Rosalind gaped at her mother, sure she'd just stepped into an alternative reality. She had the will? This whole time, while they were supposed to be looking for it?
Bea was the one who broke the silence. "Mother, I swore I just heard you say you have the will."
"The will you asked Bea and me to find," Rosalind added because it had to be pointed out.
Their mother took a swig of the rye and handed it to Viola when she held her hand out for it. Jacqueline lifted her head and nodded. "I had the will the whole time. Reginald's copy. Barrows still has the original."
They all started talking at once-loudly-except for Rosalind who studied her mother, wondering if they shouldn't have been more worried about her sanity, because the only reason to have them search for something she had in her possession was madness.
Fran walked into the room, frowning. "What's this? A quorum? Can anyone join?"
"You may want to run, Fran," Viola said, slurring a little. She took another sip. "You probably don't want to be here when it gets ugly."
Fran looked at Jacqueline. "You told them?"
Their mother nodded. "It was past time, don't you think?"
Rosalind held her hands up. "Wait a minute. You knew that Mum had the will she wanted us to find, Fran?"
"Don't blame Lady Jacs." Their old nanny came and joined the circle, sitting on the edge of the couch instead of the floor. "I was the one who pushed her to do it."
Suddenly all the whispering and the nightcaps made more sense. Rosalind stared at them, not sure whether she should be horribly upset by their ruse or deeply impressed.
Shaking her head, Portia said, "Why? I don't understand."
"It was time to mend the rift in the family, wasn't it?" Fran shared a look with her employer before facing the rest of them. "I won't speak ill of the dead, so I won't say what a blighter Reginald Summerhill was in life, but with him gone there was a chance for all of us to be a family."
"I wanted to bring you all together," their mother admitted with quiet dignity. "The way I drove you apart."
"But she couldn't do it if Rosalind left to go back to the states." Fran took one of the macarons and popped it into her mouth.
"And I had to do something to get you girls to come together."
"But you only asked me and Bea to look for the will," Rosalind pointed out.
"You and Beatrice have the biggest sense of responsibility."
She glanced at her oldest sister, who shrugged back, unable to deny it.
"But I asked Portia to help you pack away your father's things."
"What about me?" Viola said.
Their mum took her second daughter's hand. "Viola, you're the most loyal of all the girls. You and Bea were inseparable as children. Your lives may have taken different paths, but when Bea needs you, you're there for her, and vice versa."
Bea took Vi's other hand, but her attention zeroed on their mother. "Do you know what the will says?"
"Yes."
There was a pregnant pause, and then Bea waved her hand. "And?"
Jacqueline shook her head. "Summer Welles should be here for that."
Bea sat up, anger flaming her face. "So he did change his will?"
Their mother looked at Fran. "In a manner of speaking."
"I'm not keen on seeing Summer," Rosalind admitted, curling into herself.
"She's your sister," her mother pointed out.
That still rendered her speechless. "She lied to me," she finally managed.
Her mother frowned. "I lied to you, too. Does that mean you're never going to talk to me either?"
"That's ..." She pursed her lips. "Okay, well it's not different. But I'm upset with her."
"You're upset with me, too. I know you all are, for your own reasons. I'm sorry, and I hope you allow me to be part of your lives now." She looked each of them in the eye. "I also hope you let Summer be part of your lives."
Portia reached for the whiskey at the same moment Viola raised it to her mouth. "Vi, you need to share."
"Get your own bottle."
Rosalind took it from her older sister. "Technically this is mine."
"You need to bloody learn to share, too, Ros." Vi laid down, her head in Bea's lap, and closed her eyes.
Fran reached for the afghan behind her and handed it to Bea, who covered Viola. Then she said, in a lowered voice, "So what are we going to do?"
"Someone I know always says cracked eggs make pudding." Jacqueline covered the hand Fran laid on her shoulder, a smile on the edge of her lips. "We decide that this will bring us together in harmony, rather than bitterness."
There were feminine voices in the hallway, and they all frowned. Fran jumped up the moment a glamorous blonde who looked very much like a modern day Veronica Lake swept into the room.
Imogen's crimson lips curved into a smile that was both innocent and knowing. "Darlings! What have I missed?"
But it was the person behind her that everyone stared at.
Summer hovered hesitantly in the doorway, her black outfit camouflaging her in the shadows.
Rosalind stood up, as did Jacqueline.
Her mother walked forward, taking Imogen into her arms and kissing both her cheeks. "I'm happy you're home."
