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 gasped. Nina’s portrait was chilling. If not for the fact that her eyes were open, the woman in the painting might have been a cadaver on a slab. She was completely nude, reclining at an odd angle on a bed, her pale-white skin dappled with green and gray shadows. Her limbs were twisted, her legs splayed as if in spasm. Her head tilted strangely backward, exposing her vulnerable throat. The overall effect was ghoulish, with the only sign of life her crimson hair, but even that looked daubed with blood.
“Exquisite, isn’t she? Edward Levitt commissioned that painting in honor of Nina’s twenty-fifth birthday. It’s considered a masterpiece of Lucian Freud’s late period. There used to be a Warhol of Edward himself, facing her across the room. After Mrs. Levitt remarried, she moved it down to the library. She didn’t like her first husband watching her in bed with her second, I guess.”
As Juliet chuckled, I blanched, realizing that Nina would be watching me tonight as I slept. I wished I could ask Juliet to move the painting, but that felt like overstepping. What right did I have to make a change like that? This house didn’t belong to me. I’d have to wait for Connor.
“I’m afraid we haven’t had time to clear out Mrs. Levitt’s dressing room. We’ll get started first thing tomorrow. It’s a complicated process, but we’ll move as quickly as possible. When are your things arriving?”
“I don’t own a lot of things. Just what’s in my suitcase, and a couple of boxes that my friend will ship to me.”
“Oh,” Juliet said, looking taken aback. “Well, I suppose that gives us more time. It’s quite a job. I’ll show you.”
We stepped into another enormous room, lined with shelves and hanging poles displaying an incredible array of clothes. There was a beautiful dressing table with a professionally lit mirror, and across from it, a three-tiered full-length mirror with a pedestal to stand on, like you’d see in a tailor’s shop. There was elaborate floral wallpaper, a marble-topped packing dresser with crystal knobs, glittering sconces, and a crystal chandelier. The clothes were organized by color as well as category. There was an entire section of furs, another of woolen coats, one that held only black clothes, another only white. The most flamboyant section displayed evening gowns in every color of the rainbow, glittering with sequins and beads, embellished with feathers. Racks and racks of shoes and bags and hats, a safe in the wall that must contain precious jewels. It went on and on.
“Wow,” I said.
“Everything was inventoried not long after her death,” Juliet said. “We’re in talks with a couple of auction houses. Rest assured, it’s all being looked after properly. There’s so much here. Hermès and Chanel bags. Vintage evening wear. Furs. The value is significant, and it belongs to the estate.”
“Oh, of course—I wouldn’t—I don’t think any of it is mine,” I said.
Juliet gave me a strange look, and I saw that I’d misunderstood her, and said something foolish, though I didn’t know exactly what. The prospect of spending days among strangers in this enormous, glamorous yet gloomy house, uncertain of how to behave, having to watch my every word, made me feel exhausted suddenly.
A knock sounded on the door, and Dennis wheeled in my suitcase.
“Is there anything else we can do for you, Mrs. Ford?” Juliet asked.
“No, I’m fine.”
“If you need anything, I have a room on the third floor, next to the housekeeper. I’ll be staying there for the next several days to help you settle in. And Dennis lives over the garage.”
I nodded. “Thanks, but I’m used to fending for myself. I won’t be any bother.”
“No bother, ma’am,” Dennis said. “That’s our job.”
“Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I’m very tired. Good night.”
I rushed them out, closing the door behind them and collapsing against it, relieved to be alone. But that feeling lasted only a moment. I felt a prickling on the back of my neck and turned to see Nina staring at me from the wall, her grayish skin and haunted eyes redolent of the grave. I was an interloper here, she seemed to say, and shouldn’t get too comfortable.
23
I got in bed and turned out the light. The bed itself was more luxurious than any I’d been in before—a fluffy duvet, acres of pillows, a feather topper that made the mattress soft and welcoming. But I couldn’t relax. I lay in the dark with my eyes wide open, alert for any sound that stood out against the drone of wind and surf outside, exhausted yet utterly awake. I couldn’t get over the fact that Nina had slept in this bed. Touched these sheets. Made love with Connor here. Despite the heavy duvet, I felt a chill in my bones that I couldn’t shake.
Realizing that I wouldn’t sleep tonight, I flipped the light back on and dialed Connor’s phone. The call went to straight to voicemail.
“Hi, babe, it’s me,” I said. “Um, Juliet put me in the master. She said that’s what you wanted. I don’t mean to be squeamish, but it’s a little freaky, sleeping in Nina’s old room. I’m wondering, maybe if you could call her and ask her to move me somewhere else? Or, anyway just call. I miss you so much.”
Hours passed. I left the lights on and slept only intermittently. It was one-thirty when he finally called back.
“I’m so glad to hear your voice,” I said, huddled under the covers, my back to Nina’s portrait. “It’s strange being here without you.”
“You said Juliet put you in the master?”
