o share it had so nearly tossed her life aside in anger.
Had part of it been her fault? She’d pressed him, made him angry.
Perhaps it was her fault, at least a little.
Tristan often got angry at her, too.
The last time they spoke, he was even angrier than usual.
Isabel returned with a silver tray. Underneath lay a bowl of soup, which turned the air thick with the scent of chicken. Crackers lined a small plate beside it, and a kettle of tea perched in her other hand. She set the food down on the wayward coffee table, nudging it back in place with a few quick shoves.
“Have you seen the news, madam?” she asked with an awkward little bob.
It dawned on Lila at last. The staff believed she mourned for La Roux. “I already know. The news claims that we were linked?”
“Yes, madam. They aren’t saying your name, but it’s easy to figure out. I mentioned to Chef how horrible your voice sounded. She made this for you, rather than the lamb.”
“It is appreciated. Thank you, Isabel. Both of you.”
Isabel bowed and disappeared into the hall with a swish of her skirts.
Lila couldn’t help but wonder where Alex had wondered off to.
She couldn’t help but wonder about Tristan, too. Tristan, who now knew that she had taken a lover, though a doomed lover at that.
He even knew the man’s name.
Lila poured a cup of tea and took a few spoonfuls of soup, then messaged her father. I suppose my mess is cleaned up now.
I didn’t believe it at first, he wrote back immediately. Did you visit Helen?
Yes, I’m fine.
She looked up to see Dubois, leaning against her doorframe as though emerging from a battle. His unwrinkled coat seemed at odds with his expression, and his eyes were lost and red and raw. After seeing him happy and relaxed for so many years, it was tough to see the change, especially when she knew her family had caused it.
“She told you,” Lila said in lieu of a greeting.
Dubois nodded and fell onto the couch beside her. “You sound horrible.”
“It’s just a cold. What did Jewel say?”
“She told me what she’s been slipping into my coffee and why. She told me she loved me. She said she’d still marry me even if I couldn’t have children. I almost hate her more for the last part.”
“I’m so sorry, Louis,” she whispered, using his given name for the first time in their long acquaintance. “I didn’t figure it out until this morning. I should have caught it earlier. I should have paid more attention instead of relying on accountants and—”
“Stop,” he said, wiping at his eyes. “Is it permanent? Is there really no way?”
“As far as I know, you will always be infertile.”
Dubois slumped over his lap. She had never been good at playing the supportive role, so she did not try. Or rather, she did the only supportive thing she knew how to do.
She wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin upon his shoulder. “I have evidence of what she has done. Sister or not, she should be brought up on charges. If you’re uncomfortable with others knowing about your condition, then I could get her five years for theft alone. It’s more than she’d get for the poison. She might have meant to render you infertile, but I don’t think anyone could prove she had any intention of harming you beyond that.”
“She didn’t, did she?” he asked hopefully.
“No, but that doesn’t change what she did. I could charge her with more if you’d come forward, but her sentence doesn’t really matter. She’s a prime heir. A chairwoman’s daughter. Many families will bid high for her mark at auction. She’ll end up a slave for the rest of her life.”
“I don’t think your mother would appreciate any charges at all.”