to open my door for me.
“Luggage coming right up, ma’am,” he said.
“You can call me Tabitha,” I said, but he didn’t reply, and I could tell he would never take me up on that.
Juliet was beside me. “I’m sure you’re tired after your journey. I’ll take you to your room. Follow me, please.”
I hurried up the sweeping staircase after her. By the time we reached the top, I was out of breath. I was beginning to gain weight, though not so much that people who didn’t know me would notice I was pregnant. The morning sickness had abated, but other symptoms—fatigue, bloating—had set in. I would have to make an effort to seem normal.
We stood in a gallery that overlooked the magnificent entry foyer. Hallways branched off to the left and right, into separate wings of the house. The gallery was hung with abstract paintings that I should probably recognize. In their strangeness, they screamed “important art.” Eager to change the subject, I pointed to one that looked like a skeleton surrounded by squiggly lines.
“Interesting painting. Is that—?”
“Basquiat, yes,” Juliet said, nodding.
I was about to say Picasso. I’d never heard of Basquiat. Whoever he was, he’d painted something that looked like the Grim Reaper.
“The art in this house is priceless,” she said. “Warhols, Lichtensteins, Harings. There’s an amazing Lucian Freud portrait of Mrs. Levitt in the master suite. Come, this way.”
I would rather not see a portrait of Connor’s dead wife. But that seemed like an inappropriate thing to confess to Juliet. I followed her down a long, dark hallway. The entire east wing of the house was shuttered, the doors to the rooms closed and blank.
“This section of the house hasn’t been used much since Mrs. Levitt died,” Juliet said, following my gaze. “Mr. Ford preferred to stay in the guest wing, but now that he’s remarried, of course he’d want to use the master.”
Did that mean I’d be sleeping in Nina’s bed? The idea made me cringe.
“Did he say that? Because I’d be happy to stay in the guest wing if that’s easier for you,” I said.
“Mr. Ford texted this afternoon to let us know you were coming, and he asked us to make up the master, yes. To be honest, that’s the first we heard of your marriage. It was quite sudden, wasn’t it?”
Until I’d arrived here tonight, it hadn’t occurred to me that I’d be living among people who’d known Nina well, worked for her, and presumably cared about her. The staff hadn’t had time to adjust to the idea of Connor remarrying. To me, he was mine. But in the eyes of everyone at Windswept, he belonged to Nina. They all must see it that way. Juliet must. I had a terrible sense of unease, realizing that the face she showed me—a pleasant, helpful face—probably didn’t represent her true feelings. My natural inclination was to be friendly, make conversation, answer any question I was asked. But I had to be careful. As much as I wanted to get to know Juliet, she might not be well-disposed toward me. I shouldn’t discuss my marriage with her until I knew if I could trust her. I had to be disciplined about everything I said.
I nodded and remained silent.
“In any case, we didn’t have a lot of time to get ready,” Juliet said. “The housekeeper asked me to convey her apologies that things aren’t in better order.”
“I’m sure it’s wonderful. Please, tell her not to worry about me.”
“You can tell her yourself. You’ll meet her in the morning. She lives in the staff quarters on the third floor. It just got kind of late for her. Gloria’s older. She’s been here forever. Set in her ways, but she’s a fixture.”
At the end of the hall, Juliet stopped at a set of heavy, ornate double doors, unlike anything I’d ever seen. Carved with images of angels and devils, they looked like the gates to hell.
“Florentine. Sixteenth century,” she said, mistaking my horrified glance for awe.
As we stepped into the bedroom, a smell of dust and damp rose up. Juliet flicked on the lights. The room was vast, with high ceilings, an elaborate canopy bed, and a glittering chandelier. She moved over to the windows and threw open the drapes.
“I know it’s dark out now, but the view’s so great. I just love this room.”
Powerful surf crashed on the sand below, reminding me of the last time I’d been here. I turned back in to the room, looked up, and