“Yes. She said that’s what you asked for.”
“I didn’t ask her. Gloria should be handling everything.”
“Gloria was asleep by the time I got here.”
He made an annoyed sound.
“Don’t blame her. It was pretty late,” I said, worried that I’d gotten Gloria in trouble with Connor.
The housekeeper would hate me now, and we hadn’t even met. There was nothing I had resented more in my life as a server than another server ratting me out to management.
“It’s Juliet who’s the problem,” he said. “She was Nina’s personal assistant. I don’t know what she thinks she’s doing, hanging around you. You didn’t encourage her, did you?”
“Encourage? I mean, I don’t know. I’m really not used to having staff. It would be easier to navigate this stuff if you were here.”
“You’re going to have to fly on your own for a little bit, Tabby cat. I’m afraid I have to go to Riyadh.”
“Where’s that?”
“Saudi Arabia.”
“Seriously? Connor, no—”
“Baby, don’t make it harder, okay? You know I want to be with you. But this is important. I have to finesse things with Hank. I told him we got married, by the way.”
“How did he take it?”
“Better than I expected. He’s smart enough to re
alize I have the best claim to the estate, which includes Nina’s voting shares. As long as I play ball on the direction of the company, he has no interest in antagonizing me, or in swapping me out for that whackjob sister. Better the devil you know, right?”
“Does he know about the lawsuit?”
“Everybody knows. It’s been all over the news. He offered to hook me up with his team of lawyers. He says they’re real killers. We need to get aggressive. Fight back. Like, how do we even know this nutjob Is Nina’s sister? Hank knew Nina for thirty years, and never met her. We have to discredit her claim any way we can.”
“Could that really work?”
“It’s worth a try. We’re not going down without a fight. You keep a low profile, like I said. Don’t leave Windswept unless you have to. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Hey, I’ve been missing you all day like crazy. Do you miss me?”
“Mmm, so much.”
As we sweet-talked, one thing led to another, and before I knew it, we were having phone sex. It made me feel close to him across the miles, and by the time we hung up, I wasn’t as afraid. I’d forgotten to ask him about changing rooms. But I didn’t feel the need to quite so urgently anymore. That portrait was only paint on canvas. Connor loved me. I lived here now, and Nina was gone.
* * *
For the rest of that week, I did my best to settle into Windswept on my own. The weather was chilly and bright, and I took long walks on the beach every day. Nobody stopped me. Nobody cared where I went. In my new life, I had no responsibilities, no shifts to miss, no hours that I needed to log. And I was grateful. My life had been a terrible grind, almost unbearable through the first trimester. My energy returned now that the morning sickness was gone, and I walked for miles, feeling at home in my body for the first time in months, mesmerized by the ocean. The waves bubbled and churned on the cold sand, every color of blue and green and gray and silver. Gulls reeled overhead. Geese were beginning to fly south. There were plovers on the beach, and crabs, different kinds of seaweed, shells. The wind smelled fresh and briny. When I came back indoors, my nose would run in the warmth, and I’d make my way to the library, with its elegant walnut paneling and plushly upholstered sofas and chairs. I’d mock-salute the Warhol of Edward Levitt, fall into a chair, press a buzzer, and Gloria would come and bring me tea.
Gloria was in her fifties, with hair of such jet-black that it must be dyed, and brown eyes that always looked tired and sad. The soft, jowly roundness of her face reminded me of Grandma Jean. She moved about quietly in her sensible shoes and starched uniform, always calm, never seeming to mind my questions or requests. She was there with a hot drink when I needed one, but when I said I preferred to cook for myself, she showed me the kitchen, and left me to it. When my boxes arrived from New Hampshire, she laid out my jeans and sweaters in the small corner of Nina’s dressing room that had been cleared for my use by Juliet. My old clothes looked incongruous among the furs and ball gowns, but Gloria treated them respectfully, the same way she did me. I sometimes got the sense that she felt sorry for me—the new bride knocking about alone in this giant house, her husband gone off to some exotic land—but always, Gloria accepted me without judgment.
Toward the end of that first week, Dennis drove me into the city. I asked him to drop me off at Bergdorf’s, a place that Juliet said Nina had liked to shop. I wasn’t planning on buying anything. It was a ruse, a cover, for the visit to the obstetrician whose name Connor had gotten for me.
Dr. Jennifer Klein had a kind face, graying dark hair, a degree from the Yale School of Medicine, and an office on Park Avenue decorated in soothing pastels. Lying on the examination table as she did the ultrasound, I wished so much that Connor was with me that there was a catch in my voice when I spoke.
She patted my arm.
“Cry if you want to. It’s emotional, the first time you see the baby,” the doctor said.
And I did—just a few tears as I stared at the screen. The doctor spread cold gel on my stomach, moving the wand around to get images of the baby from various angles.
“Do you want to know the sex?” she asked.
