The Daughters of Winston Barnett

by Dara Girard

  "They won't despise you Daddy, please listen to me."

  "You've been traveling all over, haven't you? I've not said a word. One moment you're in Michigan the next you're in Pennsylvania, your sister goes off to Jamaica and mi say nothing."

  "We're fully grown. It's not the same."

  "I've already said yes. And my word is my word."

  "But—"

  Mr. Barnett cupped his ear. "Do you hear that?" He paused. "It's called peace. I like peace. And I did not have any until I said yes. Even your mother saw no harm in their going so why should you?"

  "I've told you why. I think you should endure a week, or even a month of their bad temper and sulking, instead of allowing them such a big taste of freedom. Maxine is vain, arrogant, and without restraint and you know that she influences Trudy. Whatever Maxine does Trudy will follow. All we have is our good name. One stain can ruin it. Please Daddy, I'm begging you, don't allow them to go."

  Mr. Barnett slowly stood then came from around the desk. He took Janet's hand. "We survived the scandal with the Maliks and the incident with Brother Jerome. I know how to protect my name. I can assure you that neither you nor Beverly will be judged by your sisters' behavior. Everyone knows them to be silly, and perhaps a taste of the world, under the trained eye of a church sister will sober them up. It will keep them busy this summer. I've heard you, but I have decided. They are going. The discussion is finished."

  Janet left her father's study, knowing that there was nothing more to say. She headed for her bedroom, but her mother stopped her in the hallway. "Talk to me," she said then walked into the family room.

  Janet glanced up at the ceiling and inwardly groaned then followed.

  "How are the Jeromes doing?" Mrs. Barnett asked easing into the couch.

  Janet fell into a chair. "Very well."

  "Do they have a large house?"

  "Medium sized and very comfortable."

  "Naturally, Brother Jerome has the money to furnish it sufficiently. I'm sure they have no financial worries."

  "We didn't talk about money."

  "No, wealthy people never have to. Oh, if only Beverly had been able to get Jeffrey. I can't blame her, she tried, but what a blessing that would have been. I'd hoped she might have come back from Jamaica with some news, you know about meeting someone there, but nothing." Her mother kissed her teeth in disgust.

  Janet blinked appalled. "Dee-dee she was recovering from her illness."

  "I know, but a mother can still hope. At least Trudy and Maxine are in high spirits. Isn't it wonderful that your father is letting them go on the trip?"

  Janet made a noncommittal sound.

  "You disagree? Is that what you were talking to your father about?"

  "I just think—"

  Mrs. Barnett held up her hand. "There are two parents in this house not three. We know how to raise our children."

  Janet slumped further into her chair as she watched her mother leave. She released a weary sigh, feeling the weight of being under her father's roof.

  Over the next several weeks Janet busied herself with her studies and by May finished her last class. As everyone else raced out of the room, Janet sat at a desk knowing she would never have to enter another classroom again. She'd accomplished her goal and earned her degree. Janet knew there would be no ceremony, no congratulations, but she was proud of herself. The only certificate she knew her parents would be proud of was one that began with the letter "M".

  Before going home, she treated herself to an ice cream cone then walked the campus grounds.

  "Hey Janet!"

  She turned and waited for Marisa to catch up with her.

  "What happened?" Janet asked amazed by Marisa's transformation. Her nails were clear, her hair an ordinary brown and her nose ring gone.

  "My grandfather's visiting from Spain. I didn't want to give him a heart attack."

  "You look great both ways."

  "Thanks. So are you finished?"

  "Yes. You?"

  "One more course this evening then I'm through. So what are you going to do to celebrate?"

  Janet gestured to her cone. "I am celebrating."

  Marisa looked at her as if she'd suddenly started to fly. "What? No party. No big trip. Nothing?"

  "My family isn't into degrees. But I'm going to visit my aunt and uncle in Montreal this summer."

  "Well, my family is celebrating and they're sending me to Paris for six months."

