Juliet paused at the door leading into the house. Once she walked in through that door, there would be no going back. She would be fully committed to her promise to start working at Blanchard Fabrics and being embroiled in whatever new drama unfolded concerning their mother.
And their father.
TWO
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