Читать книгу Beloved Enemy - Terri Reed - Страница 11

Juliet took a moment to still her thoughts, praying out loud, “Lord, You are in control and I trust You. Bless me with Your presence and let Your will be done in my life.”

On a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped into the mudroom, though she doubted the tiled floor and porcelain sink had seen much mud since she’d left home at seventeen. She smiled to see her fuzzy tiger-print slippers waiting for her by the door that would take her into the hall of the main floor.

Kicking off her big, clunky boots, she slipped her feet into her slippers and then shuffled into the body of the house. She passed through the stainless steel, state-of-the-art kitchen where the chef and his assistant were busy preparing the evening meal. The smells of spices and savory roasted meat teased her senses and she dropped her bags to see what samples she could snag.

“Ah, Miss Juliet, you are home,” the chef, Andre, boomed before wrapping her in a quick bear hug. Andre had been with the Blanchards for more than a decade and had overseen the remodel that had updated the kitchen.

“What are we having tonight?” she asked, peering into the simmering pots.

“Lamb, herbed rice, winter vegetables and fresh bread,” Andre replied as he resumed his culinary work.

Marco, the newest assistant in a long line of assistants, waved Juliet over. He’d befriended Juliet months earlier when he’d discovered her weakness for desserts. He uncovered a tray piled high with powdered squares. “Lemon bars,” he said and nodded with his head for her to take one.

Mouthing a silent oh, Juliet snagged one from the top and popped the whole square in her mouth. She closed her eyes in delight as the sweet and tart flavors burst against her taste buds. She gave Marco a thumbs-up before grabbing her bags and continuing on through the house.

Every time Juliet came home she was struck by the majesty and castlelike interior of the huge stone mansion, especially the foyer. Dark and forbidding, like some medieval fortress. The huge, round mahogany table, decorated with a large, sparkling crystal vase full of brightly colored, specially grown flowers, sat center stage.

But it was the sweeping walnut staircase that brought a smile to Juliet’s lips as she remembered sliding down the wide, ornate banisters. She and her sister Delia would have such fun zooming down and then racing up the stairs. Their father had hated when they acted like tomboys. Juliet had learned to wait until her father left the house before having her fun.

Now Juliet vaulted, as best she could in her fuzzy slippers, up the stairs, eager to get to her room before facing her siblings. She could hear them gathered in the parlor to the right of the staircase. The echo of their voices followed her, pricking her conscience with guilt for not immediately saying hello to them.

She made it undetected to her bedroom. Airy and light with splashes of color, the room was a welcome relief to the darkness of the rest of the house.

She quickly unpacked and freshened up. The drive from Vermont had been long and especially tiring on such a stormy night. A quiet knock on the door made her cringe. Busted.

She opened the door to find her aunt, Winnie, standing in the hall. Her faded red hair was up in her usual chignon and her warm hazel eyes regarded Juliet with affection.

“Hi, Auntie,” Juliet said as they embraced.

“I was checking on dinner and Andre mentioned you were home.” Winnie held Juliet at arm’s length. “Why are you sneaking around? Your sisters and I have been anxiously waiting to see you.”

“I know. I just needed a moment to get settled, that’s all.” Juliet shrugged

Winnie hugged her again. “Of course, dear. I understand. Now, let’s join your sisters for a few moments before dinner is served.”

Arm in arm, Juliet and Winnie descended the stairs. At the parlor door, Juliet paused as Winnie stepped in. Love and pride for her siblings filled Juliet’s heart, replacing the earlier need for a quiet moment. Each one was dear and special. And, like herself, named after one of Shakespeare’s heroines. Juliet would do anything to make them happy.

“Juliet!” exclaimed Bianca, who rushed forward to squeeze her tightly. Bianca’s straight, dark hair brushed over her tailored suit.

“Welcome home, sis,” called Portia from where she sat on the floor near the fireplace. Beside her, Portia’s twin sister, Nerissa, whom they called Rissa for short, blew Juliet a kiss. A board game lay between the twins. Most likely to distract themselves from the storm brewing outside.

Juliet had always envied the twins’ long, dark curls and petite frames. They were exact images of each other and extremely beautiful. They had a special bond that none of the other sisters could enter into and that made Juliet feel even more the outsider.