  "That sounds fabulous."

  Marisa looked embarrassed. "Yes, well they're okay." She pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the table. "When I get back, if you're ever interested in hooking up sometime we can get in touch."

  "I will."

  Marisa smiled then left.

  Janet tucked the paper away and finished her ice cream. She still didn't feel like going home yet so she lay back on the grass, letting the sun warm her face.

  "Mind if I join you?" a male voice said from above.

  Janet's eyes flew open and at first the sun cast the speaker's face in shadow. She sat up and shielded her eyes to see who it was. When she did, she nearly ran.

  Chapter 33

  "Wilcox!"

  He grinned. "See? You're not the only one who can deliver surprises."

  Before she would have been flattered by him seeking her out and charmed by his smile, but now his attention seemed self-serving and his easy smile made her skin crawl. "What are you doing here?"

  He sat on the grass beside her. "I had some business in the area. I'm surprised that I hadn't heard from you before you'd completed your courses. I offered to help you, remember?"

  "I'm going to be working at The House of Design."

  "But interior design is—"

  "Is what I've chosen to do," Janet said in a tone that surprised him. "I don't need to be a gallery artist."

  "Well, if you ever change your mind, call me."

  Janet glanced at a passing bicyclist.

  He cleared his throat, unsure of her strange mood. "I stopped by your house and said hello to your family."

  Janet turned to him and gasped as if he'd undressed himself. "You stopped by my house?"

  He frowned. "You sound surprised. I've visited there many times before."

  Her tone turned grim. "Yes, I'm aware of that. Who did you speak to?"

  "Everyone. Your mother and father seem to be in good health and his business is going well. Francine told me that she's doing well at junior college and Maxine and Trudy went on and on about their upcoming school trip. They're very excited."

  "Yes. You know I've had a chance to travel myself. I visited my friend Valerie in Pennsylvania. I saw Durand there. He was staying with an acquaintance, Mrs. Amsted and her daughter Daphne. Do you know them?"

  A series of emotions crossed his features—shock, wariness, alarm—but his smile soon returned. "A little." He searched her face. "How long did you stay?"

  "A while," she said purposefully vague.

  "And did you have the misfortune of seeing Durand often?"

  Janet lowered her gaze and ran her hand along the grass, her tone nonchalant although her words were not. "I saw him nearly every day."

  "I'm sorry. That must have ruined your holiday."

  "Not at all." She drew up her knees, looking Russell squarely in the face. "He improves the more I get to know him."

  Russell's brows shot up. "Really?" He laughed. "Perhaps you're confusing him with Milton. That animal is a charmer and perhaps his presence puts Durand in a different light."

  "No," Janet said in a quiet tone. She boldly met his gaze. "I can tell the difference between a dog and a man."

  "Right. Perhaps that joke was in poor taste." Russell ran a hand over his head amazed. "It's no big deal. He knows how to behave with people he wants to impress. And he always puts on a good appearance when he is around his sponsor. I'm glad that he's kind to others in public, although in private we know how his behavior truly is. Every day I'm reminded of his cruel tre
atment of me. I know his father would weep at the man he's become." Russell leaned back, his expression smug.

  "Yes, he probably would weep for both of you, but for very different reasons."

  Russell frowned, not sure how to interpret her statement. "My father would be sad to know how my life has turned out."

  Janet only smiled. She would not allow him to reopen the subject. She'd never be an audience for his stories again.

  "I—" His mobile phone rang cutting him off. He looked at the number and scowled then stood. "I have to go." He waved then left.

  Janet watched him and muttered, "Yes, please go and never come back."

  * * *

  As expected, there was no big to-do about Janet completing her degree or staring her new job at The House of Design. Weeks later the Barnetts bustled with excitement as they stood outside the high school beside the luxury tour bus hired for the trip. Mrs. Barnett fussed over her daughters, telling them all the ills of the world that they had to be careful of. Mr. Barnett only nodded in agreement. Then they watched them get on the bus and stared as it drove away.

