Charmed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 6

by Jennifer Chance

  “It’s not all that bad—and I can’t work all the time. You don’t seem to feel the need to,” Marguerite challenged back. “Whatever happened to your professed love of college and pursuing a new degree? I haven’t seen you sign up for one class.”

  “I’ve been busy,” Caroline said stiffly. In truth, she’d been spending hours daydreaming about Pinnacle House, disguising it in the endless cleaning of her mother’s own big old vacation home. But Heron’s Point simply didn’t have the same feel as the rambling B&B on Pearl Island. It didn’t call to her. She couldn’t imagine herself standing on the porch with her coffee in her hand, welcoming the sun over one side of the island or watching it slip away to sleep over another side. She couldn’t imagine walking through the long hallways, hearing the laughter of guests, watching children play out on the wide grassy lawns or run along the pathways between the dunes. “I’ve been helping to clean Heron’s Point and get it ready for sale. And I’m helping Edeena get the jewelry back from Pinnacle House.”

  “Yes, and that would normally take about three hours. It’s been, what, three weeks now?”

  Caroline felt defensiveness surge forth, then recognized Marguerite’s redirection for what it was. Well, two people could play that game. “Something happened with your hotelier, didn’t it,” she accused. “And you haven’t told me.”

  “It only happened last night,” Marguerite snapped back. “And he’s not my hotelier. Wyndham Masters the Third and all his pretentiousness is engaged.”

  Caroline watched her sister carefully, somewhat at a loss. “Well, you knew he was engaged, didn’t you?”

  “I knew that’s what everyone said, yes. But people say a lot of things about a lot of people at that place. You never really know what to believe.”

  “But last night…”

  “Last night he brought her. Or she met him there, whatever. I was working the bar but mostly chatting with Janet Mulready, the guest manager, who is really quite lovely as long as you don’t mention Edeena’s name. She hasn’t quite gotten over Vince choosing Edeena over her.”

  “Shocking,” Caroline said dryly, remembering the leggy, buff woman. “But so, you were talking?”

  “Yes, and then in walks Wyndham, big as life, with some blonde sylph on his arm. She’s as pale as a ghost but her eyes were all made up—her whole face really—and…well, she was beautiful.” Marguerite threw her napkin on her plate. “I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Thank God I didn’t have to bring them drinks or anything.”

  “Have you and Wyndham ever actually had a conversation?” Caroline asked. She still wasn’t sure what the issue was.

  “Of course we have, several pointless ones. Ugh!” Both of them swiveled to toward the front of the house as the bell rang.

  “The agent?” Caroline asked, and Marguerite nodded quickly.

  “Am I dressed alright? Appropriately…appropriate?” she asked, and Caroline smiled.

  “You’re beautiful,” she said, and she stood and crossed to her sister, leaning down to give her a hug. “That Wyndham, he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

  To her surprise, Marguerite relaxed into her hug, giving a little giggle. “He really doesn’t,” she sighed. Then she hugged Caroline back. “But you need to get going too,” she said, leaning back to give Caroline a wink. “Those Saleri jewels aren’t going to recover themselves.”

  Simon felt himself relax for the first time in days as he guided his speedboat toward Pearl Island. His grandparents had insisted on him coming out today, complaining that they were concerned over several small issues with the house, but he didn’t believe that for a minute. He’d left the B&B in perfect condition when he’d closed it down after the thunderstorm, and he hadn’t truly wanted to go back to it. If he was honest with himself, that was mostly because Caroline wouldn’t be there.

  When he’d asked his grandparents if she’d contacted them, they’d bubbled over with enthusiasm but had never actually given him a straight response. They knew exactly how to do that, both of them talking at once until all he knew was that they were happy, healthy, and secure—and that he needed to simply get off the phone and recover from all their chatter. He frowned now, slightly, suspecting they’d manipulated him on purpose when it came to the countess, but there was no harm in it. If they’d lured her out to the retirement center and bombarded her with their stories for several afternoons, that wasn’t such a bad thing. Caroline might truly have enjoyed it. And if she didn’t, she’d never have let on Belle and Bobo or any of the rest of them. That simply wasn’t her way.

