Chapter 19

Thirty minutes later, Juliet and Rafe followed the butler into the Habersham Mansion drawing room, which was furnished with Italian Renaissance antiques. The Habersham sisters, Miss Beatrice and Miss Nell, stood near French doors leading to the garden. Their heads were tilted, their whispers harsh. Once the butler left, the women greeted them.

“Welcome.” Miss Nell waved to the love seat.

Miss Beatrice rang for the maid, who appeared quickly. “Four coffees, please.”

The maid left, and Juliet and Rafe sat on the love seat. With his arm behind her, his heat scorched her right side and his scent tickled her nose. How was she supposed to concentrate?

“Thank you for seeing us,” she said. “It’s early.”

Miss Beatrice shrugged. “Nonsense.”

The two sisters—a widow and a spinster—sat on Louis XIV chairs opposite the love seat. They wore Dior silk suits, one in lavender, the other in rose. Each in matching Louboutin heels. Between them, the sisters’ wealth almost rivaled Calum’s.

“So,” Miss Beatrice began, “you want to know the history of the Isle.”

Miss Beatrice—the sister who’d snagged Calum’s wealthy uncle and his estate known as Prideaux House—had always been the tough-talking businesswoman. Nell, more romantic, was the owner of Habersham Mansion. Since Miss Beatrice’s widowhood twenty years earlier, the two sisters had lived at the mansion while Prideaux House had fallen into ruin.

The maid returned with four coffees and a plate of muffins. Once they were settled, Juliet said, “Rafe and I need information. Someone is targeting images of my lily.”

Rafe added, “Juliet’s store and her projects have been vandalized.”

“Goodness,” Miss Nell said. “Will ours be next?”

Rafe glanced at Juliet.

“The Habersham sisters were my first clients.”

“You must see Juliet’s garden,” Miss Nell said. “We bought the houses around us and tore them down. It’s now one of the largest gardens in the city.”

“Except for Calum’s garden,” Miss Beatrice said.

Rafe nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Juliet finished her muffin and took a sip of coffee. It was so hard keeping the sisters focused. “You’re not the target. My lily is. And Calum mentioned you were studying it.”

“Not your lily,” Miss Beatrice said. “We’re studying the history of Anne Capel.”

The murderess? “Why?”

Miss Beatrice drank her coffee and then dabbed her lips with a linen napkin. “Anne Capel was accused of killing forty-four children, and we’re proving her innocence.”

Rafe scoffed. “Anne was guilty, and the people of the Isle hanged her for witchcraft.”

“Not exactly,” Miss Beatrice said. “A mob led by Josiah Montfort attempted to hang Anne. Josiah was Anne’s spurned suitor. His brother, Isaiah, was Anne’s lover.”

“The rope broke,” Miss Nell added. “Anne survived the hanging, and everyone learned she was pregnant with Isaiah’s baby.”

Juliet placed her cup on the table between the love seat and the sisters. “What does this seventeenth-century soap opera have to do with my lily?”

“Because,” Miss Nell said, “Sarah Munro believes Anne accidentally killed those children with the lily.”

“Sarah Munro?” Juliet asked, although the name sounded familiar.

“Sarah is a historian and an archivist with the Smithsonian,” Miss Beatrice said.

“Is Sarah the woman who emailed me about visiting the Cemetery of Lost Children?” The request Juliet had declined.

“Yes,” Miss Beatrice said. “Sarah is in town temporarily, working at the Savannah Preservation Office on another project for us, and offered to help sort through the documents.”

Rafe glanced at Juliet. “What documents?”

She shrugged. She was as lost as he was.

Miss Beatrice turned to her sister. “Remember Rafe and Juliet’s wedding day, Nell?”

Miss Nell waved her napkin as a fan. “Lovely.”

“You weren’t at our wedding,” Juliet said.

“We saw the photos,” Miss Beatrice said.

Rafe took Juliet’s hand, and she let him. “What photos?”

“The ones Tess took,” Miss Beatrice continued. “I think they’re in Gerald’s trunk.”

“No,” Miss Nell said. “We put them in the safe. To protect them.”

Juliet took two deep breaths. “What trunk?”

“The trunk Gerald left you.”

Juliet stood, with Rafe coming up behind her. “Excuse me?”

“Beatrice!” Miss Nell demanded. “Didn’t you tell Juliet about the trunk?”

“That was your job, dear.”

Juliet chewed her bottom lip until Rafe pulled her down to the couch and put his arm around her shoulder. He was right. She had to hold her temper if she wanted more information.

“Why does Sarah think Anne killed those kids with Juliet’s lily?” Rafe asked.

“Accidentally killed.” Miss Beatrice sighed as if exasperated they couldn’t keep up. “Sarah read about the poisoning in a book Gerald kept in the trunk.”

“Poison?” Juliet shook her head. “My lily is poisonous?”

“Of course.” Miss Beatrice’s politely worded duh made Juliet want to scream.

“I don’t understand,” Rafe said. “How could we not know this poison story?”

Miss Nell smiled over her cup. “Maybe you weren’t paying attention.”