  "The house will be so quiet without them," Mrs. Barnett said.

  Mr. Barnett grinned at Janet. "Thank God for that."

  But Mr. Barnett wasn't smiling the next week when Janet told him about her job. "What do you have to go to Delaware for?"

  She looked at the books lining her father's bookshelves. "It's a job."

  "What kind of job takes you out of state for a week?"

  "Many jobs do."

  "But you're an interior designer."

  "Sort of."

  "What do you mean, sort of?"

  "My specialty is faux painting and trompe l'oeil. For the job I've been assigned, I'm painting a mural for one of Charlotte's important clients."

  "Charlotte?" he repeated shocked that she'd used the woman's first name.

  "Mrs. Blakemore. I worked for her last summer and have known her nearly a year. She's my employer and doesn't mind the way I address her. She prefers it. Don't worry, I am always respectful."

  He nodded his consent. "At least she's a woman and not a man."

  "She wants me on this project because the artist they hired fell ill and she thinks I'm the perfect one to finish it."

  He sighed resigned. "Very well."

  * * *

  Janet reveled in her freedom as they sped down the highway in Charlotte's yellow Corvette. Even though she was still living at home and was still under her father's rule, for a week she would be a working woman in the modern age and wouldn't have to answer to anyone. No friends or family to impress. She could be completely herself.

  "I'm so glad you're doing this Janet," Charlotte said, turning the radio station to classic rock. "I was determined to get you on this project, even if Sara hadn't fallen ill. You're going to love it. Frederick Durand is always a pleasure to work with."

  Janet stiffened. "Durand?"

  "Yes, your friend."

  "My friend?" she stammered. "I hardly know him."

  "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were close since he recommended you for this position."

  Janet felt as if her throat was closing. "He did?"

  "Oh damn, I guess he didn't want me to mention it." She shrugged. "Oh well at least I kept it to myself this long."

  "He didn't want you to tell me?"

  "No, he hates to be thanked. You'd think he'd like it since he's always helping people." She checked her lipstick in the rearview mirror. "He is one of the most generous clients I know, an absolute doll. I love working with him on his homes." She glanced at Janet and laughed. "Don't look so worried. He's not going to be there looking over your shoulder. He's traveling abroad."

  Janet began to breathe again. "Oh."

  "But he has wonderful taste. Some single men are nightmares, but Frederick is sweet, gorgeous and rich. I can't believe he's still single." She ran a hand through her hair and let the wind blow it. "My divorce is almost final and I know he's considerably younger, but..." A teasing smile spread on her face. "he'd be a great distraction, don't you think? He always makes me laugh."

  Were they talking about the same man? "Durand is funny?"

  "Hilarious when he wants to be." Charlotte flashed a knowing smile. "You should really see some of the tricks he's taught that dog of his. He's not as straight-laced as you'd think. He's full of surprises."

  Frederick's house was definitely one. It was a designer showpiece, a stately stone and brick estate situated on a sprawling wooded lot. Charlotte had a copy of the key and let them in. Unlike many grand homes inside wasn't cold and didn't feel like a museum. Janet saw pictures of his friends and those she supposed to be his family, everywhere. Charlotte gave her a brief tour of part of the house. Janet marveled at the grand foyer, formal living and dining room, library, master bedroom which had its own private deck; four full baths, two fireplaces, wraparound porch, and fully finished basement with a wet bar and media center. There was an in-law apartment, but it was locked.

  When they entered the conservatory Janet saw a grand piano. He plays the piano? She turned to a window and saw an obstacle training course where he probably trained Milton.

  In the main hallway Janet looked up and saw a large oil painting of a lake scene. She looked at the signature, Elani Durand—his sister. But it was the drawing next to it that shocked her. He'd framed the sketch she'd done of him. She wanted to turn away but remained transfixed.

