Charmed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 6

by Jennifer Chance

  Now he focused on Simon, and thumped his cane. “We need to talk,” he said heavily.

  Simon raised a brow. The thumping cane business was new, but he suspected by the delighted expression on Bobo’s face at the satisfying sound, they’d be treated to it more than a few times over the coming weeks. Still, he had no problem indulging the man. He hadn’t seen his grandfather so excited in years.

  He sat down and pulled a muffin off the top of the pile, then laid a large bell glass over the platter. Bobo set the cane aside and took the pastry, but he wasn’t deterred. “You need to be happy with your life, Simon. Need it. Like air and food.”

  Simon blinked. He’d expected orders on how to conduct himself with the historical office rep, not this. “I am happy,” he said cautiously.

  Bobo pounced on his words. “Are you? I don’t think so.” He gestured at the house. “At first I thought it was the house—hard to come out here and look after your grandparents, entertain their friends.”

  Simon frowned. “That’s not at all true,” he said severely. “I enjoy every minute I spend out here.”

  Bobo waved him off. “And then I thought it was your wanderlust that was making you sad. The need to be off, traveling around the world, researching your books and lectures. But you always come back more tired than when you leave.”

  “That’s what they call jet lag,” Simon observed, but something in Bobo’s fierce intensity made him say the words more quietly than he would have ordinarily. He didn’t want to over-excite his grandfather…better to let Bobo say his piece and extract himself as gracefully as he could from the conversation.

  “Jet lag.” The words were derisive, and Bobo shook his head. “You’re not the first man to ever think travel and work was the most important thing in the world, boy. I didn’t sprout on this island fully formed. I came here. Before that, I’d already driven all over the United States and had a tour overseas as well. I was a college student when I met your grandmother, and I planned to stay in South Carolina only as long as I needed to graduate.”

  Simon had heard this story many times before, but there was a new edge to Bobo’s voice. “And you fell in love,” he said, when his grandfather fell silent. “With Belle, and with this house, and the life you two might have here. You got married, and you never looked back.”

  “All that happened, yes. But that’s not the important part.” Bobo was gazing out over the dunes again, his face easing into the softer lines of memory. “I fell in love with your grandmother because I let myself fall. I let myself believe that it could happen, that it should happen. That this tiny little speck of an island in the middle of the great big world was exactly the right place for me to put down roots, to dig into the sand and sea and help make something grow. Even though it was all here before me, and it’d be here after me. I could have been one of a hundred thousand tourists tramping through, no more permanent than a footprint on the beach. Instead, I let myself listen to my heart. I let myself loosen my hold on my plans. I let myself look with more than my eyes for once, and see what true happiness could be.”

  He reached over and patted Simon on the knee. “And I think you owe it to yourself to do the same.”

  Simon nodded, trying to keep his expression neutral. His grandfather wasn’t given to dispensing advice, and this seemed very important to him…but Simon couldn’t for the life of him understand where Bobo wanted him to go with this information. Caroline and he seemed to be on two different paths, and he needed to come to terms with that…no matter how eager he was to see her today. He’d respected her unwillingness to talk with him, and had given her space.

  Strangely enough, the forced absence from her had made her a constant companion in his thoughts, however. He’d gone over everything in his mind a thousand times, wondering how he could have done things differently, but…

  He put thoughts of Caroline out of his mind. “It’s good advice,” he finally said, and it seemed to be the right thing. Bobo grinned at him and held up his muffin, and Simon took that as his cue to depart. He left the old man out on the porch and retreated to the kitchen, but he found his gaze continuing to go back to his grandfather as he completed his tasks at the counter. He’d never imagined Bobo as an adventurer…he’d always simply been his grandfather. But even grandfathers were young once, he supposed. He bent himself back to his task, his mind turning Bobo’s words over and over again.

  “Caroline! Welcome. And Prudence, you’re looking absol—oh! How did you…Never mind, it’s such a lovely dress. Let me fetch Bobo.”

  At the sound of Belle’s excited voice in the receiving room, Simon looked up from the platter of sandwiches he was cutting. A strange, absurd thrill—half relieved, half dismayed—spiked through him, at the thought that Caroline was once again at the Pinnacle House. She was here.

  He laid down the knife as Belle sailed into the kitchen, and her eyes lit up when she saw him. “Oh! There you are. I thought we’d take a moment to show Caroline the new museum display, and I’m afraid if the historical office person shows up, we’ll get distracted and I’ll forget. Could you get Bobo?

  “Of course.” Simon tossed his towel on the counter and stepped back onto the porch, his grandfather turning around at the sound of his footsteps.

  Bobo’s entire face was lit with excitement. “Is she here?”

  “Yes, she is,” Simon said, and he laughed as Bobo clapped his hands together. “What is it you have waiting for her in there?” he asked, suddenly on to the old man. Simon had been working so hard on making sure everything else was ready in the house—including preparing the rooms for the Pinnacle Houses first overnight guests outside of family in over five years—that he hadn’t taken the time to check over the Island Royalty exhibit. That little museum had always been the province of his grandparents anyway, but had there been more activity in the back of the house than usual?

  “Don’t you worry anything about that,” Bobo said firmly. “Help an old man up, though, will you? It’ll be tomorrow before I get in there, otherwise.”