Juliet wanted to laugh but was afraid she’d cry.

“Do you have the documents Sarah was working with?” Rafe asked.

“They might be in the trunk,” Miss Beatrice said. “Unless Sarah still has them.”

“My trunk,” Juliet said. “Which my daddy left me. But no one told me about.”

“Your lawyer, John Sinclair, was very specific,” Miss Beatrice said. “We were told not to release the trunk until Rafe came home.”

Juliet stood again. “You knew Rafe was coming home?”

Miss Beatrice stood as well. “John Sinclair told us Rafe would return, just not when.”

“How did John know?”

“Gerald told him. Right after Gerald added Rafe’s name to your deeds.”

“Would you like to see your trunk?” Miss Nell rang the bell for the maid. “Now that Rafe is here, we can release it.”

Juliet leaned against Rafe, and he tucked her beneath his shoulder. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could deal with the sisters. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either,” he said, his breath stirring her hair.

Miss Nell came over and touched Juliet’s cheek. “Your daddy didn’t want you opening the trunk alone. He wanted you to open it with your husband.”

“Ex-husband. And how did you know my daddy put Rafe’s name on my deeds?”

Miss Beatrice took a chain from around her neck and handed it to Juliet. It held a brass key. “We’re the ones who recommended it.”

Rafe tightened his hold. She wasn’t sure what she would’ve done, but smashing the Limoges teacups seemed like a place to start. “I don’t understand how my daddy knew Rafe would come home.”

“Because he had faith,” Miss Nell said. “Something you need a bit more of.”

Rafe squeezed Juliet’s shoulder as if knowing she was about to start throwing things. “Did you ever hear about a vial Anne supposedly owned?”

The sisters shared a look before Miss Beatrice said, “Call Sarah. I’ll text you her number.”

Juliet and Rafe shared an exasperated sigh.

When the maid appeared, Miss Nell said, “Escort Rafe and his bride to the guesthouse. Then bring in Mr. Delacroix when he arrives.”

Miss Beatrice touched Juliet’s arm. “You do know Mr. Delacroix is buying Prideaux House? Maybe you’d like to talk to him about the garden?”

“I’m already working on a bid for the redesign.”

“Good. We’ll add our recommendation.”

Rafe’s voice exploded. “What’s up with the women of this city selling their property?”

“There’s no need to raise your voice, Rafe Montfort,” Miss Nell said as the maid led them away. “Juliet, show your husband our garden. It’s so romantic.”

* * *

Rafe had put up with many things while working for the Prince—lies, beatings, torture—suffering for the good of the brotherhood. But he resented being manipulated.

“Can you believe my lily is poisonous?” Juliet whispered as they left. “Or that the sisters never told me about my daddy’s trunk?”

Rafe’s hand rested on her lower back. “I don’t know what to believe. And I think we need to be careful with who we trust. No matter how sweet they seem to be.”

For all their gentility, the sisters hadn’t become wealthy just through inheritance and marrying well. They were sharks. Prideaux House and the Habersham Mansion were the second- and third-largest homes in the historic district, after Calum’s.

“I agree.” Juliet glanced at him. “If the story of Anne’s poison is true, do you think that’s what’s in the vial you’re looking for?”

Sweat beaded his neck. “Anything’s possible.”

“Can you tell me why you have to find this vial? Or who wants it?”

“I don’t know why. And I can’t tell you who.”

She sighed. “I just have to trust you?”

He studied her lowered head as they left the patio and entered a brick-walled garden that filled a city block. “Yes.”

She nodded, and he ached to know her thoughts. He was asking a lot, and she had no reason to trust him. The fact that she was, even reluctantly, spoke to her strength and courage.

He followed her to a Pan fountain in the center of the garden with boxwood-lined paths running in spokes. Flowers and blooming trees stood in perfect symmetry. Scents of gardenia mingled with roses filled his lungs. He took her hand, and she didn’t pull away.

Inside the guesthouse, they found the trunk beneath a window. She knelt and inserted the key. Musty air escaped, and they laid the contents on the floor. They organized stacks of oversized folders and a white dress wrapped in linen and, on the bottom, found a duffel bag loaded with enough guns and ammo to arm the Georgia militia.

Rafe lifted the heavy duffel and moved it out of the way. Although Juliet didn’t seem interested in the arsenal Gerald had left her, they’d probably need it.

She sat on the floor, and he moved until their shoulders touched. The folders held architectural plans for Capel Manor. As Juliet studied the designs, he noticed an envelope marked with the name Juliet.

She opened it. “It’s a copy of a detailed map of the Cemetery of Lost Children and the surrounding land.”

Delicate leaves interspersed with swords, fish, and Juliet’s lilies had been drawn within the margins, reminding him of a medieval text. He pointed to the photocopied image of a ragged edge and a cut-off compass rose. “The original must’ve been old. Maybe seventeenth-century. And it was torn.”

“What are those numbers and letters written along the top?”

The ink was faint, but he could make out a partial alphanumeric sequence that had been cut off with the compass rose. “I have no idea.”