  Her way. Simon shook his head at himself. He shouldn’t feel so knowledgeable about anything regarding Caroline Saleri. The fact that they’d had a handful of conversations and—well, and something quite a bit more than a conversation—didn’t actually make what they’d had a relationship. And yet, he couldn’t keep from seeing her in the rooms at Pinnacle House, whenever he thought of the place, as if she’d left an indelible mark.

  He sighed. Possibly it was time to start winding down the old house, though he hated to do it. He’d always sworn that he would never sell it before his grandparents had passed, but with the new trip coming up at the end of the month, the usual anxiety was back. How would he be able to protect his grandparents from afar? Should he hire a live-in caretaker, but if so, who would he begin to trust with all the sentimentally precious items in the house? His grandparents would be crushed if anything was stolen or vandalized.

  The logistics of the problem tumbled through his mind as he pulled into the marina at Pearl Island. The ferry was in port, though it didn’t seem like it was a big day for tourists, despite the beautiful weather. Probably the captain and his first mate were enjoying a coffee at Hilda’s, waiting the requisite half hour for anyone to show up before making the trip back to Sea Haven.

  He thought about Hilda for a moment. She had her own place down the street from the shop. Would she be open to checking in on Pinnacle House, managing the cleaning service and making sure his grandparents were okay? It might not be a bad idea…

  After he tied down the boat, Simon headed up the long pier, whistling. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of Hilda—or someone she recommended—helping out at Pinnacle. She was a good old salt, and fiercely proud of Pearl Island. She wouldn’t let anything come to harm.

  The little main street seemed particularly bustling, and Simon frowned as he recognized three of Belle’s friends from the retirement center, their hands filled with bags as they toddled down the street. Another couple emerged from a painter’s studio, and he recognized them, too—the grown children of his grandparents’ best friends, who lived on Sea Haven Island. In fact, everywhere he looked there were people coming in and out of stores, and the storefronts themselves appeared brighter—fresher, with cheerful sidewalk signs and specials advertised in curly script.

  Some sixth sense warned him that this wasn’t all coincidence. He frowned, picking up his pace toward Hilda’s.

  He was still a good fifteen feet away when someone else he recognized stepped into the bright sun—balancing a heavy load of coffees and an oversized box of what could only be Hilda’s famous doughnuts and muffins.

  “Caroline?” he called, and she wheeled, barely keeping her balance. He reached her in several quick strides and took the enormous tray of coffees from her. It wasn’t heavy, and the coffees were fairly secure in a carton that had apparently been designed for heavy-duty transport. “Why do I get the feeling you’re bringing these up to Pinnacle House for my grandparents?”

  “They were so sweet when they called, I couldn’t say no. And I knew I’d be walking right by here anyway—we’d planned to meet on the island.”

  Simon frowned. “You did.” Suddenly his grandparents’ insistence on his visit today made greater sense, and he couldn’t stop a decided feeling of relief and almost goofy pleasure streaking through him. The Countess Caroline Saleri might be a little whimsical, but she never failed to ma
ke him smile. Without any of the usual pain or struggle that involved.

  She nodded, unaware of his reactions to her as she transported one of the tote bags of muffins to her other hand. “They wanted me to meet them at Pinnacle House—I explained there was no need for the on-island meeting, but they seemed more than happy for a reason to have an excursion.”

  “It looks like they brought half the center with them,” he observed drily. No wonder the ferry was staying in port.

  “They did?” Caroline frowned, glancing around as they passed the last of the stores and made their way alongside the road toward Pinnacle House. She shook her head. “Well, I think there’s only a dozen of them up at the house. They didn’t ask for any more coffee than that.”

  She paused as if something had just occurred to her, then shot him a glance. “How well did your grandparents stay in touch with the people who lodged at their inn—when you all took on guests, that is?”

