so she made excuses and left.
Smith was not surprised when Freah took her leave, but she was wrong about the reason. In her own mind, Caroline Smith was simply too accomplished for other women to accept, they always felt threatened by her. She supposed that was why she got along better with men than women. They judged her on her abilities. In truth, if she had been able to read the minds of the men she credited with admiring her, she’d have been sorely disappointed.
Caroline saw Bethany and Philip in mutual consolation at one end of the table and the Elliots in a whispered conversation at the other. Smith didn’t like either option for company and instead walked to the window to see who would approach her first. Ten minutes later, she realized an uncomfortable truth and retired to her suite, angry at the ingrates who snubbed her.
$
Camille Jolivet watched Caroline leave. She had apparently been waiting for someone, yet no one had joined her. She was angry, but angry at whom? Camille filed the information away, even the smallest tidbit about a rival could prove useful at the right time. She considered another Gauloise, but decided instead to interrupt the odd couple opposite her. She smoothed her expensive clothes over her figure and noticed Philip take an interested peek. She smiled and moved over to the couple, exaggerating her walk to sway her shapely hips.
Janice Elliot ended her verbal assault on her husband as she saw the French woman approach them. “Not a word out of you, not one word. Until we know more, I don’t want to hear a goddamn peep, you understand?”
She turned away from her husband to greet the French girl, her tight expression breaking into a thin, unconvincing smile. “Hello. I’m Janice Elliot, Mr. Thurwell’s housekeeper from his Manhattan home.”
Camille sat next to Janice, noting that she made no attempt to bring the man into the conversation. They’re married, she realized. They had to be married. There was no mistaking the routine dismissal of her husband. Camille wondered why some men accepted being subjugated by their spouses, but since she despised weak men, she thought little of it as she introduced herself to Janice.
“How did you know Mr. Thurwell, Camille?” Janice was eager to discover why this foreign woman was included in the group. She was disappointed when Camille refused to say, even when pressed.
“I cannot say how I knew Monsieur Thurwell.” Camille refused to be drawn by questions, and while Janice knew the French girl was hiding everything about her relationship with Thurwell, she had no solution to Camille’s dogged refusal to answer. She changed the topic to discuss the other people in the room, a tactic designed to find out whom the girl may know or might admit to knowing. Her scheme was thwarted as it became clear that, with the sole exception of William Bird, Camille Jolivet had no prior acquaintances in the mansion.
Camille enjoyed the thrust and parry of the conversation. She sensed Janice’s curiosity and it pleased her to frustrate it. William Bird had always insisted she remain tight lipped about her real relationship with the philanthropist. Eventually, Camille grew tired of the questions and asked Janice a question of her own. “Do you know the quiet gentlemen beside you?”
Janice flushed. She had totally forgotten Dennis and hurriedly introduced him. “This is my husband, Dennis. He’s Mr. Thurwell’s manservant in the city.” He offered a hand as they greeted each other. Camille had briefly considered flirting with Dennis to annoy Janice, but his clammy hand made her shudder and turned her off the idea.
The two women engaged in a subtle conversational duel as they tried to figure each other out. Dennis was included in the conversation just frequently enough that he was forced to pay attention, but he preferred to drift into a comfortable numbness where he could contemplate his bleak future.
Dennis Elliot had not heard anything after