Maeve drove the Range Rover past the guard at Maynard-King, and Kate noticed how they exchanged friendly greetings. It had been very different when they had entered the grounds just two days ago, when Kate had still believed that Maeve cared about her and Conor. She stared at the back of her head, feeling shaken to her core.
When they approached the main hospital building, Kate wondered if she would be taken inside. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins; it had been since that morning, at Fernando’s studio. But instead of pulling up to the front door, Maeve drove around the building to the little white house with green shutters.
“You’re taking me to the business office?” Kate asked, remembering how Conor had knocked on the door, looking for Darla Vandeveer and information about Leprince de Beaumont Associates: LP de BA.
Nobody answered her. When Maeve stopped the car, Crispin got out and opened the back door for Suzanne. They both walked away without a word. Kate watched them go up the hospital stairs and disappear inside. She glanced at Caroline and raised her eyebrows, asking if she knew what they were doing. Caroline mouthed the wordWait.
That silent communication reminded Kate of seeing Maeve on the Ocean House security footage.
“You went to a lot of trouble,” Kate said to Maeve, still in the driver’s seat. “To lay the groundwork for whatever this is. Saying ‘help’ to the camera?”
“Let’s not, Kate,” Maeve said. “It wasn’t personal.”
“You dropped this,” Kate said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the gold chain.
“Thank you,” Maeve said, reaching between the front seats to take it from Kate. But Kate’s hand closed around it, and she pulled it back.
“What do you mean, ‘it wasn’t personal’?” Kate asked. “Of course it was. You worked in my gallery, helped me plan my wedding. Had you known all along that it wouldn’t happen, that it would be ruined?”
Maeve stared at Kate in the rearview mirror.
“You must have known,” Kate said. “I’ve heard all about how Belinda tricked Garrett into inviting her. And since it turns out you and Belinda knew each other, I’m sure you both had fun planning it. Hiring Suzanne to write out the place cards. And was it you who slipped that little ‘mistake’ into the wedding program?”
Kate pictured the program. She had looked at it just last night and caught the word that hadn’t been in the text she had originally given Maeve to send to the printer:
Kate Woodward & Conor Reid
Saturday, July 3
Ceremony 6:30 p.m.
Watch Hill Chapel
Belles will ring!
Dinner and Dancing to Follow
Ocean House
“‘Belles will ring,’” Kate said. “You put that in for Belinda, didn’t you?”
But Maeve didn’t reply.
Maeve got out, then held the back door for Caroline and Kate. Kate slid across the seat slowly. When she stepped out of the car, Maeve put one handcuff on her left wrist and snapped the other on Caroline’s right wrist, securing them together.
The links rattled when Kate and Caroline began to walk. Kate couldn’t stop feeling that with every inch, she was getting farther away from Conor. She and Caroline followed Maeve to the front door. A woman answered, and Kate recognized her as Gabrielle, from the last visit.
Gabrielle led them into what looked like a professor’s office, if the office was in Versailles. The pale gray-blue wall panels were decorated with ornate gold-leafed carvings of birds, vines, and leaves. There was a cream-colored Louis XV–style writing desk, similar to one that Kate had bid on at auction a few years before. A stack of books sat on the desk’s surface. The gold-bordered green leather blotter was piled high with file folders.
There were two sitting areas at either end of the room, with formal blue silk-upholstered French furniture. The chairs had tapered legs with fluted columns, the gold-leafed arms adorned with carved rosettes and laurel leaves. Kate took in the atmosphere, feeling sick. The designer had tried to make this space romantic—half boudoir, half classroom.
Above the door was a carved sign with a blue background and gold letters that spelled:
The Finishing School
Behind the desk was a blackboard with sticks of white chalk in the tray. A pointer leaned against the wall. Written on the blackboard were a series of phrases:How may I please you? I’m ready to obey. Thank you for guiding me. I submit to your will. I will keep your secrets. I love you and I know you love me.
A side table held a pile of drawing pads, small bottles of India ink, and crow quill pens, just like the one Suzanne had used to write theplace cards. Kate glanced down and saw that someone had been practicing calligraphy, copying the disturbing lines that were written on the blackboard. She noticed that there were inkblots and cross outs, as if the writer couldn’t bring herself to complete the assignment.