Her eldest sister, Miranda, sat on the settee with an afghan wrapped about her shoulders. Her wavy brown hair was pulled back in a twist, emphasizing her delicate features. Her golden-brown eyes stared at Juliet with concern. “I was getting worried, with the storm and all.”

With an arm around Bianca’s waist, Juliet moved into the room. “I made it just fine, Miranda. How are you doing?”

“Better now that everyone is here,” Miranda said softly.

Juliet accepted the answer even though they all knew Miranda had dodged the real issue. For years Miranda had suffered from a mild case of agoraphobia, which kept her from moving away from the manor. And, like her other sisters, Miranda hated storms.

Winnie took a seat next to Miranda. Bianca led Juliet to the second settee that faced the other two ladies. Portia and Rissa abandoned their game to move closer.

“I wish Delia were here,” Juliet said softly. She could see the same sentiment in the eyes of each sister. Thankfully last month, Delia, short for Cordelia, had come home for the Winter Festival, an annual event that none of the girls would ever miss. But Delia’s absence now left the circle of sisters incomplete.

“We’ll call her later,” Bianca stated in her brisk way and patted Juliet’s hand.

Grateful to the sister who had stepped in to be her mentor and protector, Juliet gave Bianca a smile. For a moment all the women sat in silence, and Juliet wondered if they, too, were reluctant to talk about their mother.

Growing up in this house, the girls were all forbidden to breathe their mother’s name, let alone ask questions of their father about her. Only Aunt Winnie kept their mother alive in their hearts with stories of her, unbeknownst to their father.

That same oppressive silence threatened to keep them all from speaking now.

Forging ahead to get the inevitable over with, Juliet said, “So. From the last conversation we had on the phone, I take it there is more news.”

“Portia, why don’t you fill Juliet in,” Bianca said.

Portia nodded. “Mick uncovered paperwork that shows when Grandfather retired from the company and named Father CEO, Father, in turn, named all of us as heirs to his majority stock shares.”

Juliet let the meaning of Portia’s words sink in. “Me, too?”

Portia’s dark eyebrows drew together. “Of course, you, too. All of us would have equal share in the company.”

For Juliet, this news was welcome. That their father would include her with the others as his heirs said at least he didn’t hate her. She wouldn’t go so far as to say he loved her. Ronald Blanchard wasn’t big on affectionate demonstrations, at least with his daughters, Juliet in particular.

For some reason, one Juliet suspected she knew, Ronald kept a physical as well as emotional distance from his youngest child. Juliet assumed it was because, unlike the other girls, her looks favored their mother. She was the oddball and always felt a bit out of place among the other dark-haired, dark-eyed girls.

“That’s great.” Juliet turned her gaze to Aunt Winnie, their father’s only sibling, who sat quietly beside Miranda with her hands folded primly in her lap. The exact details of the news struck Juliet. “But what about Aunt Winnie? Why wouldn’t she be included? That stinks.”

Winnie looked up, affection for her niece shining bright in her hazel eyes. “I’m sure Father and Ronald know what’s best.”

Juliet exchanged a glance with Portia, who rolled her eyes at her aunt’s statement.

Rissa spoke up. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that. Not after what we found out about how Grandfather took ownership of the factory.”

All the girls nodded in agreement. It had been a blow to learn that their grandfather hadn’t built Blanchard Fabrics from the ground up as they’d all been told. Howard Blanchard had used some less than ethical tactics to acquire the factory from a man named Lester Connolly.

Grandfather and Lester Connolly apparently once loved the same woman, who chose Lester over Howard. In retaliation, Howard went after the man’s company. The whole ordeal was much too sordid and embarrassing to think about. Especially now with Grandfather’s Alzheimer’s advancing so rapidly.

Juliet suppressed a shudder. She prayed that neither she nor her sisters would be afflicted with the dreaded disease in the future. It was so hard watching a vibrant man decline.

Juliet turned her gaze to Bianca. “Is there anything we can do to include Aunt Winnie?”

Bianca frowned. “I don’t know. I’ll have to check into it.”

“You’d better tell her the rest,” Mirada prodded.

Bianca gave her hand a squeeze. “There’s more.” She looked to Portia. “Portia?”

