Page 95 of The Bridesmaid

I roll my eyes. ‘You didn’t even have the guts to stand up for Silky, in court.’

Ophelia’s steely expression wavers. It really is too pathetic. What did she expect me to do? Run away screaming?

‘You didn’t know I knew Silky asked you to testify, did you?’ I ask, tauntingly. ‘I bet Silky begged you to stand in the dock. The things you could have said about me. But you left her to be humiliated. Because you didn’t want it to come out in court that you’re in love with Adrianna Kensington.’

Her freckled face flushes a deep rosy pink. Ophelia’s hard expression vanishes, then resets to something else. A fawning kind of smile.

‘You know what?’ she says brightly. ‘Let’s just quit talking about school. It never did Silky any good, did it?’

‘No,’ I tell her. ‘It never did Silky any good.’

Chapter Seventy-seven

HOLLY

Adrianna assesses me coolly, glancing around to be sure the guards have left.

‘Well then, Holly.’ She smiles. ‘Aren’t you clever?’

‘I’m right then?’ I say. ‘Elysium was a former prison island.’

‘They called it a reform school,’ she says. ‘The philosophy was to tame fallen women and wayward girls from wealthy families before they fell into disgrace. Not that they had much success. Margaret Kensington fell apart in the tropical climate. Her regime was so harsh that most of the first wave of pupils died. They covered it up and claimed it was down to cholera. Kept taking on new pupils. Little joke on my dad by the English Kensingtons. This whole island is basically a grave.’

Her deep blue eyes stare distractedly into the distance.

‘It’s been a nightmare for construction,’ she adds. ‘The ground is unstable on the old burial sites. We’ve had to rebuild, like, so many times. Cost way more than we ever anticipated.’

‘So that’s the big family secret?’ I suggest, refilling our glasses and passing her one.

Adrianna sips distractedly, looking confused. ‘It’s more like a history we don’t widely disseminate. We don’t want guests knowingthey’ll be sipping martinis on the remains of dead prisoners. And Kensington Manor School is one of the most prestigious in the country. Doesn’t look good if the founding headmistress went insane in the Tropics, mistreating girls.’

I empty my tequila glass. This time it’s Adrianna who refills both.

‘Back in Dad’s day, the island history was just like a colorful addition. Now it’s not something we want to be associated with. The Kensington brand has a dark side. But the violent oppression of women?’ She wrinkles her slim nose. ‘Off brand. Completely off brand.’

I rub my temples. I feel as though I’ve been led down a rabbit hole. I’ve lost a lot of time. But I’m trying to think. Could someone be angry with the Kensingtons for their past cruelties, forty years after the fact? Unlikely.

Which means … I’ve got it all wrong. Put Fitzwilliam in danger.

Adrianna is looking at me coolly. ‘We’re all in the business of stories, Holly,’ she says. ‘Even you. Georgia looked you up. You’re a forensic. That means putting the right story to the court.’

‘I tell the truth,’ I say quietly. ‘According to the evidence.’

‘There are different kinds of truth, Holly. Haven’t you learned that by now?’ She turns back to the bar, a strange expression on her face, then switches her sapphire eyes on me.

‘I’m drunk,’ she says.

‘Me too,’ I admit. Although, given her size zero physique, I’m willing to bet, I’m not half so drunk as she is.

I pour us both another measure of tequila. Lift it to chinkglasses, then remember Fitzwilliam’s earlier advice and raise it high instead.

‘Here’s to Silky,’ I say. Adrianna nods sadly, her blue eyes thoughtful.

‘Holly,’ she says, ‘why do you think Silky did that? To Simone?’ She says it with such sudden raw vulnerability, I’m stunned. ‘Why did she cut her hair? Put her in my wedding dress?’

I consider the question.

‘I don’t think she did,’ I say, finally.