Page 7

Much to Nathan's disappointment, we don't see the horror movie he wanted to watch. I have experienced enough horror that I'm not frightened by those films, but gore and violence turns my stomach even if it doesn't chill my bones. We end up watching an action film that is far less gory, even if it's still rather violent.

Nathan enjoys himself, but Luann is preoccupied. She spends most of the movie texting, keeping her screen dark and hiding it from view. I’m sure she’s texting her boyfriend, but I’ve involved myself in her personal life enough for one day. As long as she isn’t sneaking off alone at night, I don’t need to be involved any further.

Still, I fear what will happen when the truth comes out. And it will come out. Secrets like these keep poorly even when handled well. At some point, the parents of these two lovebirds will catch wind of the relationship. What happens then could be messy for all concerned.

When we return home, Julian and Victoria aren’t there. A note left on the refrigerator tells me that they’ve left for their offices to ensure that security for their commercial vineyard is prepared for any threat that might come their way tonight.

The note also informs me that while I was out, their security company visited and upgraded their entire system so that any further incursions onto the property will trigger an automatic call to the police as well as set of lights and sirens to alert everyone inside. I tell this to the children. Nathan replies with the disinterest most children would show in such news. Luann responds by deflating slightly and swearing under her breath. I gather that she was planning on ignoring my warning to stay home and now realizes that her late-night escapades will have to end regardless.

I leave the children to in their rooms. I don’t love allowing children to spend all day on their cell phones, but I feel a restless pull to the diaries in the library. There’s no logical reason for this, at least none that I can articulate. But in past mysteries, I've felt such hunches, and following them has always led me closer to the answer. So it isn't just idle curiosity. So I tell myself, anyway.

I wait until the children are engaged into the story then excuse myself and head to the library. The safe is still ajar, as I left it the other night. I imagine that Julian’s been too preoccupied to visit the library lately.

I select a different diary this time. Like the first one, it’s old and its pages are faded, but its not so old as the first. I turn to a random page and find the following entry.

New Century’s Day, 1/1/1900.

Well, here it is. A new day. A new month. A new year. A new century.

Same old Beatrice Bellamy. I suppose it was silly of me to expect I would wake a princess today and have the freedom to give my hand to whomever I choose. I guess I hoped that maybe the dream of a child might overcome the dreariness of the woman. Father says I’m a woman now, but really, who decides that someone is grown just because they’ve turned eighteen? I feel no different than I did when I was seventeen and precious little than I did when I was sixteen. But I’m a woman now? I guess so. Mother was eighteen when she was wed and only twenty when she gave birth to me.

I am a woman, but I don't have a choice in who I love. Such bitter irony! I must love Vincent Manderley because he is of "good breeding" and stands to inherit his father's business. I don't know what his business has to do with anything. Jacob will inherit Grandfather's business one day, and he'll see to it that I'm cared for. And it's not as if Nathan is poor. He's only not wealthy. Must everyone be wealthy? We're wealthy, but Grandmother is sad and father is angry all the time.

And I love Nathan. He’s not foppish and arrogant like Vincent. He’s strong and passionate and so handsome! When I feel his arms around me, it’s like lightning striking me everywhere! When Vincent kissed my hand the other day, it was as though a fish had pressed cold, wet lips to my skin. Ugh!

I won’t settle for a fish, no matter how much money he has. Give me a tall man with the strength of a bull and passion to match!

The rest of the entry consists of several paragraphs extolling the Nathan’s virility and emphasizing how poorly Vincent compares. It’s fairly immature stuff, but the name stands out to me. I wonder if the Nathan in my care now owes his name to a great=great-great-grandfather Nathan? Perhaps things end well for Beatrice Bellamy and her paramour.

I flip ahead and land on an entry dated for December 2, 1903.

Dearest Diary,

I look at myself in the mirror today and try to see the bright, happy girl who once stared back at me, but she is gone. In her place is a woman, a creature far sadder and more hopeless. Can it be that at twenty-two, the best years of my life are already behind me?

