Page 4 of Siren's Call

Without a backward glance, she gathered up the skirts of her gown and hurried out of the drawing room.

Once outside, she shouted, “Leila, help me out of this dress.”

“Goodnight, Juliet,” Hector called after her, but Juliet had disappeared.

CHAPTER 10

Shortly after Juliet had changed into her nightdress and sent Leila away for the evening, there was a knock at her door. She had thought that Leila had forgotten something, or the housekeeper wanted to check on her, but instead, she was greeted by Hector, who was looking at her with an odd expression on his face.

“Hector? Do you need something?” asked Juliet, surprised to see him at her doorstep.

“I…I wanted to see if you have a proper bedcover,” Hector stuttered as his gaze darted around nervously.

“Is it always so cold here?” Her voice hitched slightly as she stood in the doorway and tightened a blanket around her shoulders.

“The nights can be unbearable. The cold seeps through the walls and can make it quite difficult to sleep comfortably.” Hectorwalked into the room and made a show of adjusting the curtains and pushing the fabric back and forth. “That was why I had this very room prepared for you. It is warmer than the rest.”

“Thank you for being so considerate,” Juliet said, genuinely touched. “I did not imagine you would be so thoughtful.”

Hector cleared his throat and turned around. “I will now let you rest.” At the door, he stopped and added, “Please ensure that you are sufficiently covered.” With that parting remark, he turned on his heels and disappeared down the dimly lit corridor.

Juliet shook her head and wondered what had instigated that odd conversation. As she climbed into bed, she mused that Hector was not the man she had initially believed him to be. In his own, strange way, maybe he did care about her.

Juliet awoke the next morning with that notion lingering in her mind. As she strolled through the grand hall, she noticed that Islington manor seemed to look brighter and more cheerful than the previous day.

Although she had been given a tour of Islington Hall earlier, she had become tired halfway through and had yet to see several areas within the estate. Since she had not made any concrete plans for the day, Juliet decided to take herself on an adventure and explore the rest of the estate on her own.

“Such a lovely design, and the walls are so tall,” she mused with a small smile.

The estate was vast, impressive, and filled with soaring ceilings adorned with intricate carvings and walls lined with portraits of generations past. Yet, despite its grandeur, the place felt more like a mausoleum than a home.

Juliet needed to make their space more pleasing and welcoming if she was to build a life for them within these walls.

“I must find ways to make it more attractive.”

As she walked, her eyes were drawn to one particular portrait. It was a family tableau that featured Hector, Lydia, and their parents. Lydia’s image had been captured at a younger age when she was still filled with health and life. Juliet felt drawn to it, unable to keep herself from stepping closer.

“Oh, darling Lydia, why did an illness have to claim you?” She sighed sadly as she ran her fingers across the milky face of her dear friend. “I do not understand why people like Mother Superior are permitted to live despite all their cruelty whilst the good souls are taken away so early.”

Her mood dampened as she gazed at her dear friend’s image. Lydia had always been the source of light in her life. She was the one person who had shown her kindness when the world was anything but.

“Your Grace?” A voice interrupted her thoughts, and Juliet turned to see the housekeeper standing a few paces behind her.

“Mrs. Harris,” Juliet acknowledged distractedly before returning her attention to the portrait. “Tell me, what sickness claimed my dear friend? Was it a brief one? I hope she did not suffer for too long if it was dire. Was there anyone with her? I was never told.”

“I am sorry, Your Grace; hers was a brief illness.” Estella’s gaze darted to the portrait. She shook her head as if to stop herself from saying too much. “Is there something I can assist you with?”

Juliet hesitated then nodded. “Yes, actually. I wanted to know about her…about her last days here.” Estella hesitated and Juliet sighed. “She was the only friend I had in London. Even after my family abandoned me, Lydia did not. We wrote to each other every month until she passed.”

“Those were your letters?” the housekeeper asked in surprise. “My lady was always sending letters to someone. She had been so excited each time she sent one off or received another that, at first, we assumed it was a secret lover.”

“Her letters also brought happiness to my days,” Juliet mused, the corners of her lips turning upward slightly with the memory. “I always stood by the gate, waiting for the coachman to drop off letters for the convent, and he would take mine with him.”

Estella took a deep breath and turned away from the portrait. “You made her happy, Your Grace,” she said. “Lady Lydia was a dear soul. Her passing was a great loss to all of us.”

Juliet swallowed, feeling a lump form in her throat. “I understand,” she said quietly. “But I…what I want to know is how she spent her final days. I could not be here for her when she needed my comfort the most. I desperately wanted to be with her before she passed. I owed her that much for all she had done for me.” "

Estella studied Juliet momentarily, her eyes searching the younger woman’s face.