CHAPTER 67
THE ROAD ABOVE THE VINES
The north hill road was narrower than Miles expected.
It climbed away from the main vineyard like a thought no brochure had been allowed to print.
On either side, vines stepped down the slope in disciplined rows, their leaves darkening as dusk settled over the valley.
The last light of the sun remained at the horizon, copper and bruised purple, catching the windows of the tasting room far below.
Serena sat quietly, the red dress pooling over her knees. The card lay in her lap. She had volunteered to hold it when they passed the main gate, and the housekeeper in the small stone booth had accepted the card with a nod so unsurprised it made Miles feel both expected and exposed.
'She did not even blink,' he said after they drove on.
'Maybe she has seen worse than us.'
'That is comforting and horrifying.'
Serena looked out at the vines. 'Do you think everyone who comes up here is like us?'
'I do not know what like us means anymore.'
'Married.'
'Probably some.'
'Afraid.'
'Definitely some.'
'Curious.'
Miles glanced at her. 'All of them.'
She accepted that without looking away from the window.
The road curved around a stand of cypress trees, and the vineyard house appeared above them.
It was not a mansion in the vulgar sense.
That almost made it worse. It was old stone and dark glass, low against the hill, with a slate roof and terraces stepping toward the vines.
Warm light glowed from inside, not bright, not welcoming exactly, but awake.
A fountain moved somewhere in the courtyard, the sound faint through the closed windows.
Miles parked beside two other cars. One he recognized as Vivienne's black sedan from the night before. The other was a silver coupe he did not know but immediately assigned to Julian because jealousy enjoyed making inventories.
Serena touched his arm before he opened the door. 'Current weather?'
He breathed in. 'Windy.'
'Storm warning?'
'Not yet.'
'Curiosity?'
He looked at the house. Through one window, he saw shelves of bottles and the warm gleam of a long table. Through another, a figure moved in a white shirt and dark vest.
Julian.
Miles felt the old sharpness, but it did not arrive alone. There was also the strange pull that had troubled him since the first pour: the desire to see what would happen if he did not shut the door simply because another man stood near it.
'High,' he said.
Serena nodded. 'Mine too.'
They got out of the car.
The air smelled of dry earth, lavender, and distant oak smoke. Somewhere below, the main tasting room would be filling with guests expecting education, elegance, and a safe story to tell over brunch. Up here, the story had fewer witnesses and more consequence.
The front door opened before they knocked.
Vivienne stood inside wearing black again, though tonight the dress was softer, less like armor and more like a verdict.
'You are on time,' she said.
Miles looked at his watch. 'Is that a compliment?'
'It is an observation. Do not become sentimental.'
Serena smiled. 'Good evening.'
Vivienne's gaze took in the red dress without rudeness and without pretending not to notice. 'Excellent color.'
Serena's cheeks warmed. 'Thank you.'
'Come in.'
The foyer smelled faintly of waxed wood and old wine. The walls held framed maps of vineyards rather than family portraits. It made the house feel devoted to time instead of people.
Julian waited at the far end of the hall beside an open doorway.
He did not move toward Serena first. Miles noticed that immediately. Julian looked at them both, then inclined his head with the same composure that had made the tasting room feel like an altar.
'Mr. and Mrs. Delaney,' he said. 'Thank you for coming.'
Serena's hand found Miles's, not tightly, but enough.
'We are here,' Miles said.
Julian's eyes flicked to their joined hands, and something like approval crossed his face.
'Then we begin,' he said.
Miles stepped through the doorway with his wife beside him, and the road behind them disappeared into the dark.