  How strange it was to hear him described by Charlotte. Generous, funny, warm? He'd recommended her for this job? How far did his connections reach? How powerful was he in organizing or arranging people's lives? Who was he really? But she knew the answer. He was a great client, a kind brother, a loyal friend and he'd once loved her.

  The thought brought heat to her face. She dismissed it and focused on her sketch. It had been adequate, but not accurate. If she had a chance to draw him again she would soften the lines of his mouth and make the look in his eyes more tender. She had seen that expression once and it haunted her at the oddest moments.

  Janet turned from the drawing and continued down the hall amazed by its vastness. She didn't have more time to look around before Charlotte called her to show her the partially completed mural. The finished product would be an image of a stained glass window. Working from the artist's sketches, Janet got to work.

  That night she lay in one of Fredericks' guest bedrooms, running her hand over the sensuous feel of the fine linen sheets. If she'd said 'yes', she'd be home right now. The thought sobered her. That was impossible. He was a wealthy man and their cultures and lives were too different. But she couldn't help wondering if he wandered the halls at night as he had at the lake house.

  The next couple of days Janet worked hard. She wanted the final picture to be so magnificent anyone looking at it would think they could open the window and see the sun. Each day, she went to work early and left late. She barely saw Charlotte, who busied herself working on renovating one of the bedrooms. On the fourth day, although her shoulders ached, Janet finished the final detail of the sun cascading through the glass.

  She was so engrossed in her task that at first she didn't hear the soft paws padding on the wooden floor. When she did, she turned and saw Milton. Before she could react, Frederick came around the corner.

  He halted as if he'd hit a wall.

  Janet stood frozen. She knew him, but felt like she didn't know him at all. In his dark suit, he looked much like what he was—wealthy, attractive, privileged—but now she knew there was much more to him. That his hands had saved her sister's life; that his arms had carried her to safety; that his mouth had spoken words she'd never thought she'd hear and that his heart had once been hers.

  They stared at each other then both spoke at once, apologized, then Janet said in an awkward tone, "You're here."

  "I came back early. I'm sorry I didn't let Charlotte know."

  "Why would you? It's your house."

  "Yes." He flexed his fingers and cleared his t
hroat. "How's your family. Are they all okay?"

  "Yes, thank you." Her mind briefly went blank then she said, "You have a beautiful house."

  He nodded, rubbed the back of his neck then glanced at her work. "I thought someone else was doing this."

  "They got sick so I'm finishing it."

  He took a hasty step back. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I'll leave you to finish what you were doing. Come Milton." In seconds he was gone.

  Janet sank to the ground and covered her eyes. She shouldn't have come. The last time she'd seen him was when he'd dropped her off at the train station, after showing her how foolish she'd been. What did he think of her now? She didn't want his opinion to matter but it did. He obviously didn't love her anymore, but she didn't want him to feel the opposite.

  Janet opened her eyes and looked down at her stained clothes. She looked a mess. How apt. He was Lord of the manor and she merely a servant.

  Charlotte raced up to her. "Did you see him?"

  Janet slowly rose to her feet. "I think I should go."

  "Why? You're nearly finished."

  Janet tripped over her bag, but caught herself before she fell. "I'll finish the rest tomorrow. I need to take a break. Get some air."

  "You do look a bit ill. Okay, let's go for a drive. I'll get my things."

  Janet quickly cleared up her supplies then waited by Charlotte's car. Soon the front door open and Charlotte came out followed by Frederick.

  "Where are you two off to?" he asked looking more causal in jeans and a T-shirt.

  He reminded her of how he'd looked at the lake house when he was playing badminton with Jeffrey and her fingers itched to sketch him. All of him.

  "Taking a break," Charlotte said.

  "Will you be back for dinner?"

  Janet blinked. "Dinner?"

  "Yes. I can whip up something. I've learned to feed myself when I let my chef take holidays."

  "You can cook?"

  Charlotte grabbed Janet's arm. "Honey, you're in for a treat."