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The event ends shortly after dark. I admonish the children to remain in Nathan’s room for the time being. I don’t say aloud that it’s to avoid exposing them to any more pettiness from Julian and Victoria, but they catch on.

“Trust me,” Luann says, “we don’t want to listen to the two of them bitch about the Cartwrights either.”

“That’s not appropriate language for a young lady.” Nathan opens his mouth, and I quickly add, “Or a young man. Just stay in here and don’t worry too much about what the adults do.”

“Easy for you to say,” Nathan retorts. “They just pay you. You don’t have to listen to Dad moan about it all the time.”

“I know. I’m truly sorry that the two of you have to deal with it. I’ll talk to Victoria and Julian and impress upon them the importance of leaving you two out of their business.”

“Good luck with that,” Luann says morosely. “In case you couldn’t tell, minding their own business isn’t something either of them are very good at.”

If I were to diagnose the problem with the Bellamys, it would be that they’re too obsessed with their own affairs, but I glean that Luann is referring to the need to hide her relationship with Kevin. I can’t offer much encouragement there, so I leave them and head downstairs to help the rest of the staff clean up.

The servants don’t seem fazed at all by their employers’ behavior. I mention the argument to Grant, and he only chuckles. “Yes, the Bellamys and the Cartwrights have been at each other’s throats ever since Parker’s father purchased Granger Vineyards in nineteen-sixty-nine. It’s become something of a legend here on the island.”

“So they’ve been rivals for over half a century now.”

“Looks that way. From my perspective, there’s no reason for them to be rivals. They’re both successful and wealthy. I’ve never understood why people with everything are so unhappy.”

“It’s the curse of human nature,” I opine. “We always want more. We always believe that once we get what we want, we’ll be happy, but we only end up wanting even more. It’s sad, really.”

Grant raises an eyebrow. “That’s remarkably wise of you, Mary.”

I feel a touch of guilt at the blush that comes to my cheeks, but what Sean doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and in any case, I don’t intend to act on my attraction the way seemingly every Bellamy woman since the Civil War has done.

We finish cleaning an hour after nightfall. Grant and the others thank me for my assistance and retire to bed. I am just as exhausted as they are. Physical labor has never been a strong suit of mine.

I head inside, intending to shower and turn in early. As soon as I walk through the door, though, I hear an argument from the great room. Nathan is arguing with Julian.

I remain in the foyer and listen.

“So I can be miserable like you?”

That is Nathan. His father replies somewhat weakly. “I’m not miserable because of my job, I’m miserable because… I mean, I’m not miserable. I’m frustrated with Robert Cartwright over things that are a private matter between us.”

“Yeah, I could tell. You acted like a brat at the wine tasting.”

“Don’t talk to me like…” Julian pauses for breath, then says in a tightly controlled voice. “I apologize. I know that my behavior wasn’t ideal, but—”

“Not ideal? You two were like children. Don’t act like you weren’t.”

“This has nothing to do with Robert Cartwright! This is about you and your future.”

“Yeah. My future. Not yours.”

“Don’t be na?ve, son. Winemaking has been a part of our family for generations.”

“I’m happy for it,” Nathan quips.

“So what then? You’ll sit in a lab? Write papers on how a particular weak acid is better at breaking down organic materials than this other weak acid?”

“I’m leaning toward astronomy, actually, but A for effort,” Nathan retorts. “For a moment, it was almost like you actually gave a crap about me.”

“It’s because I care about you that I want you to have a career.”

“I don’t want to run the damned winery!”

“Watch your language!”

“Oh, whatever. It’s not like you ever cared about me. It’s always ‘the family this, the family that.’ I’m your family, Dad! Me and Luann! And guess what? We’re both miserable .”

I hear footsteps as he storms up the stairs. I wait for Julian’s footsteps to follow, but instead, I hear him approaching the foyer. I gasp and look for a way to escape, but the foyer leads only to the great room, so I stand there lamely when Julian walks inside. He sees me and smiles tightly. “You must think me a very poor father.”

“Not at all,” I say, my compassion overcoming my embarrassment. “You carry a lot of weight on your shoulders. It’s very difficult to raise two children as a single father while also managing a major business and dealing with aggressive rivals.”

Julian chuckles. “I don’t know if Robert’s aggressive. He barks loud, but he has yet to bite. Not that I’ve bitten much. As for the kids…” His smile fades. “I just want them to have pride in what we’ve built. I know the modern world looks down on old money. Everyone assumes we’re just aristocratic pricks, but we built something. Henry Bellamy purchased this property in eighteen-fifty-eight and turned it into a successful vineyard, one of the first truly successful vineyards in Massachusetts. My great-great-grandfather expanded the business until we distributed wine across the country, and my Dad turned us into one of the premier winemakers in the United States. And not to toot my own horn, but we’ve gained international attention since I took the company eleven years ago.”

He looked around, desperation turning his pride fierce. “This means something, damn it. This matters . I just wish Nathan could understand that.” He sighs. “But he doesn’t want anything to do with the family business. He’s fine just letting it get sold. Never mind that all of his wealth comes from this company. Never mind that this is something we’ve maintained for generations.”