I had to choose between Connor missing the big moment or waiting another month to find out.
“Yes.”
She manipulated the wand to get a view of the space between the legs.
“Congratulations, it’s a girl.”
My daughter was perfect. Tiny nose and lips, a delicately round head, little hands balled into fists.
“Amazing,” I whispered reverently.
As I watched, she kicked, and for the first time, I actually felt it—like the rustle of butterfly wings inside me. And with that, the baby was a person to me—someone I knew, loved dearly, and had a sacred obligation to protect. I decided on the spot to name her Margaret, which had been my mother’s name. My mother was Peggy. My daughter would be Meg, a name I’d adored ever since reading Little Women when I was twelve.
Dr. Klein texted me the sonogram video, which I forwarded to Connor, with a text that just said, our daughter. I wanted to save the name and tell him on the phone. I hoped he’d love it as much as I did.
I was in the backseat of the Mercedes on the way back to Windswept when he called.
“Hey, babe,” I said, my smile a mile wide.
His voice was cold. “Tabby, that was a mistake, sending me the video. You have to be more careful. How many times do I have to tell you that nobody can know about the baby.”
Shocked, I glanced up to make sure Dennis wasn’t listening. The glass barrier was up. His reflection in the rearview mirror was neutral, staring at the road.
“But—I only sent it to you. I didn’t—”
“You have to assume your phone is not secure. Do you understand? This woman could’ve hired someone to bug us.”
“That’s so paranoid. Besides, if you really believe it, why are you talking about this over the phone?”
“Do I think the phones are actually bugged? It’s not impossible. People do crazy things for this much money. The knives are out for us, Tabby. You don’t understand the world you live in now. Delete the video from your phone, okay? I deleted it from mine. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Wait!… Hello? Connor?”
The call had dropped. He’d deleted the video of our baby? How could he? What would it even achieve? My pregnancy was beginning to show. I wouldn’t be able to hide it for much longer.
As it turned out, I couldn’t even hide it for the rest of that day.
That afternoon, I went out for a walk on the beach without checking the weather forecast. Within a few minutes, the skies opened, sending me scurrying back to Windswept, soaking wet. I went up to the master suite to change, and was shocked to walk in on Juliet, standing in my bathroom. She was staring at the prenatal vitamins I’d left sitting out on the vanity so I wouldn’t forget to take them.
“What are you doing?” I said.
She whirled, startled. She hadn’t heard me come in.
“You’re pregnant?”
Her tone made it sound like an accusation.
“That’s none of your business. Why are you in my bathroom?”
I watched the emotions play across her face—shock and anger, followed by the guilty look of someone who’d been caught out. And then, panic.
“Ma’am, I apologize. I was cleaning out Mrs. Levitt’s things, and I realized, I hadn’t checked the medicine cabinet. I thought this might be hers—lying around. I—I’m so sorry if offended you. I had no intention of invading your privacy—”
“It’s okay. Relax.”
“Please don’t tell Mr. Ford I was in here.”
“He doesn’t care.”
“He does. You won’t tell him? I think he wants to fire me.”
“Juliet, no. That’s not true. You’ve been nothing but helpful.”
“Seriously. If you tell him, he’ll ask me to leave.”
“I won’t let that happen. I’ve worked for a living
my whole life. Nobody is getting fired on my watch. Rest easy, okay? You’re keeping your job.”
The gratitude in her eyes moved me. I knew how it felt to think you might get fired. The uncertainty, the feeling of unfairness. Juliet was probably around the same age as me. A month ago, I would have envied her position. I would’ve thought her job was cool and hoped we could be friends. And now she needed to be afraid of me. That was a strange feeling, and an uncomfortable one.
“Thank you, Mrs. Ford. And if it’s not too intrusive of me to say, what wonderful news. You must be very happy.”
She smiled brightly, and I wondered if I’d imagined that flash of anger a moment ago.
“It wasn’t planned. We would’ve preferred to wait. But yes, thank you, I am happy.”
“And Mr. Ford? Is he happy, too?”
“Thrilled. He always wanted children. Even so, I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone just yet. It’s still early.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said smoothly. “It’s for the proud parents to announce when they’re ready. Now, I have some paperwork for the auction to take care of, so I’ll get out of your hair.”
After she left, I changed into sweatpants and a cozy sweater and sat on the window seat, watching the storm rake the ocean. I felt like we’d connected. But now that the moment had passed, I was gripped with anxiety that she’d found out my secret. Not just any secret. A dangerous one, life or death. Would she keep quiet? I hoped she saw me as an ally, even someone who might become a friend. But her loyalty to Nina might make her resent me. The new wife, the interloper, whose prescription bottle told a tale of infidelity predating Nina’s death. Was Juliet trustworthy? I couldn’t tell. Connor had gotten one thing right on the phone earlier. I didn’t understand the world I lived in now.
The Wife Who Knew Too Much Page 15
