In that moment, I understood Vivian Thornton was not a woman easily lied to. She could probably detect dishonesty from a change in breathing.
“Yes,” I said.
Anna was not in the room. The door was closed.
Vivian’s fingers tightened on her cane. “What did he say?”
“He asked if we were married. He asked about you. Then he said Jason and car.”
Vivian closed her eyes briefly.
When she opened them, they were cold.
“I knew it.”
“You suspected Jason?”
“I suspected everyone.”
“That must be lonely.”
“It is efficient.”
I looked at Ethan. “Why didn’t anyone investigate?”
“There was an investigation. Jason cooperated beautifully. The police found nothing beyond poor road conditions and a driver who should have been more cautious.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“My grandson drove too fast when he was nineteen and foolish. Not at twenty-nine with a board vote scheduled for the next morning.”
“A board vote?”
Vivian looked toward the window. “Ethan intended to remove Jason from all operational authority.”
The room seemed to sharpen.
“Why?”
“That,” she said, “is what I need Ethan to tell us when he can.”
Breakfast with Jason took place on a terrace overlooking the river.
I did not want to go. Vivian informed me that wanting had become irrelevant but appearance had not. If Jason believed I was frightened, confused, and isolated, he would underestimate me. Vivian seemed to think this was useful.
“Let him,” she said while a maid pinned my borrowed hair clip into place. “Men like Jason often mistake quiet women for empty rooms. Leave the door open and listen.”
The dress they gave me was pale blue and too expensive for my life. I felt like a fraud wearing it. Then I remembered I had been married in a borrowed gown to an unconscious stranger and decided fraud might be the house dress code.
Jason was already seated when I arrived.
He stood smoothly, smiling as if yesterday’s chapel conversation had been an amusing introduction rather than the beginning of my dread.
“Claire. May I call you Claire?”
“You already did.”
His smile widened. “Fair.”
He pulled out a chair. I sat without thanking him.
The terrace was beautiful in a way that made the tension feel almost indecent. Morning sun turned the river silver. A breeze moved through white curtains tied to the stone columns. The table held coffee, fruit, pastries, soft-boiled eggs, and a small vase of yellow roses.
“My grandmother can be overwhelming,” Jason said, pouring coffee.
“She can be direct.”
“That’s a polite word for terrifying.”
“I’m still building my vocabulary.”
He laughed.
I could see why people trusted him at first. Jason had warmth on command. He knew how to lean forward at the right angle, how to make his attention feel like a gift. His dark blond hair was perfectly styled, his cufflinks tasteful, his expression open.
Too open.
“How was your first night as a Thornton?” he asked.
“Strange.”
“I imagine so.” He stirred his coffee though he had added nothing to it. “Ethan requires a great deal of care.”
“He does.”
“It can be upsetting, seeing someone like that.”
“Someone alive?”
His spoon paused.
Then he smiled again. “Of course.”
I lifted my cup. My hand did not shake. I was proud of that.
Jason watched me over the rim of his coffee.
“Vivian has probably told you I’m the villain of the family.”
“She hasn’t said much about you.”
“No? That’s unlike her. Silence is usually not her favorite weapon.”
“What is?”
“Inheritance.”
He said it lightly, but the word sat between us.
I looked toward the gardens below. “I’ve had enough talk of inheritance for one lifetime, and I’ve only been married a day.”
His eyes sharpened with interest.
“Your father received a generous settlement, I hear.”
“My father received payment for selling my choices.”
Jason’s expression shifted. Genuine surprise, perhaps. Or a well-made imitation.
“You resent the arrangement.”
“Shouldn’t I?”
“That depends. Many people would consider marriage into this family an opportunity.”
“Many people weren’t standing beside a groom who couldn’t say no.”
For the first time, Jason had no immediate answer.
Then he leaned back.
“You’re more honest than I expected.”
“That sounds like something people say right before they punish honesty.”
“No. I admire it.” He glanced toward the house. “This family suffocates truth until it becomes useful. You’ll learn that.”
“Is that a warning?”
“Advice.”