era. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm, golden light over the massive table that dominated the space. The table was set for over thirty guests, each place meticulously arranged with gleaming silverware, fine china, and delicately folded napkins. An opulent centerpiece ran the length of the table, decorated with fresh flowers, trailing ivy, and tall, slender candles that flickered gently.
As they were led to their seats, Russ noticed a young woman with tight, dark curls and large, almost doll-like eyes sitting near their assigned spots. She had an air of quiet poise, though her gaze was alert, assessing everyone who came near. When she noticed Russ and Hillary approaching, she offered a polite smile, her expression kind but guarded.
Russ and Hillary took their seats on either side of the woman, who introduced herself as Claire. The first course was brought in with the sort of reverence one might reserve for presenting a royal treasure. Delicate bowls of velvety butternut squash soup, drizzled with a swirl of cream and garnished with microgreens, were placed in front of each guest. The rich aroma wafted up from the bowl, and Russ couldn’t help but appreciate the craftsmanship that went into such a simple dish.
As they began their meal, Hillary leaned toward Claire with a warm smile. "Claire, it’s lovely to meet you. I’m Hillary, and this is my husband, Russ."
Claire returned the smile, though her eyes remained cautious. "It’s a pleasure," she said politely, her voice soft but clear. "Are you both enjoying the estate?"
"Very much," Hillary replied smoothly, settling into her role. "It’s beautiful here, isn’t it? And I hear there’s a big celebration coming up?"
"Yes," Claire nodded, her tone polite but distant. "The estate’s anniversary. It’s always quite an event. I’ve had to come here every year since I was five years old. Almost everyone at this table has been here every year," she responded with a resigned sigh. Her gaze drifted briefly to the other guests, then returned to her soup, as though she were trying to gauge how much to reveal.
Hillary kept her expression friendly and open. “Ugh, that must be claustrophobic.” She took a spoonful of soup and looked partially distracted.
“It is,” Claire replied, obviously looking as though she’d been seen for the first time. “You can’t imagine how right you are. I feel like I’m in a bad dream I can’t wake up from. But these little gatherings aren’t exactly optional. I’m basically a hostage.”
Russ tried to dissect what she was saying and look for the subtext. Was she actually a prisoner? Was someone forcing her to be here?
"Trust me I know,” Hillary said with a sigh. “The obligations never seem to end. My mother thinks my entire schedule should be filled with social events. Like, honestly, I have a life. How many crab puffs can someone even eat in a life time?”
“I’m going for my PhD and mother acts like I’m taking a pottery class and should just spend less time on a hobby. She’d much rather I was married and pushing my career to the very back burner.”
“PhD, wow, my mother crushed my dreams way earlier. I’d say you’re still in the fight. Impressive.” Though Hillary lowered her voice, Russ could still make out the connection growing between the two women.
"Yes," Claire confirmed, and a flicker of genuine interest seemed to spark in her eyes. "I’m working in biomedical science. It’s... challenging, but I love it."
Russ perked up, intrigued despite himself. "Biomedical science? That sounds impressive. What are you working on specifically?"
Claire hesitated, but a hint of pride softened her guarded expression. "I’m part of a lab team researching treatments for chronic sinusitis. It might sound minor, but it’s actually a big deal for people who suffer from it. We’re developing a treatment that targets inflammation at the cellular level. It could end up having impacts on a myriad of other medical fields."
“Claire, darling, what are you wearing to the party?” an older woman with pinned back gray hair and a sharp chin interrupted.
“Grandma, I’m not really sure. Whatever mother packed for me. I didn’t look.”
The woman hummed disappointedly. “A woman your age shouldn’t rely on her mother to pack her party gowns. It’s shameful. You spend all your time in a lab coat. You’ll never find a husband that way.”
“Yes, Grandma,” Claire replied obediently.
Hillary nodded, clearly interested. "Your work sounds fascinating. I imagine it must be incredibly rewarding."
Claire’s gaze softened, and for a moment, her guard seemed to drop. "It is. There’s something deeply satisfying about working toward a solution that could improve people’s lives, even in small ways. It makes all the late nights in the lab worth it."
Russ noticed a slight shift in Claire’s demeanor, a subtle vulnerability that had emerged as she spoke about her work. It was clear she was passionate and driven, but he also sensed something more was beneath the surface—something unsaid.
Just as he was about to ask her more, the second course arrived, and the table fell into polite murmurs of appreciation for the beautifully plated dishes in front of them.
“We should get out of here after dinner,” Hillary whispered between bites. “There has to be somewhere we can actually have some fun.” She leaned across Claire and playfully waggled her brows.
“This place is a fortress,” Claire replied somberly. “I’ve been trying to find my own little escapes for the last twenty years. Once you’re in, you’re in for the night. They won’t bring your car back around for you. You can’t exactly call a cab. The house is miles away from any decent civilization.”
Hillary wasn’t deterred. “It’s a huge estate. There has to be somewhere. Staff must let their hair down occasionally too. The kitchen?”
Claire shook her head, though she did seem intrigued by the possibility. “There is a library upstairs. It used to be where the men went after dinner to smoke cigars but Madame Fournier locked it up after her husband died. I could get the key from Sophie.”
“She’d give it to you?” Russ asked, looking doubtful.
“Sophie and I grew up together here. Her mother had her job first and she grew up living on the property, then took over the role when her mother retired. She knows I find this whole thing suffocating. She’ll give me the key. Do you think you can swipe some bottles of brandy? We could meet there around ten. Everyone is usually out cold by then.”
“Perfect,” Hillary said with a grin before raising her voice. “Claire, you are absolutely brilliant. Tell me more about the work you are doing in the biomedical field? It sounds as though you have a bright future ahead of you.”
Claire’s grandmother snapped back to attention and puckered her lips. “Claire, don’t bore them with that nonsense. You should be asking that fine gentleman if he has a brother.” Russ didn’t skip a beat.
“I do,” Russ beamed. “He really admires women with drive and exceptional intelligence.”
Hillary let a little giggle slip out as she hid her smile behind her glass of wine. The conversation shifted away from the three of them and down to another part of the table where someone was discussing a holiday ski trip they were planning.
“You two will be in big trouble later,” Claire whispered. “But thank you.”
“At least we’ll get a lot of reading done in the library later,” Hillary smirked.