CHAPTER NINE

Lucas finishes his schoolwork early, and I allow him to spend the rest of the day outside with his camera.

I spend the rest of the afternoon in turmoil. I know that I need to do something about the evidence I've discovered, but I don't know what. I could go to the police, but what do I have other than a letter that was never sent? What could I hope to accomplish?

Perhaps the police would choose to investigate and not simply dismiss this out of hand in a desire to avoid reopening a year-old mystery involving one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in the region. What happens next?

They question Oliver, of course. Oliver expresses remorse over the letter and explains that he never sent it because as he wrote it, he realized how foolish it sounded and knew that he could never bring himself to hurt Minnie. Nor could he bring himself even to frighten her. He kept her letters because he misses his first true love, and they remind him of her. As for his letter, he never sent it, clearly, and never destroyed it because he still can't bear to think of her.

It's a questionable response, but what else is there to link him to Minnie? There's Sebastian's refusal to let the police search the grounds, but with nothing more concrete than an unsent letter to connect Oliver to the crime, the police could hardly force that issue. The Montclairs live abroad now, and if the police did contact them, would they give a different answer than what they've previously given? Do they even suspect the Carltons of wrongdoing?

It's too soon to come forward. I need more. Perhaps I should start by trying to learn what I can of Oliver's relationship with Minnie. The problem is that I don't know where to begin. Sebastian has made it clear he doesn't want her name spoken in this house, and if it gets back to him that I'm prying, then I could be in serious danger. At the very least, I will lose my employment. At worst…

They're the type of family that can make people disappear if they want.

I shiver at the thought, but it also gives me an idea. What information did Minnie have that could threaten the Carltons? Surely a relationship with Oliver wouldn't have caused a scandal. They're both of age, and she came from a wealthy family herself. I can't see that a romance between Minnie and Oliver—even one that ended badly—could cause them to want her killed.

But she did disappear, and evidence is starting to suggest that the Carltons know more than they're letting on. I need to find out somehow what Minnie knew that could threaten them. But how do I go about doing that?

A knock on the door interrupts my musings. That's odd. Who could be visiting during the afternoon on a Tuesday?

I don't answer the first knock, but when a second indicates that our visitor won't be dissuaded, I decide I should at least inform whoever it is that the Carltons aren't here. I look through the peephole and see a handsome young man who bears some resemblance to Oliver and Eliza, though he is not nearly so well-dressed. A cousin, perhaps?

I open the door, and before I can say anything, the young man barges past me into the house.

"Thank God!" he says. "I thought Lucas was playing a trick and keeping me out until the family came home. Lucas!" he calls. "Where are you, old chum? Come say hi to Cousin Finch!"

"Excuse me!" I say, rushing in front of him and holding out a hand to stop him. "And who are you?"

"Oh. How rude of me."

He grins rakishly and takes a deep bow. "I am Alistair Finchley, of the Devonshire Finchleys, not that that means anything. I am second cousin once removed of Sebastian Carlton, and that does mean something, or so I'm told. And who, if I may be so bold, are you?"

Upon closer inspection, I see his poor dress is due not to the quality of the materials, which are every bit as excellent as the clothing the Carltons wear, but due to the woefully mismatched sizes, colors, and styles. The long tuxedo coat clashes horrifically with the turtleneck and brown khakis. I don't believe that first appearances always reveal much useful information about people, but if his is to be believed, these choices are intentional.

"I'm Mary Wilcox," I reply. "I am tutor to Lucas."

"Tutor? Has he not graduated already?"

"It's his final year."

"Right. Well, I'm sure he'll do fine. He was always the smart one. Lucas!"

"He's outside," I say. "Seriously, sir, this is highly irregular. I suggest you leave a message for the Carltons, and—"

"Cousin!" I turn to the door to see Oliver striding forward, a grin on his face and arms outstretched. "How are you? God, it's been ages !"

"Only a coon's age, as they say in Kentucky," Alistair replies, returning the embrace. "Not that I would know as I've spent most of the past three years in Japan. Fascinating country, let me tell you. And the women… well…" He winks at me. "We'll save that conversation for later."

I'm so flummoxed that I don't realize the other Carltons have returned until I hear Eliza shriek, "Alistair!" and run into his arms.

Alistair's smile changes to one of longing and desperate lust. He sweeps Eliza off of her feet and kisses her full on the mouth, an action that for reasons I can't fathom doesn't seem to alarm the elder Carltons, who follow their daughter with equally delighted smiles.

When Eliza pulls away, Alistair's smile is back to what I suppose is his normal rakish look. "Eliza. Still prim and proper, I see."

"And you still dress like a clown. And that hair." She runs her hand through his long brown locks. "You look like a rocker."

Alistair laughs. "Ellie, you must listen to more modern music. No one's worn their hair like this since your parents were stealing kisses behind Jeannie's back."

"Alistair!" Veronica cries, paling and looking at me. "Enough of your wild tales."

He turns to her and says, "Without tales, life would be devoid of meaning. How are you, Aunt V?"

"I'm better now that you're here," she says, embracing him. "Provided you can keep that tongue of yours inside your mouth."

"Oh, I don't know," he says. He looks sideways at Eliza. "A tongue can be quite useful when it's outside of one's mouth."

