The Adventuress by TASHA ALEXANDER Page B

recall?—appropriate to celebrate an engagement. Jeremy insisted on whisky though, as he is wont to do, and you joined him.”
    â€œYes, I did,” Colin said.
    â€œMr. Fairchild did the same. Jack was content with champagne until his brother cajoled him into switching over, but Jeremy was unable to convince Mr. Neville. I remember it quite well.”
    â€œNot everyone wants whisky before dinner, Emily,” Colin said.
    â€œMr. Neville stated that he would prefer rum, and Jack goaded him about it, saying it was only fit for lowly sailors.”
    â€œI do remember this, Kallista,” Cécile said, nodding. “Monsieur Neville insisted that this was not the case, and that he had enjoyed it greatly when he visited the West Indies some years back.”
    â€œAnd he went on to say that he had never much cared for whisky, finding brandy far superior. Jeremy trounced him soundly over holding such a position,” I said. “Is it reasonable to believe that a gentleman, bent on ending his own life, would choose as his final drink a libation he has admitted to not liking?”
    â€œSuicides are not rational, Emily,” Colin said. “Neville was most likely intoxicated when he returned from the casino. We do not know why he had sunk so low, but for whatever reason, he chose that moment to end his life. I doubt very much that a man who did not care to leave any sort of note of explanation gave much consideration to the mixer for his poison. He drank whisky because there was nothing else in Bainbridge’s room.”
    â€œWhy didn’t he go to his own room?” I asked.
    â€œI haven’t the slightest idea. We have no way of knowing,” Colin said. “We can only know the conclusion, and it is a tragic and unsatisfactory one.”
    â€œWe always want there to be more, don’t we?” Margaret asked, passing Colin the cigar Cécile had rejected. “You are right, of course. None of us can be satisfied by what happened, and I think we must accept that if one is in a state of mind that allows for suicide, one is by definition incapable of rational action.”
    â€œI cannot agree with this, Margaret,” Cécile said. “There are many elaborate suicides, where the victim—or should I say perpetrator?—goes to great lengths to explain his actions.”
    â€œBut not always,” Colin said. “In this case, Neville may have acted rashly and with very little planning.”
    â€œI want to know more about what happened at the casino. What catalyzed this in him?” I asked. Colin put his hand over mine.
    â€œMy dear, sometimes we must accept that we cannot know everything. Uncovering every detail will not bring back Neville.”
    â€œIt might reveal this to be something other than suicide,” I said. “I will never believe that he would have poisoned the entire bottle. Not in Jeremy’s room.”
    â€œIt was a bloody waste of life, Emily,” Colin said, standing and crossing his arms. “Accept it as that and nothing more.”
    â€œI fear your husband is right, Kallista. There is nothing further for us to do here. Seeking more information can do little but increase the pain Monsieur Neville’s friends are already feeling. They miss him keenly and feel as if they let down a man who was always there when they needed support. To ask questions now—do you not think this would only cause Bainbridge to blame himself all the more?”
    â€œQuite right, Cécile,” Margaret said. “He is already miserable enough. He does not need his friends doing anything that would make him feel worse.”
    How could I object to such a sentiment?
    Â 
    Amity
    Five months earlier
    When at last the day came to leave India, Amity made a careful study of her every emotion, but could not identify so much as an ounce of regret or sadness. This came as a surprise, for she adored the subcontinent with a passion she