  He considered the question. “There was a guest book, if that’s what you mean. With names and dates. Sometimes people would write after the fact, saying nice things about their stay. It all took a lot longer back then. It was before things like Yelp and Trip Advisor. Belle and Bobo know about those, but they don’t check them anymore. We haven’t had regular guests for more than five years.”

  But Caroline seemed undeterred. “What about back when your grandparents were in their thirties, maybe right as they were becoming active in the B&B industry, officially taking over from their parents. Would they have saved those guest logs?”

  Simon laughed. “I gave you a dress that’d been hanging in a closet for over twenty years, possibly a lot longer,” he said wryly. “What do you think?”

  She nodded, a smile brightening her face, and he lifted a brow. “May I ask why you’re interested?”

  “I think there’s maybe a story behind that old dress, actually,” she said, a little too obliquely for his tastes. “I thought it would be fun to see if the people who were around back when it made its way to Pinnacle House were still around.” Her eyes widened suddenly. “And those pictures, too! In the front parlor. They could hold a clue, too.”

  Simon accepted that, though he suspected there was more to Caroline’s interest than she was letting on. “Well, I hope that’s not the case,” he said, sudden realization dawning. “If there’s more to that dress than simply being a quick change for a guest, then there will be hell to pay over the fact that I let it go.”

  He expected Caroline to immediately rush in with the promise of the dress’s return, but to his surprise, she didn’t do so. Instead she was peering up at the Pinnacle House as it came into view. “Do you have a golf course too?” she asked.

  Simon focused on the long drive, a good quarter mile off. Sure enough, an electric golf cart was parked there.

  “We don’t,” he said, not keeping the curiosity from his voice. “But there’s a rental place—same place where you got the bikes.” Sudden realization hit him. With the recent storm and the ignominious ride back to the marina several of the more infirm members of Belle’s friends had had to endure, a golf cart was probably a far better solution. And, who knows, one of them could have fallen ill. “Chances are a few of their community weren’t up for the walk today, as gentle as it is.”

  “That makes sense,” Caroline said, and in truth, there were two other golf carts that he could see as they walked closer, parked behind the first.

  Suddenly, Simon caught a movement of white on the porch, someone waving frantically, along with the brightly called, “Hello!” Another figure pivoted, and a second later he heard the clatter of the front door dropping into place.

  Caroline laughed quietly. “If I’d known how eager they were for coffee, I’d have moved more quickly.”

  “Yes,” Simon said, but another frisson of curiosity skated along his nerves. “I don’t think they care so much about the coffee,” he murmured.

  The small man on the porch revealed himself to be Jim Macke, one of his grandparents’ oldest friends. He toddled forward, only stopping at the edge of the steps when Simon shouted out in alarm, hustling with Caroline a little more quickly to keep the man from navigating the stairs.

  “What is it, Jim?” Simon asked, trotting up the steps. “You the lookout for the coffee delivery?”

  “It’s going so much better than we thought it was, and your timing is perfect!” the man fairly crowed, taking Simon by surprise. “If you would, ah, would you mind acting like…well, you two are together, together? If you catch my meaning.” He grinned pulling out a handkerchief to mop his face. “It’d help a great deal.”

  Caroline started in surprise, while Simon could only stare. “Help what?” he asked, as evenly as he could. “What’s going on here?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Simon! Simon—and Caroline too. How wonderful.”

  Caroline blinked several times as the door to Pinnacle House was flung wide. Standing in the hallway were Belle and Bobby Wetherington, fresh and fit in their matching Pinnacle House shirts and khakis. Caroline hadn’t known that Pinnacle House had logo wear.

  In comparison, she and Simon looked like tourists—both of them dressed in summer weight shirts and trousers—Caroline in a gauzy white blouse with linen pants, and Simon in a long tan pants, a blue chambray shirt rolled up at the sleeves. He’d probably left his jacket on the boat, but it was a warm day.

  “Here, dear, let me take those.” A petite, red-haired woman stepped forward in yet another logo’d shirt, and Caroline recognized her instantly from the retirement center…as in the receptionist at the retirement center. Too startled to stop her, Caroline could only watch helplessly as her doughnuts and muffins were whisked away. A slender man she didn’t recognize divested Simon of his coffees, then disappeared behind Belle and Bobby.

