Evil Thing (Villains 7)

Anita could see I was struggling for words. Perhaps she felt guilty for being such a little twit at dinner. I didn’t know, but she tried to put her finishing school lessons to good use and change the direction of the conversation.

“How was your trip, Lady De Vil? I would so love to see America. Is it as wild and untamed as everyone says?”

But my mother didn’t lose a beat. She kept her eyes and questions fixed on me.

“Speaking of wild and untamed. Tell me how it was your father gave you a puppy, Cruella, considering he’s no longer with us?” She sipped the brandy Jackson had just poured for her, looking at both Anita and me like she might eat us whole. I suddenly felt very small. Like a little girl, afraid of my mother. She seemed like a wild beast contemplating her prey.

“Well, Mama, he arranged it with Sir Huntley before he died.” I hated how small my voice sounded.

“Clearly he arranged it before he died, Cruella. I didn’t imagine he rose from the grave to bestow puppies. But why on earth would you accept such a gift? And what possessed him to give you such a thing? Your father knew how I felt about animals, Cruella. He knew I didn’t want them in the house. We discussed it countless times while you were growing up. Always wanting to get you a puppy. Well, I suppose this was his way of getting the last word!”

“I suppose that would be the only way he could, Lady De Vil,” Anita said, smiling at my mother.

“Anita!” I blurted. “Stop needling my mama! This behavior of yours is becoming tiresome.”

I couldn’t stand the way Anita was acting. She was ruining everything. All I wanted was a lovely evening with my mama. A chance to be friends again. But Anita was taking every opportunity she could to make her angry with me.

“Mama, I adore Perdita. Please, won’t you give

her a chance? She’s an adorable little creature.”

“Cruella, I was hoping to spend more time at home with you. But if we’re going to have a puppy running around the house, I don’t see how that will be possible. I hate the creatures. Dirty, nasty things that they are. The only good thing about them is their fur! Now, if we made a nice muffler out of her to match my coat, then she would be useful.” Anita squeaked with fright and my jaw dropped in shock.

“Mama!” But before we could continue the conversation, Jack came into the room.

“Jack, hello! Just in time,” Mama said, smiling at him. The conversation quickly shifted back to Jack, and Mama directed it toward his many estates, his fortune, and his desire to find a wife to share his life with. She was clearly very keen on my marrying him. And I was starting to feel as if I wouldn’t fight her on it. I liked him. Both Mama and Anita were being beasts, and here, almost like magic, an exceptional man was plopped into my lap, possessing almost every quality I could possibly wish for. However, it was far too soon to be talking of such things.

But my mother kept pressing.

“So, Lord Shortbottom, I’m sure you’re eager to marry. A man of your status is probably eager to have an heir. Someone to continue your name. Someone to leave your fortune to. And you seem to have caught my Cruella’s eye. I wonder if we won’t be hearing wedding bells in the near future. My daughter is someone who does seem to get whatever she wants.”

“Mama!” I was scandalized. She knew I couldn’t take my husband’s name. And it was far too soon to be pressuring Jack into the notion of marriage.

“Oh, Cruella. You can’t deny I’ve been parading men past you for months now and you’ve not looked at a single one with interest. And in one evening you’re enchanted by Lord Shortbottom. Of course marriage is going to spring to mind, my dear. You can’t fault your dear mama for wanting the best for her favorite girl,” she continued, with a large grin on her face. “Lord and Lady Shortbottom. It has a ring to it, don’t you think?” I couldn’t believe my mother was acting this way. I was thoroughly mortified.

“Mother, you know that isn’t possible, and really, it isn’t the time to discuss this. Please, Mama. You’re making everyone most uncomfortable.”

“Please don’t censor yourself on my account, ladies. It’s refreshing to have a real conversation in an English drawing room. And since we are talking candidly, let me just say I would be the happiest man alive if your daughter agreed to let me court her. I am already completely besotted by her.”

I remember blushing. This wasn’t the first of this kind of conversation I’d had in my mother’s drawing room. But it was the first time I’d blushed.

“Well, Jack,” I said, still trying his name on for size, “even if I were to let a man court me, let alone marry him, my mother knows I cannot take my future husband’s name. It’s a condition in my father’s will. I am the last of the De Vil line, you see, and it was his wish I carry on his name. I’m sorry she misled you.”

“Well, I never really cared for my name. Lord Jack De Vil sounds a heck of a lot better than Lord Shortbottom,” he said, laughing. “Don’t you think?” And I did. I thought it sounded very well indeed. And I couldn’t have been happier to hear it. But the mood shifted in the room after his declaration. Perhaps Mama had too much to drink, or she was exhausted by Anita’s behavior, or the news of Perdita, or all of it, but she spiraled into one of her dark and brooding moods. The sort that would likely have her in her room for days, complaining of a headache. The evening ended on such a strange note, but not before Jack and I said our goodbyes in the drawing room. Mama had invented a reason to usher Anita out of the room, leaving us to part on our own.

“It was lovely meeting you, Jack,” I said, feeling so awkward about how the evening went, yet so thrilled to have finally met a man who captured my imagination.

“I hope I will be able to see you again,” he said. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he just came out and said it. He was such a direct man. So unlike the other men I was used to, endlessly talking around subjects.

“Will you be in London again soon?” I asked.

“If it meant I got to see you.” He flashed me one of his magic movie-star smiles.

“You’re not at all like the men I’m used to,” I said, almost blushing again.

“I hope that’s a compliment, Cruella. Should I invent a reason to come to London again?”

He always made me laugh, even from that very first night.