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The rest of the week passes without incident. The police interview us about the attack on the vineyard, but nothing is concluded. There are no more attacks, and Luann no longer sneaks out at night. Julian makes no more late-night phone calls, and I hear no more mention of Robert Cartwright.

The children begin their lessons, and I am not surprised to find them both very bright and even less surprised to find Nathan near genius. Indeed, I am poorly equipped to teach him, particularly in the hard sciences, where his intuition surpasses anything I have seen in any young person before him. I can only hope that my guidance in other subjects is appreciated.

As for myself, I slake my desire for scandal by immersing myself in the diaries. There is more than enough there to satisfy me. Beatrice’s premarital affair with Nathan Grant pales in comparison to her numerous marital affairs, and her amorousness doesn’t end when Vincent finally tires of her infidelity and leaves both her and the Bellamy family business. Her niece Caroline continues the family tradition of scandals by sleeping with her father’s next business partner, an affair which—according to the diaries—continues successfully for thirty years with no one but the principles ever aware of it.

Caroline’s sister-in-law, Elizabeth—who is also the late Parker Bellamy’s great-grandmother—does not cheat on Travis Bellamy, and her marriage to Jacob’s son remains unblemished by scandal. However, she meets Travis while married to another man and only leaves her husband for Travis after the poor man catches the two of them in bed.

Various other Bellamys make an appearance in the journals, and none of them can seem to avoid infidelity. It’s as though this family were cursed never to love who they ought and always to betray who they love.

I feel guilty for my interest in their scandals, but I can’t pull myself away. It’s like a soap opera. And in any case, it keeps me from meddling further than I must in the current scandal plaguing this family. So what harm can it cause?

Saturday is a big event at the Bellamy estate. The first vintage of the Bellamy Estate Pinot Noir by Continental Vineyards is bottled and ready for sale. Victoria is hosting a wine-tasting party. She's invited sommeliers, wine-tasters, critics, and other vintners from all over New England to attend. In all, over ninety people arrive, and the staff is run ragged, tending to everyone.

The guests of “honor” command the most of my attention. Robert Cartwright attends the event with his son Kevin. The two of them are granted a place near Victoria’s own table, an interesting move on Victoria’s part considering the two are rivals. Perhaps she prefers to keep her enemies close.

I am allowed a seat at Victoria’s table. The children are inside since they’re not of age to drink alcohol, but I’ve been allowed to join the event as a courtesy.

As soon as Robert arrives, Victoria approaches him. She wears a smile, but I detect a fierceness in her eyes and anticipate a fight. I am not proud of this, but I stay quiet in hopes she won’t notice me and I can overhear the argument.

Robert is a dashingly handsome man of sixty-one with a movie star smile and a build that is lean and fit in spite of his age. Were he not plagued with such a haughty attitude, I might find him very attractive indeed, but his arrogance ruins his looks.

“What an interesting quality you’ve layered into this Pinot, Victoria,” he says after tasting his first glass of the vintage. “It’s practically dripping with acid. Not what I would choose to highlight, but then, you’ve always had such a unique perspective when it comes to winemaking.”

Victoria, for her part, doesn’t budge an inch. She laughs and says to the smug Robert, “Well, you don’t become the most successful winemaking family in New England for generations running by sticking to tradition. Not that there’s anything wrong with tradition. There will always be a place for more easily accessible wines such as yours.”

The young Kevin—the spitting image of his father with the same bright blue eyes and trim physique—chuckles and hides that laughter badly. Victoria’s grin widens, and Robert flashes his son a glare before turning a smile back to Victoria. “There can be no doubt that you market your product better than anyone, Victoria. If there’s one thing you can do well, it’s make something appear enticing.”

Victoria keeps her own smile, but her eyes harden. “It’s quite easy to appear enticing when one’s target audience lacks willpower.”

Robert is prepared for this. “Why appeal to the strong when the weak are so easily overcome?”

Victoria is equally prepared. “A question the weak must struggle with every day.”

Julian arrives before Robert can retort, Nathan and Luann under his arms. I gasp in surprise. What are they doing here? Why would he bring them to a wine tasting? Was he simply trying to rebel against his mother’s wishes?

For their part, the children appear less than enthused at this forced meeting. Luann blushes deeper red than the wine, and Kevin looks at Luann with a longing so clear I find it hard to believe that Robert and Julian can’t see the attraction between the two of them. As for Nathan, he looks between the other two with an expression halfway between amusement and disgust.

It's the adults who react most forcefully, however. Robert looks coldly at Julian, making no pretense at politeness, not even the thin veneer he wears while sparring with Victoria. Julian curls his lip upward in a sneer and likewise makes no pretense. “I see mother has once more extended an olive branch to a snake.”

