Silence passed.
Stale.
Jack looked left and right, filling himself in on the silent conversation. “So the wedding looked beautiful.”
West laughed.
And the room descended into silence.
Dinner was oppressive. It was dark. All of us in our best clothing, in gowns and suits, eating in sallow silence. I couldn’t say for certain if the du Lacs always ate this way, because my mother and Mrs. du Lac had such a deep-rooted rivalry.
“So…MSF?” my mother attempted.
“Jack is a dear family friend.” Something flickered in Mrs. du Lac’s eyes, something warm. “He’s known us longer than Lottie’s been alive.”
I glanced at Lottie. She was staring at Jack. Again.
“Right, dear?”
Mrs. du Lac tried to get her husband’s attention, but it was elsewhere. He gripped the leg of a maid, who smiled thinly. Mrs. du Lac smiled softly despite her husband’s reproach.
I placed my hand in Lottie’s. It felt wrong. I was still pissed at her for lying, but I was determined not to be that man.
Jack’s eyes flickered to our joined hands as he cut his steak.
“West will be taking Arthur’s place soon,” Mrs. du Lac said loudly as her husband slid his hand up the maid’s thigh. “After the New Year.”
“Retirement?” Jack said. “Never thought I’d see that day, Arthur.”
“Grayson will step into a more pivotal role at Crowne Industries as well,” my mother supplied. “It will be good to have some youth in the company.”
“Just two brothers working together,” West said, grinning at me.
And at that moment, Snitch came into the room. Though she did as all Crowne servants were trained to do—blend in—everyone watched her. Mr. du Lac stopped showering attention on the maid, turning back to us. He dug into the meal silently.
“Mrs. Crowne,” Story whispered. “You called for me?”
Before Lottie could respond, her father spoke.
“Isn’t this the girl that turned my daughter into a laughingstock?”
Snitch froze, still bent at a ninety-degree angle next to Lottie’s ear.
“I suppose it’s a good thing this was always about one thing from the beginning. Crowne Industries. Otherwise I might actually give a shit.”
“Daddy, please…” Lottie implored before turning to Snitch. “I… I spilled. I need you to prepare a new dress.”
Snitch nodded and left.
I didn’t like the way Mr. du Lac’s eyes followed Snitch as she exited, tracking her like prey. When Snitch had barely left, Mr. du Lac made some excuse about going to the restroom, pushing out his wooden chair.
“Arthur,” I said. “Lottie was telling me your grandfather had an interest in architecture?”
Mr. du Lac paused. “He was the first person to bring Châteauesque architecture to North Carolina…it’s a fascinating story. I’ll tell you all about it after dinner.” He glanced where Story had gone, and followed.
West and I shared a look.
As he got out of his chair, I started to push from mine. “I’ll be back.”