Chapter 3: What Richard Didn't Say
I didn't sleep.
I sat on the edge of the guest bed with the ruined dress across my lap, running my fingers over the slashed silk.
The scissors were still on the mattress where Eleanor had left them.
I couldn't bring myself to move them.
Around midnight, there was a knock at the door.
Julian came in and stopped when he saw the dress.
He crossed the room in three steps and crouched in front of me.
"My father told me," he said.
"I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry she did this."
"Did you know she hated me this much?"
He didn't answer right away.
That was its own answer.
"She's always been difficult," he said carefully.
"Difficult." I looked at him.
"She took scissors to my mother's dress, Julian.
The night before our wedding.
That's not difficult.
That's something else."
He reached for my hand.
"She's gone.
She won't be there tomorrow."
"She said she knows something about my family." I watched his face.
"What does that mean?"
Something moved behind his eyes.
Fast.
Gone before I could name it.
"She says things to upset people.
You know that."
"You're doing the same thing your father did," I said.
"You both go quiet at exactly the wrong moment."
Julian stood up.
"Let's just get through tomorrow.
Please."
"I need you to tell me there's nothing to know."
He looked at me for a long moment.
"There's nothing to know."
But he said it to the window, not to me.
I was still awake at two in the morning when I heard footsteps in the hallway — slow, deliberate, stopping outside my door.
I held my breath.
They moved on.
In the morning, one of the housekeeping staff, a woman named Dora who had worked for Richard's family for twenty years, brought me tea and a folded note.
I opened it.
*There are things you should know before today.
Meet me in the garden at seven.
Come alone.
— R*
Richard.
I read it twice.
I looked at Dora.
"Did he say anything else?"
"Only that you should come before the others wake up," she said.
Then, quietly: "Miss, I've worked in this house a long time.
Whatever Mr.
Richard tells you this morning — believe him."
She left before I could ask what she meant.
I set the note on the nightstand next to the ruined dress.
May you like
Outside the window, the garden was still gray with early light.
Seven o'clock was forty minutes away.