He meets my eyes. “I’m guessing you’d probably tell me to let him pursue his own dreams. And I wish I could do that, but…” He lifts his hands and lets them drop. “What happens to all of this? What happens to the Bellamy name.” He finishes with an almost pleading. “Damn it, this matters .”

“You could leave the business to Luann,” I suggest helpfully.

He chuckles bitterly. “She has no more interest than he does. Besides, if she ever did marry, her last name would change, and it would be someone else’s family business. Maybe I’m an asshole, but I want someone with my own last name to run this business. I want that legacy to continue.”

He sighs and smiles. "But it's nothing you need to worry about. You're doing exactly what you should do, intervening when Mom and I are acting like idiots. Thank you for caring for them. Hell, maybe it'll be better for this all to fall apart. With no legacy comes no stress." He shakes his head. "I'm going to bed. Maybe I'll get lucky, and dream of a world where Robert Cartwright doesn't exist, and my son gives a damn about the family name.”

He heads upstairs, leaving me wondering what future this family can have when their father is so unstable. Those poor children.

Still, I’m not without sympathy for Julian. The world is changing, and not all of the changes are comfortable for those of us raised to believe that families matter more than individuals. Even when we know that it’s wrong of us to cling to those priorities, that knowing is often not enough to overcome the truths ingrained in us from our childhood. I know that better than most.

I head upstairs to check on Nathan, but there’s no answer to my knock. I decide he’s either asleep or he needs some time to myself and return to the library. The drama the current generations of this family is facing is stressful enough that escaping to the drama of the past is almost an escape.

I pull a diary from the safe and begin to read. The first entry here is dated April sixteenth, nineteen-eighty.

Dear Diary,

I don’t know what to do.

As I write this, I am sitting naked in bed, moments removed from the most intense bout of sex Parker and I have ever enjoyed.

I blush when I read this. I can’t pretend I haven’t enjoyed the salacious details these diaries contain, but I think I’ve finally crossed a line. I’m not interested in hearing this woman—whoever she is—share detailed opinions on her husband’s prowess in bed.

I close the diary and start to put it back when the name finally hits me. Parker. Victoria’s husband, Parker.

With a gasp, I snatch the journal back and look at the name on the bottom of the entry. Sure enough, it’s Victoria’s diary I’m reading.

I hold the diary for a long while, forcing myself to read Victoria’s name over and over. These are not the thoughts of a dead woman I’m reading but the thoughts of my own employer. I should put this away. I should stop reading now. I shouldn’t involve myself in their family business anymore. It was a mistake to ever open this.

But as I’ve mentioned before, I am a slave to my nature. As I put the diary away a second time, I feel another one of those pulls, another hunch like those that have proven so useful to me in the past. I can’t articulate why, but I am certain that this diary contains the answers to every question surrounding this family.

I take the diary back out and keep reading.

I’m going to seduce him again tomorrow night, and I’m going to make damned sure that it’s just as good as tonight was. Hell, I’ll screw his brains out again the night after and the night after that. Parker’s going to think he married a girl from a stag film.

And then the weekend is going to come, and I’m going to give Robert all of that and more. More because I won’t have to fake it with him. I’m not in love with Robert, but there’s no contest between him and Parker in bed. Robert finds places in me that I didn’t know existed and makes them feel heavenly.

It’s horrible because I AM in love with Parker. I just can’t stop with Robert. I can’t. Ever since the New Year’s Eve party, I can’t stop thinking about how much better it feels with him. It’s like he was born to make a woman feel completely satisfied.

So there you have it, diary. I cheated on my husband with his business rival. And his business rival was better. So now I’m going to keep sleeping with Robert and giving Parker the best sex of HIS life so I can feel less guilty about sneaking off every weekend so that I can enjoy sex too.

I put the diary away without reading the following essays. I feel guilty for reading that, but I am grateful for listening to my hunch. The reason for the current conflict between the Cartwrights and the Bellamys is much clearer now.

And the squabbling between Julian and Robert is far more serious now. I wonder if the affair between Robert and Victoria is what Robert threatened to expose. Or maybe Julian threatened to expose the affair in retaliation for a threat Robert made. Or maybe…

The image of George Terrell kissing my mother in our backyard sears itself into my present thoughts. I stiffen, filled again with the certainty that George Terrell was Annie’s father and that she is only my half-sister.

That renewed revelation should tear my thoughts far away from the Bellamys, but it’s not my sister’s parentage I’m concerned with anymore. It’s Julian’s.

Julian takes after his mother. It’s impossible to tell by appearance if he’s Robert Cartwright’s son, but the timing is right. Granted, Victoria was apparently giving Parker more than his fair share of “attention,” but that doesn’t mean there’s no chance that Robert could be Julian’s father.

And if Julian is Robert’s son and they discover the truth of their relationship, then their conflict could vanish.

Or it could become deadly.