She stood and smoothed out her skirt. “If there were documents about my lily and anything pertaining to Anne Capel, they’re gone.”

Rafe refolded the map, placed it in the envelope, and put it in his jacket pocket. “Maybe Sarah has them.”

Juliet rubbed her fist along her forehead. “There’s no information here. And there’s still so much we don’t know. Like why my daddy put your name on my deeds.”

Rafe stood and took her hands. They were freezing. “Or how Gerald knew I was coming home.”

“It was Gerald’s idea to extradite Rafe, and Senator Eugene Wilkins agreed to do the work,” Miss Nell said from the doorway.

Juliet drew away from him as Miss Nell entered, holding an accordion file. “Why would my daddy want Rafe free?”

Miss Nell cupped Juliet’s face with one hand. “My dear, you’ve had so much sadness in your life. Your momma dying when you were a baby. Your daddy being a man who knew he couldn’t be a good father. He was looking out for you.”

“By finding my ex-husband? By killing himself?”

“Gerald knew Rafe would protect you with his life.” Miss Nell looked at Rafe. “Isn’t that so?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Although Rafe and Gerald had had a difficult relationship, they’d always had concern for Juliet’s safety in common. “That’s what you and Miss Beatrice were talking about when we arrived. You were arguing about whether to tell Juliet the truth.”

“The truth about what?” Juliet demanded.

Rafe touched her shoulder. “Gerald was murdered.”

Miss Nell pressed a birdlike hand against her chest. “We believe so, yes.”

Juliet sank onto the edge of the bed. “What?”

Miss Nell handed Rafe the file and sat next to her. “The last year of Gerald’s life, something frightened him terribly. He was terrified on your behalf and begged Eugene to bring Rafe home. Then Gerald asked us to help sort out the history of the Isle and the story about Anne Capel. After Eugene’s and Detective Legare’s deaths, we recommended that Gerald put Rafe’s names on the deeds to Capel land. Whatever was happening, it was happening on that land. And we thought adding Rafe’s name would give you another layer of protection.”

Juliet frowned, and Rafe took her hand.

“Gerald’s actions,” Rafe said, “no matter how old-fashioned, don’t account for his suicide.”

Miss Nell nodded. “Beatrice and I believe the same person killed Eugene, Detective Legare, and Gerald. We just don’t know why. Or what Gerald was so frightened of that he’d seek Rafe’s extradition and our help to study the history of Anne Capel.”

Rafe swallowed before opening the accordion file on the bed.

“What are they?” Juliet asked Miss Nell.

“Tess’s photographs. Since Pops and Gerald never got along, she gave them to us for safekeeping, not long before her death. Beatrice and I thought it was time to give them to you.”

Rafe laid out his momma’s photos, all of them exquisite, and chose one of Juliet in a white sundress sitting at the end of a dock in the back meadow. Through the hazy glaze of floating dandelion seeds and humidity, her bare feet splashed the water, her hair hung to her waist. He remembered this. It was her fifteenth birthday. Even though he’d always adored her, it was the moment he realized she was the only woman he’d ever love. He’d been nineteen, and it was the day he started keeping count. He married her four years later.

Juliet sifted through others while he found a wedding photo. They were leaving the church, laughing. He clutched her free hand while her other held a bouquet of white gardenias, pink roses, and lavender.

“Miss Nell,” Juliet said softly, “what was Eugene looking for the day he died?”

“Your lily. He thought if he could find one and have it analyzed, maybe he could prove Anne’s innocence.”

“Anne died over three hundred years ago,” Rafe said. “Why does her story matter?”

“It mattered to Gerald, and he believed it would matter to Juliet. When he came to us for help—which was an extraordinary act in and of itself—we said yes.”

“You all were working on this together?” Juliet asked. “You, Miss Beatrice, Eugene, and my daddy?”

Miss Nell nodded. “When Eugene died, Calum joined our little group. And Sarah has been doing some research for us.”

Rafe stacked the photos. “Why do you think Gerald didn’t kill himself?”

“Gerald wasn’t a coward. Beatrice and I believe the three men were murdered looking for the secret behind Juliet’s lily. Calum believes it too.”

Rafe’s phone rang. It was Pete. “I have to take this.”

Juliet nodded. “I’ll pack up the photos. Can I get the trunk later?”

“Yes,” Miss Nell said. “Rafe, you can take the call in the garden. I want to show Juliet the dress Gerald saved for her. It was her momma’s wedding gown.”

Juliet wiped her cheeks with the heels of her hands. “I’d love to see it.”

Once outside, Rafe answered, “What’s up?”

“A new problem.”

After Pete finished, Rafe sat on a bench. The scent of roses he’d savored earlier now burned his nose. “Fuck.”

“The word of the day,” Pete said. “What do we do?”

“Let Calum know we’ll be there soon.”

“And Nate? He’s at the gym.”

“Tell Nate to stay put. I don’t want him near Garza.” Rafe shut his phone and went to get his father-in-law’s arsenal. That probably had become a definitely.