Page 63 of The Lost Lord
“We have quite a collection of Americans to help you feel right at home,” Adeline smiled. “Bea and I hail from North Carolina. And Lizzie, like you, is from New York.”
No.
Miriam froze as the petite figure in pale green muslin turned. “Hello, Miri.”
“Lizzie,” she gasped. Shock hazed her vision into a pinpoint until all Miriam could see was the face of the woman who’d tried to steal her life.
Chapter 28
“You know one another?” asked Harper, her mossy hazel eyes scanning Miriam’s face with concern.
“We were friends once,” Lizzie replied. A small smile like a satisfied cat’s flickered over her lips. Her cool blue gaze locked on Miriam’s and wouldn’t let go.
“Before you stuck a knife in her back and twisted it,” Mrs. Kent seethed. Her thin body radiated tension.
“Enough.” Miriam waved her companion into silence. She swallowed. The astonished ladies watched them face off like dueling rakes with pistols at dawn. If she didn’t end this now, Lizzie would haunt her for the rest of her life—and likely attempt to cut it short.
But how?
Miriam scanned her former friend from top to bottom, thinking. An empty wine glass dangled from her fingers until a servant plucked it from her grasp. Lizzie’s gaze never left hers.
Don’t let the ladies think you’re demented. You’ve only just met them.Miriam was in no position for a confrontation—which meant Lizzie had planned this interaction, too. She moved among people like the queen on a chess board, outmaneuvering everyone until she kicked them down and out of the game.
Because itwasall a game to her. Lizzie had never been her friend. She’d only pretended to be. Miriam had been so desperate for friendship, for affection, for her cursed adventure that she’d foolishly played into Lizzie’s hands.
So had Richard.
The icy glacier that had encased her heart ever since she’d found out about the depths of his betrayal cracked.
“How’s the baby?” she asked lightly.
Lizzie’s lips quirked up in a strange smile.
“There’s no child, is there?” Miriam asked.
“This is hardly a discussion to be held in front of our new acquaintances,” Lizzie commented. She raised the glass in a mocking toast. Beside her, Harper’s eyes widened.
“I don’t mind,” the countess interjected. Her lace shawl had crumpled into a pile on her skirts.
“I wasn’t planning to announce it this way, but I am also expecting,” Adeline said with bright eyes and flushed cheeks. Her gaze darted between Miriam and Lizzie like a badminton shuttlecock. Beatrice squealed and squeezed her sister. “Such matters are not ordinarily discussed, but we are all married ladies.” Adeline winked conspiratorially. “Tell me how you know one another.”
“From New York,” Miriam responded with as much neutrality as she could muster.
“I came here looking for a fresh start,” Lizzie said in clipped tones.
“Finally, Arthur sees the truth,” Miriam seethed. The pain this woman had wrought. On her. On Arthur. On Richard. For what?
Lizzie examined her wine. She cocked one hip. “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked slowly. Her nostrils flared.
The other women waited with bated breath.
“You married to escape your family’s control without ever intending to be faithful.” One of the women gasped. Miriam never took her eyes off her nemesis, but she knew it wasn’t Mrs. Kent. “You took advantage of him, the same way you took advantage of Richard, and tried to do with me. Is there no one you won’t betray for your own ends?”
Lizzie’s smirk faded into a sneer. “Such harsh accusations, Miri. It hurts my heart to hear a friend say this. I suppose you weren’t much of a friend after all. Always clinging to my skirts, waiting for something to happen in your pathetic, closed-off life. Ever unwilling to take a chance.”
Miriam inhaled sharply. Her anger surged. “Lizzie, I thought you were my friend. I would have given you what you needed. You needn’t have concocted a plan to kill me.”
“I never forced your hand, Miriam. It isn’t my doing if your lifetime is liable to be shorter than most.”