I feel horrible for thinking this. I have a good life. I have all the money I could ever hope for, and all of the comfort that provides. I have married the man my parents wished for me to marry, and they have shown their approval by ensuring that my material needs will be met for the rest of my life.

And Vincent is not so terrible a man as I once feared. He is a competent businessman and humble enough to realize that our future is best secured by selling his enterprise to my father. He is foppish, but he is not as self-absorbed as I once believed. He is gentle with me and demands little of what a husband is entitled to.

And he loves Walter in spite of everything. When he smiles at him, I see no disgust or hatred. When he plays with him, I see real affection. He talks often and at length of his hopes for Walter’s future and his desire that his son grow up with pride and strength.

His son. Even though I can see in his eyes that he knows the truth, he still considers Walter his son. He is a good man, and I am a wretch.

And that is why I am miserable. I am a wretch. I have betrayed a man who is good to me. It’s not his fault I loved another. It’s not his fault that I chose to conceal my love and pretend to a love I didn’t feel that I might please my parents. Vincent is a good man. He could have found a woman who loved him, one who would respond to his touch with genuine desire and not hidden disgust. I have denied him that chance.

And I see it in his face when he looks at me and sometimes even when he looks at Walter. He sees those blue eyes and knows they could not come from my gray eyes or his brown ones. He sees that jet black hair and knows that our blonde could not have produced that. He looks at me and knows that I gave to Nathan Grant more than I can ever give to him. And he does not hate me for it. He is a good man, and I am a wretch.

But I will live with my choice. I will love my son, and I will raise him as the son of Vincent Manderley. It is the right thing to do. I will bury my misery and live privately with the guilt that consumes me, as I deserve.

With a heavy heart and a weary soul,

Beatrice Manderley.

I close the diary and stare at the wall for a while, digesting what I’ve read. The emotions described here are so raw, so vivid! I could almost imagine that I have read an entire history of this poor woman and the trials she faced.

Perhaps I find this so fascinating because I see a parallel between poor Beatrice and Luann. Luann is not being asked to accept the hand of some prearranged suitor, but she is forced to hide her true feelings. Even without the presence of a competing lover, couplings between two individuals whose families are at odds with one another rarely end well. Few result in such violent tragedy as Romeo and Juliet, but all too many end as Beatrice and Nathan did.

There is nothing here to suggest that Nathan Bellamy’s name is related in any way to Nathan Grant’s name, and anyway, the Manderleys would have a different last name, but perhaps a nephew or niece was named in his honor. Though that would mean that someone else knew of Beatrice’s illicit affair or deduced it. That individual would also have had to approve of her affair.

But I’ve been here a while. If I wish to learn more of the adventures of Beatrice Manderley and the Bellamy family into which she was born, I will have to revisit these diaries another time.

Still, I can’t help but note that scandal has continued to follow this family. Aside from Luann and Kevin, there is this rivalry between their fathers. And then there was the odd way Victoria reacted to Julian’s joke that she and Robert Cartwright were in love with each other. Could it be that Victoria, like Beatrice, harbored a secret affair?

It seems absurd. It’s not like infidelity is a trait that can be inherited. Still, the coincidence is striking. Both Marianne and Beatrice bore a child that didn’t belong to their husbands. Could it be that Victoria might have done the same?

I scoff and quickly put the notebook away. I’m letting my imagination run away with itself. To think that I would judge that poor woman based on the private thoughts of her husband’s ancestors long dead.

I return to the children and try to put those past scandals out of my mind. This current scandal is no doubt some business rivalry that has unfortunately spilled over into their private lives. Luann and Kevin are young, and even in the best of cases, first loves are rarely last loves. I will focus on caring for the twins and keeping them safe. I should treat those diaries as nothing more than entertainment.

Besides, the real danger isn’t who is conducting what affair with whom. Someone invaded this property and destroyed some of Victoria’s choice vines. The damage done is minimal in a financial sense, but the symbolism of the attack is sobering. Was the attack simply a warning?

0r was the fire a warning and this is a sign that worse is on the horizon?