They all laugh. Even Sebastian and Veronica. What in God's name is wrong with this family?

"Alistair, you should have called," Sebastian chides. "I would have had Henri prepare sushi for dinner."

Alistair grimaces. "Would you believe it, three years in Japan was finally enough to kill my taste for the meal. Besides, I'm sure I'll love whatever Mary would like for dinner."

He turns to me, and I stammer, "Um… I… well, the lamb the other night was lovely—"

"Lamb it is!" he cries. "Henri! Where is that French bastard?"

"He's at the market," Sebastian says. "You've caught us just in time. I'll call and have him pick up ingredients for lamb."

"You're a gem, Uncle! Now where is my cousin—Lucas! There you are!"

I turn to see Lucas standing in the doorway. He alone doesn't appear overjoyed beyond belief to see this flamboyant young man. Alistair doesn't appear perturbed at all by his youngest cousin's wariness, picking him up off the ground and swinging him around in nearly the same manner as he greeted Eliza, though without the kiss, thank heavens.

"Look how tall you are!" he exclaims. "God, you're taller than me! I'll bet you have girls scrambling for your attention all over Eton. Have any of them written you to lament your absence?"

Lucas blushes, and a small smile crosses his face. Alistair laughs and claps him on the shoulder. "Well, that is a story I have to hear! You see?" He turns to Veronica. "I told you he liked girls."

"Alistair!" Veronica exclaims. "Enough!"

She still smiles as he says it, and it's hard to tell if she's upset or simply playing a game. Perhaps both. Everything is games with these people.

***

Dinner is as animated an affair as Alistair's entrance. He regales them with tales of his tenure in Japan. All of his stories are exaggerated, most are risqué, and while I have no firsthand knowledge of the country or its people myself, I would venture a guess that much of what he says is simply untrue.

But the family listens to him with rapt attention. If anything, the adoration they show him is even greater than the affection they showed Sebastian on his return. For his part, Sebastian seems not to mind the intrusion at all. Perhaps they all live vicariously through Alistair. He is the carefree spirit that obligation prevents them from being. Even Lucas seems to lose his initial wariness, grinning and laughing with the rest and even admitting that yes, Tilly Fairfax did kiss him goodbye when he informed her he would be leaving the boarding school and completing his sixth form at home.

"Ha!" Alistair cries jovially. He elbows Lucas, not very gently, and says, "More than kiss, right? Right?"

Eliza rolls her eyes. "Alistair…"

"Maybe a little more," Lucas says softly.

Alistair pumps his fist triumphantly. "I knew it! This calls for a celebration! Sebastian, Veronica! I'm taking your children to Madrid!"

I stiffen in shock. He can't be serious!

To their credit, Veronica and Sebastian offer up some resistance to this.

"Oh, Alistair, come now," Sebastian says. "You can't simply spirit them away in the middle of the work week."

"Besides, Lucas has only just started his education," Veronica adds. "Perhaps a night on the town would be more appropriate."

"And cost-effective," Eliza says. "Your wealth isn't unlimited, Alistair."

"Nonsense!" Alistair says. "Oliver's paying for it. He owes me for talking him out of drastic measures when Minnie broke his heart."

The blood flees my face, but thankfully no one notices. Oliver, rather than reacting with the horror I expect him to, or the anger I suspect might follow, laughs and says, "It's true. You rescued me from making decisions I would certainly have regretted." He gestures to Sebastian, who wears a dark frown. "Although it might be best if we save that conversation for later."

"Quite right, quite right," Alistair says, lifting his hands placatingly. "Just imagine if you had sent that letter, though. You'd be the laughingstock of all of Eton."

"Alistair," Sebastian says warningly.

"Of course, of course. Anyway, I'll have them only for a night or two. Perhaps three. I promise I'll return Lucas safe, sound, and at least free of disease if not entirely pure." Lucas blushes beet-red at that. "It won't affect his education."

"Well…" Veronica says. Good God, can she be bending? What power does Alistair have over this family that he can convince her to allow Lucas to leave to a foreign country for three nights? And I am certain Alistair fully intends for him to drink and to spend his nights with a girl. Perhaps more than one.

"If Mary thinks it will be all right."

All eyes turn to me. Alistair clasps his hands in mock begging. I stare from face to face and wonder what power I have that twice now, I've managed to become a voice of authority in two families whose combined wealth eclipses that of some nations.

"I… well, I suppose—"

"Wonderful!" Alistair interrupts. "Children! Pack your bags and prepare for debauchery! Eliza, you may wish to call your husband and tell him that you'll be out of work for a few. God knows he'll get grouchy if he doesn't know where you are."

And that last comment is the only one to provoke tension. Veronica's smile fades, and Eliza flinches. "Dr. Chalmers will survive without me for a few days, Alistair," she says brittlely.

"Of course, of course," Alistair says. "What are you waiting for? Adventure awaits!"

The four of them leave the table, leaving two slightly exasperated parents and a very stunned governess.

As the shock wears off, suspicion grows. Alistair acts like a carefree soul, but between the intentionally slovenly dress, the aggressive cheer, and the almost taunting knowledge of family secrets, I can't help but wonder if there's a reason they tolerate him that goes beyond affection.

It seems I've stumbled on yet another layer to the web of deception in which the Carltons reside.