Juliet braced herself as she turned her attention back to Portia.

Portia’s dark eyes were filled with an intensity that made the hair at Juliet’s nape stand on end. “Mick also recently discovered a document with our mother’s signature on it. The paper was dated a year after her supposed death and gave Father full custodial rights to all of us.”

A sharp thudding started behind Juliet’s left temple. She tried to rein in the anxious flutter of dread that took flight in her stomach. “First that picture dated after Mother’s death and now a document dated after her death? How can this be?”

“Apparently Daddy lied to us,” Miranda stated, her complexion going even paler.

“Apparently,” Juliet repeated dryly. Of Bianca, she asked, “Have you authenticated the document?”

Bianca nodded. “It’s legal. Assuming it’s our mother’s signature,” she added. “We’ve sent it to a lab that specializes in verifying signatures. We should know soon.”

“It might not be her signature, right? Just like the photo Leo gave you. The date could be wrong. Both could be some kind of sick joke or a mistake.”

Juliet saw the flash of hurt in Bianca’s eyes. Leo Santiago and Bianca were dating now, even though Leo had been working for their father with orders to bring Bianca into the family business. He’d quit working for Ronald because he didn’t like being manipulated, especially since he fell in love with Bianca. He’d even moved to Boston to be near Bianca.

“I’m sorry, Bianca. I can’t help being skeptical about the date written on the back of the photo. That could have been written at any time by anyone. Just because the date is after Mother’s death, doesn’t prove she’s alive. Neither does this latest piece of ‘evidence.’”

“You know I discovered that Mother may have been at the sanitarium in Chicago,” Bianca said grimly.

Juliet cringed. “I know nothing of the sort. You didn’t find her. All you found were more questions, more dead ends and nothing but false hope.”

Rissa jumped to her feet. “Juliet, how can you be so mean?”

Portia rose, as well. “Come on, Juliet, you have to see that things don’t add up.”

Juliet shook her head. “I’m not trying to be mean, Rissa. And you’re right, Portia, things don’t add up.” She shifted her gaze to Bianca, hating the tears she saw shimmering in her eyes. “I just don’t want more pain. For any of us.”

It had been agonizing growing up under the dark cloud of their mother’s abandonment and death. To be stirring up the old fears and hurts now couldn’t be good for any of them.

In a steady voice, Bianca stated, “I’m sure in my heart that our mother is alive and I plan to keep trying to find her.”

And she would keep at it, Juliet had no doubts. “But at what cost?”

She could see that Bianca understood her meaning. Emotionally this quest would have a high price tag.

Aunt Winnie pleaded, “Girls, really, you shouldn’t fight.”

“We’re not fighting, Auntie,” Juliet reassured her. To her sisters, she asked, “Have any of you talked to Father about the document?”

Portia sat on the arm of the settee. “No. He’s still off in Europe with what’s-her-face.”

Rissa began to pace. “Oh, don’t get me started on that tickle-brained baggage. Let me tell you—”

Juliet suppressed a giggle at Rissa’s use of a Shakespearean insult.

“I hate this,” Miranda blurted out. “Families shouldn’t be like this.”

Juliet didn’t know what a normal family was supposed to feel like.

Aunt Winnie put an arm around Miranda. “Don’t upset yourself, dear. It’s not good for you.”

Rissa whirled around to face her sisters. “I sometimes feel like I’m stuck in a bad soap opera.”

A smiled tugged at Juliet’s mouth. Leave it to the artsy playwright, Rissa, to put things in perspective. The situation was a bit melodramatic. But for now it was their reality. “We have each other, don’t we?”

“Of course we do,” Bianca agreed. The others all nodded.

“Then we stick together,” Juliet stated firmly. “If you need to pursue looking for Mother, then we all do.”

Bianca gave her a grateful smile. “I want to start with the night Mother died. We all heard the raised voices. I want to know what that was about.”

Tightness pulled at Juliet’s chest. She’d been only a baby that night. She had no memories of her mother at all, not even the sound of her raised voice, to cling to.

Rissa snorted. “Only Father can tell us, and you know he wouldn’t, even if he were home.”

“What about Grandfather? Would he know anything?” Juliet asked.

Portia shrugged. “I’ll ask him. But he’s not doing so well these days.”