“Unlike some, your mother understands politeness.” Robert shifts his gaze to Victoria. “Even if her honey is laced with venom.”

Perhaps it is the presence of the children that causes Victoria to have a stronger reaction to this than his earlier comments, but she reddens and says, “The children don’t need to be a part of your foolishness. Either of you. If you insist on having an argument, do it outside of my house.”

Nathan and Kevin both chuckle at this, then shoot each other the look of camaraderie children often share when they catch their elders behaving like fools. Luann’s eyes are fixed firmly on the floor.

I snap out of my funk and get to my feet. I clear my throat, and the three adults flinch and turn to me. “Perhaps I should take the children inside.”

Julian reddens. Clearly, he didn't realize I was listening in. "Yes. That's probably best. Nathan, Luann, go with Mary. Robert, would you like to send Kevin with them? He can't participate in a wine tasting, and I'm more than happy to keep him occupied while you find some vapid excuse or another to insult your betters."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Kevin does no such thing, and he and Luann share a look that tells me both of them have spent much of their private time complaining about their fathers’ pettiness.

A pettiness Robert is all too happy to contribute to. “I need no excuse to point out the inferior quality of your product, Julian. Perhaps instead of reacting negatively to criticism, you might accept that others occasionally know better than you. It might prevent you from finishing three places behind me in Wine magazine's annual vineyard rankings."

Kevin stands. “You know what, I think I will go inside with Luann.” As an afterthought, he adds, “And Nathan. Dad, Mr. Bellamy, enjoy your argument. If you end up slap fighting, take a video so I can laugh at it later.”

Robert snaps to his son in horror. “Kevin! That is not appropriate! Apologize to Mr. Bellamy!”

Kevin scoffs. “Okay. Mr. Bellamy, I’m sorry. Dad, I’m not sorry.”

Robert gets to his feet so abruptly that his knees slam into the table, and he nearly knocks over the wine glasses. He grabs Kevin hard enough to make the boy wince. "I see we're not truly welcome here," he says coldly. "Victoria, I would think you'd made enough of a joke of my family. It seems I was wrong."

“You’re a joke all on your own, Robert,” Julian retorts. “You don’t need my mother’s help.”

I take Nathan and Luann inside before they can witness any more of this. They are all too eager to follow me.

When we’re inside, I turn to the children and say, “I’m not in the habit of apologizing for my employers, nor am I in the habit of speaking ill of one’s parents and grandparents. However, I am heartily sorry for what you two just experienced. It was inappropriate and uncalled for. Those three shouldn’t have made you witness to whatever petty argument they’re having.”

I really shouldn’t be this blunt, but I’m infuriated. Does no one think of the children? Does no one think of the damage that can be done by treating them like furniture? They should be grateful that Nathan is well-behaved and Luann is only meeting the neighbor boy at night. If this is typical behavior from Robert, Julian and Victoria, then it’s a wonder they haven’t turned out worse.

The children both laugh. I’m surprised by the reaction, but I suppose it’s encouraging that they can let what happened outside roll off of their backs. “New in town, Mary?” Nathan jokes.

Luann affects a Southern drawl. “Why lawd, Miss Mary. The feud between the Cartwrights and the Bellamys has been going on since the dawn of time.” She switches to a normal tone and says, “Seriously, though, it’s no big deal. All they do is trade playground insults. Nathan and I joke all the time that we should give each of them boxing gloves and stick them in a ring just to watch them stutter and huff and shuffle around without throwing a single punch.”

Nathan laughs at that as well, but his face grows more serious a moment later. “Honestly, I wish sometimes that they would just fight. Maybe they’d get over it. Whatever it is.”

“Whatever it is, it has nothing to do with you two or with Kevin. Pay them no mind. They’re grown men, and they can either choose to act like it or suffer the consequences of their own poor behavior. Now, shall we play a board game together? I’ve had my fill of movies.”

The children giggle. “A board game?” Luann says. “Come on, Mary. You’re not that old.”

“Gee. Thank you, Luann,” I reply drily.

Instead of a board game, the children coax me into playing video games with them in their room. I perform about as well as I would expect a fifty-three-year-old woman to perform and beg off after one round. I watch the children play and resign myself to the fact that the children of today prefer electronic stimulation to conversation. At least they’re having fun.

I try to focus on that, but in the back of my mind, my worries for this family have returned. After the argument I’ve just witnessed, the idea of Robert sabotaging Victoria’s vineyard or Julian’s winery isn’t so far-fetched anymore.

And with things so heated between the families, how much further will they take this feud? I have been fortunate not to encounter a murder here as I have at so many other positions. But perhaps my luck—and theirs—is running out.