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“That would be ridiculous!” everyone echoed.

And then silence fell onto their circle like a bad omen. Victoria managed to take only a tiny sip and was forced to put the cup back in her saucer lest she spill it in its entirety. “You don’t think he would do that, do you?”

The shakes of their head and gestures of denial became less confident.

“You were married for two years without any contact,” Olivia said with a shrug. “Who is to say he doesn’t have a mistress in town?”

“I was away from my husband for two years and neither of us had found lovers or mistresses during that time,” Annalise countered.

“Yes, but Blake was going through a traumatic ordeal while you were grieving. And you were ready to marry another man, might I add,” Lavinia chimed in.

“Men can be quite selfish in their needs,” Caroline added. “And William is the most selfish of them all.”

Victoria looked down, her heart heavy as a rock. That was not the reassurance she was looking for.

“Are you sure it isn’t his handkerchief?” Lavinia asked cautiously.

“Aside from knowing which soap we use to wash our handkerchiefs and which perfumes we have in our house, I also happen to know that he carries exclusively blood-red handkerchiefs,” Victoria said and pulled out the handkerchief he’d given her the night they met for reference. “Like this.”

Lavinia wrinkled her nose. “Why are they all blood red?”

“Probably to hide the sight of blood once he wipes his hands on it?” Caroline ventured a guess.

“Yes!” Olivia said excitedly. “Perhaps he doesn’t have a mistress; maybe he just killed a woman.”

A brief pause was followed by chortles of laughter.

“I don’t think that’s better, dear,” Caroline said.

Olivia covered her mouth with her hand, holding back a chuckle. “I have to admit to not thinking my theory through.”

“I don’t think he has a mistress,” Helen said rather confidently for a woman whose late husband kept not one but several mistresses during their marriage.

“You don’t?” Victoria forced herself to swallow hope.

Helen let out a deep breath. “I don’t know William very well, obviously. But I have been in a marriage where my late husband had a few mistresses the entire time. He didn’t keep it from me, so I knew he was visiting mistresses. I know that I am just speaking from my own experience and yours will be different. But I am just now starting to realize how wrong our relationship was all this time. All the time I thought he loved me, he just loved the attention I gave to him. He loved being loved. And that’s why he kept mistresses. He was too charming, dare I say beguiling.”

Victoria pursed her lips. “William is quite charming.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t care to be. Everybody hates him. Everybody. And yet the only person he seems to care about is you. So, I highly doubt that he would have you locked up in his home and go to his mistress.”

“I have to agree,” Lavinia said. “And I know what you’re going to say, that I am charmed by him as well, but of everyone here, I was probably the only one who saw you two interact, and the way he looks at you… I just don’t think he has eyes for anyone else.”

“What can you really tell by a look?” Caroline murmured under her breath. “And why does it even matter? Why do you care if he’s romping around with other women? As long as he is not bothering you, I’d think you’d be glad that he is gone at night.”

Victoria bit her lip. She didn’t confide her doubt and her conflicting feelings toward William with Caroline or the others. Only Lavinia and Frau Elinor had been present during that conversation. And even they didn’t know the full truth of what had transpired between them. They didn’t know about the day she had made stew or the morning when they baked bread together. They didn’t know that her heart skipped a beat every time she saw him. And she didn’t plan on sharing those details with them.

So, she raised her chin and lied, “It’s not about whether I care that he is with another woman or not. It’s just the principle of things. He is forcing me to live with him for three months as his wife. So, he shouldn’t be seeing other women in the meantime. But I don’t even think he has a mistress. The fact that he is keeping secrets bothers me the most.”

“Well, if you really want to find out, there are ways,” Caroline said after a sip of tea.

“Are you suggesting spying on him?”

Caroline lifted her shoulder in a delicate shrug. “I can do it if you want.”

“Or I can ask my husband to,” Olivia suggested.

“So can I,” Helen chimed in.