Portia and their grandfather had always had a good relationship. Juliet had even less of a relationship with her grandfather than she did with her father. Not that long ago, at Aunt Winnie’s sixtieth birthday party, Grandfather had nearly attacked Juliet because he’d thought she was her mother. This only supported Juliet’s theory that the Blanchard men kept Juliet at an emotional distance because she looked too much like her mother.

Judging from the few pictures Aunt Winnie had been able to tuck away of Trudy Blanchard, Juliet could easily have passed as Trudy’s sister. They both had the same long, platinum-blond hair and green eyes.

“Well, I can snoop around the company and Father’s office to see if I can find out anything,” Juliet offered.

“No!” Portia exclaimed.

“You shouldn’t,” Miranda said, her eyes wide with worry.

Bianca shook her head. “You concentrate on your new job. Let us do the investigating.”

Not telling them what to do with their patronizing and overbearing protectiveness took every ounce of self-control Juliet possessed. They were her sisters and they loved her, this she knew, but sometimes…being the baby stank.

“Whoa. Wait a sec.” Juliet stood. “You all just agreed that we’re in this together. And I’ll do my part. Looking in the factory for some answers makes sense.”

Bianca rose, as well. “Honey, please. None of us want to see you do anything to jeopardize your new career.”

A career Juliet didn’t want. She bit her tongue. This job was an opportunity to prove herself to them. But that didn’t mean she would become a pliable puppet. “I’ll do what I’m going to do.”

“We all just worry about you, Juliet. You’re our baby sister. We want you to make something of your life,” Rissa explained.

Juliet’s teeth clenched at the reminder of exactly how they all saw her—as some wayward child without any prospects. Granted, she hadn’t applied herself in high school and barely managed to squeak by. Her first few quarters of college weren’t much better.

But she’d decided it was time to make evident her capabilities. She’d applied herself to school after a few romps around Europe. Now she’d graduated with a degree and a job prospect that they and their father approved of. She’d show them.

Aunt Winnie stood. “Enough of this for now, girls. Let’s have a nice dinner and enjoy the rest of our time together before the twins and Bianca have to leave.”

Miranda rose and adjusted the skirt of the matronly dress she wore. “You’re right, Aunt Winnie. We’re being boorish with all this bickering. I want to hear about Rissa’s new play.”

Taking the cue, the girls filed out of the parlor. Juliet and Bianca were the last to leave the room.

“Juliet, promise me you won’t do anything that would get you in trouble with Father,” Bianca said.

“I’ll only get in trouble if I get caught,” Juliet quipped, reciting her childhood motto.

Growing up under the oppressive decorum of the Blanchard name, Juliet had tried to conform, but there were times when she had to let her true impulsive nature loose. Which only distressed her siblings. All but Delia, who was even more reckless in some ways.

At Bianca’s pained grimace, Juliet hugged her. “Don’t worry, sis. I’ll make you proud. Believe me, I don’t want to do anything that would give Father a reason to fire me. I know this opportunity will be good for me.”

“I think it says a lot that he’s giving you the marketing director position. Father was very pleased with your grades last term.”

For the first time in Juliet’s life, her father seemed proud of her. She’d worked hard to earn those As. And it was gratifying to know he’d noticed. “It stinks that he won’t be there to greet me on my first day at the company.”

Bianca sighed. “I know. I’m sorry for that.”

Juliet made a dismissing noise. “Not your fault.”

“But still…”

Juliet wished she could ease her sister’s grim expression. Dear Bianca took it upon herself to make sure Juliet was okay. Just as she had Juliet’s whole life.

Juliet gave her older sister another quick hug. “I love you, sis. And I thank God for you every day.”

“And I, you,” Bianca responded with a smile.

As they crossed the hall toward the dining room, Juliet linked her arm through Bianca’s. “So, tell me how you and Leo are doing.”

Bianca blushed. “Well. Very well.”

Happy for her sister, Juliet let her mind wander to a certain man whom she’d had a hard time forgetting. She wondered where Brandon De Witte was. And with whom.

She chided herself for such thoughts. Brandon didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. He was a pleasant memory that would eventually fade.

Juliet had more important concerns, such as her first day at the company looming ahead and finding some way to help in the search for their mother.