Her younger sister clung to their mum for a second. With her eyes closed, she looked six again. But then she opened her eyes, which glistened, and smiled. "It seems I'm in time for a party. Fran, did you make shortbread?"
"Ach." The older woman stood up and crushed Imogen to her chest, the way she always had.
Jacqueline faced their father's illegitimate daughter. "Summer."
"You know me?" Their father's other daughter paled.
"Of course, I know you." Jacqueline held out her hand. "Come in."
"I'm sorry I'm here. I came to talk to Rosalind again. I did a bad thing, and she's punishing the wrong person." Summer entered carefully, her gaze on Rosalind's. "I would hate myself if I thought that you left Nick because of me. I came to see if I could do anything to change your mind and give him another chance."
"Come in," Jacqueline said again, taking Summer's hand and giving it a squeeze. "I'm happy you're here."
"You are?" Summer and Portia both said together.
"Yes. You're family."
"Especially since you paid for her tuition," Bea added dryly.
"What?" Summer gaped at Beatrice before turning to Jacqueline. "I thought my father did."
"Reginald wouldn't have had the foresight, and I wanted all his daughters to have the same opportunities." She lifted Summer's chin and examined her. "You have a little of all my girls in you, plus I imagine some of your mother."
"I-" Summer swallowed, shaking her head. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse. "I'm so sorry. I wish it wasn't like this."
"You were as much a casualty of this war as my daughters. The fault lies with Reginald, Tabitha, and me." Holding Summer's hand, Jacqueline turned to all of them. "This will not end a tragedy. One more sister can only be a good thing."
"Unless she tries to borrow my shoes," Imogen drawled, going to recline on the couch next to Fran. "Then all bets are off."
Bea shook her head, still on the floor with Vi in her lap. "I would never have predicted this. So where do we go from here?"
"I get the will, and you girls read it all together." Their mother calmly swept from the room.
They all watched her go, speechless. Then Portia turned to Imogen. "Gigi, I just realized where you get your dramatic flair from."
"Genetics are an amazing thing, aren't they?" their movie star sister said as she unwrapped layers of elegant outerwear.
Rosalind looked at Summer, who was watching her with a combination of regret and hope. She sighed and reached out her hand. "Genetics trump all, don't they?"
They decided Bea should read the will out loud.
Their mum sat on the floor, next to Rosalind and Summer, who still looked shell-shocked. "Have some of the rye," Rosalind suggested as Bea opened the legal document.
"I don't drink much," she said, but she sipped a tiny bit, coughing discreetly.
Rosalind looked at Portia, who rolled her eyes.
"There's a lot of legal stuff in here, which I'm going to skip," Bea announced. "The end is where he wrote to us, and it outlines how he's dividing the estate, so I'll just start there."
No one disagreed, though Viola sighed in her sleep from where she was passed out on the floor.
Bea shook her head, lowering the papers and reaching her hand out. "I need some whiskey first."
"That doesn't bode well," Rosalind said, handing it over.
Her sister took a hefty gulp and dabbed her mouth with her fingers. Then she took a deep breath and began to read.
I always wanted a son to carry on the Summerhill heritage and title. I didn't get one, and I regret that.
The title will, of course, go to the next in line, even though he's an American and, clearly, unworthy. I can do nothing about this.
I've always adhered to the Summerhill family motto: Honour and Family. Therefore, I will divide the rest of the estate in this way. What is left includes the South Street house and all the possessions within.
In respect to honour, half the estate will be given to Jacqueline Summerhill, Countess of Amberlin. She has done the title credit, and deserves acknowledgment in such.
In respect to family, the other half will be awarded to Tabitha Welles, the woman I've loved all these years.
Bea lowered the papers, fury in her eyes. "If he weren't dead, I'd kill him."
"Acknowledgment," her mother repeated, her head high. In her eyes, there was a disturbing light.
Rosalind took her hand. "Mum?"
Her mother squeezed her palm, but her gaze was far off. Rosalind wondered if maybe she was murdering Reginald Summerhill, too. "That's rather concise, isn't it?" Jacqueline said in a clipped voice.
"I'm so sorry," Summer said, sounding miserable.
Jacqueline faced her, her expression fierce. "You will not take any of this on."
"Yes, ma'am," Summer said immediately, visibly quailing.
Their mother stood up and looked at all of them. "None of you will take this on. I mean for us to continue as a family, Reginald be damned. If you have objections, I'll hear them now," she said, looking pointedly at Portia.
Portia's eyes widened, but she said nothing.
"Good." Jacqueline turned to Summer. "Welcome to the family. For better or worse, you're a Summerhill now."