  “Belle,” Simon said, his voice low. “What have you done?”

  “The man from the historical society is here! And he’s terribly old fashioned.” Belle spoke hurriedly as she wheeled them both around. “I might have told him you were engaged to Caroline, since you were both coming today and, well, it was convenient.”

  Engaged? Caroline’s eyes flew wide. “But why?” She kept her voice hushed as Belle tugged her to the side, the woman pressing something hard and prickly on one side into her hand. She stared at it, disbelieving. A diamond ring?

  Bobby took up the urgent, quiet explanation. “They needed to believe that Pinnacle House was a going concern—guests, a future, everything. I’m told it won’t matter so much once we get the designation, but to get it…Oh!” He cut himself off brightly. “Here we are.”

  Hastily sliding the ring on her finger—it fit well enough for a quick inspection, though it would be difficult to remove it—Caroline stepped into the kitchen as a man stood from the table, his suit a soft cream and lightweight enough that it was completely appropriate, even at the beach. His crisp white shirt was echoed by the white silk handkerchief tucked in his breast pocket, and beside him on the table sat a straw fedora.

  “This is our grandson, Dr. Simon Blake, current purveyor of Pinnacle House—and Caroline Saleri, whom I’ve already told you about. Simon, this is Mr. David Swain, of the South Carolina Department of Archives and History.” Belle beamed as she made the introductions, and Caroline cast a worried glance at Simon. It was clear his grandparents had taken the matter of the historical house designation into their own hands, but they also clearly needed his participation for it to work.

  The man stepped forward with an easy, almost relieved smile, but before he could speak a commotion sounded at the far end of the kitchen. The French doors opened to accept two very wind-blown senior citizens, their smiles broad on their sun-chapped faces.

  “Oh! Goodness, we do apologize for the intrusion,” the woman said, as the man next to her held up a bag of shells by way of explanation. “Mrs. Wetherington, you were absolutely right about the shelling down on the beach. It’s better than I’ve seen on the last several excursi
ons we’ve taken.”

  “I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” Belle said magnanimously. “If you have time, I can’t recommend the town center enough today. They’re having one of their frequent impromptu fairs. It should be fun.”

  “Oh, thank you. That sounds lovely.” The couple, who seemed like they’d been married since they were born, as in-sync as their movements were, bustled out of the kitchen and down the hallway—toward the stairs to the guestrooms, Caroline realized.

  Simon instantly filled the gap in conversation. “Good to meet you, Mr. Swain,” he said briskly, reaching out to clasp the older man’s hand. “I trust my grandparents have been introducing you thoroughly to Pinnacle House?”

  “They have, yes,” Swain said. “I confess, I didn’t have high hopes when I received the application, as much as we’re always in search of new locations to boost tourism to our fair state. My initial research didn’t yield much in the way of reviews—up until this summer, of course. There was quite a sizable gap.”

  “This summer,” Simon said gravely, and Bobby jumped in.

  “Well, our grandson is a professor, you see, was off a lot on sabbatical. Teaches at the College of Charleston, if you didn’t know. Very well regarded, we’re quite proud of him.”

  Swain’s brows lifted, and Caroline hid a smile. Simon’s grandparents were pulling every local connection they could. That didn’t explain her presence, of course, but—nevertheless.

  “The College of Charleston. Wonderful institution,” Swain said, his voice rich with approval. “But now you’ll be back for a piece, I take it?”

  Simon looked like he might say something, then he paused. “We’re very pleased with the recent interest in Pinnacle House,” he said. “I assume you’ve seen the museum?”

  “It was the highlight of the tour,” Swain said graciously. “And I understand your fiancée has an additional donation to make today, which makes me very lucky indeed.” He turned keen eyes on Caroline, his gaze dropping to her left hand than up again, with an approving little nod. She found herself drawing nearer to Simon, who to her surprise put a casual arm around her shoulder.