  Simon reached for his grandfather and lifted the man into standing position, startled once again at his unexpected frailty. Despite that, Bobo grasped his cane and gave it a good thump, then swung into his halting gait toward the door, with Simon walking alongside him, ready to put forth a steadying hand if and when needed. They’d almost made it through the kitchen when Belle’s voice sounded again.

  “Well, what a fantastic surprise,” she said warmly. “We’d so hoped you’d be able to visit us one day soon, and you couldn’t have picked a better day.”

  Bobo and Simon exchanged a startled glance, which morphed almost immediately into one of sheer conspiratorial pleasure on his grandfather’s side.

  “Hello, hello!” he fairly shouted, bustling into the corridor, moving far more quickly than Simon thought he could. He emerged into the receiving hall a moment later, and the scene was almost the perfect tableau.

  Genuine guests stood in clusters, some of them looking on with patent interest. A young woman in a South Carolina Department of Archives and History sweater seat and neatly pressed khakis had pivoted in front of Belle’s desk, her smile wide and approving. And beyond them all, in the corridor leading to the museum area—was Caroline.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Caroline stepped back quickly as Simon’s grandfather swung her way, wielding his cane like a sword. “You’re just in time, in fact, for a very special unveiling. If you don’t mind humoring us?” He winked at Caroline as if she was in on the joke, and she blinked rapidly, allowing him to pass her before she turned startled eyes to Simon.

  He looked as confused as she did, though she still received a visceral jolt when their gazes met. Internally she sighed. She’d hoped she wouldn’t be affected by him, but it seemed like that was perhaps a bit too much to ask at this point.

  She glanced beyond him, gratified to see that Prudence and Marguerite also seemed surprised, caught behind the sudden wave of senior citizens that seemed
to pour into the room and along the hallway to the museum. Had they planned this according to some pre-set schedule? She didn’t think the state employee was part of that plan if so, yet Mr. Wetherington charged full speed ahead, leading the tide of his white-haired friends into the museum.

  Simon strode up next to her, and she fell into step with him, wishing irrationally that he would put his hand on her arm, her shoulder, the small of her back. She didn’t need him, she reminded herself stiffly, and she squared her shoulders as they stopped into the Pinnacle House’s museum room.

  A pathway had been cleared to the center of the room, where the display case of Saleri jewels were housed. Despite herself, Caroline lifted her hand to her mouth in surprise, her heart doing a strange little flip in her chest. The original pedestal had been changed out for a larger one made of stone, carved to resemble a spout of water that seemed to be rising from the sea. Atop this base sat the Saleri purple sapphire collection, lit up with so many tiny lights that it might as well have been the Hope Diamond. A smaller, secondary collection of jewels, clearly in a temporary position, were at the base of the stand, and Caroline relaxed in relief at seeing them featured the way they were. Together they worked as a display, but once the smaller set of jewelry was removed, the new set would dominate the stand as if it had always been the sole focus of the exhibit.

  “The Pinnacle House museum has long been proud to feature the jewelry of the Contos family as part of our humble artifacts. We’ve called that set the Contos Collection, and it has graced our family display since the late-1930s.”

  Mr. Wetherington waved to the smaller set of pink stones, and the crowd of seniors murmured in appreciation, though Caroline knew they must have seen these jewels sitting in the museum hundreds of times. She snuck a quick glance at the woman from the state office, however, and was relieved to see that she was watching attentively, clearly impressed by the age and perhaps the beauty of the jewels.

  “Today we’re extremely proud to have with us the Countess Caroline Saleri of Garronia, along with her sister, the Countess Marguerite, with a brand new donation from Garronia.” He bowed first toward Caroline, and then to the wide-eyed Marguerite, who was clearly surprised to be a subject of any attention.

  The murmur of appreciation grew louder, and Caroline was grateful as Simon shifted slightly closer to her, although of course she had nothing to fear in this group. She’d started to recognize some of them, and she noted with interest that standing near Marguerite and Prudence was none other than Jack Graham. Apparently, there’d been a run on fancy canes on Sea Haven, because his was a sight to behold.

  “Also, while we’re making introductions, I’d like to welcome Maribeth Andrews from the South Carolina Department of Archives and History, State Historical Preservation Office. The office has been gracious enough to consider Pinnacle House as a historical site, and regardless of what happens with that process, we could not be happier to have you with us as we receive our newest donation to our Island Royalty collection. The work that your office does to celebrate and promote the beauty of South Carolina is a boon to us all. Thank you.”

  He gave Miss Andrews a solicitous nod, and the group immediately broke into to earnest applause. For her part, Maribeth Andrews seemed every bit as startled as Caroline felt, but as she watched the woman glanced surreptitiously toward Marguerite, her eyes widening slightly. Caroline bit back a smile. She always forgot the power of a title here in the States, but clearly, Mr. Wetherington had not.

  The old man drew in an officious breath. “First, Countess Caroline is going to share with us the story of her donation, and a fascinating story it is.” He gestured broadly at Caroline, and it was only with the greatest of self-control that she didn’t stare open-mouthed at him. The…story?

  Her gaze shot to Marguerite, who gave her a little “what are you going to do?” shrug, and then to Simon. His gaze conveyed a million apologies, but there was nothing for it. This was a group who loved their stories, and if she did this correctly, she would have them telling and retelling this tale to their own grandchildren.

  Caroline gave Mr. Wetherington a broad smile, then took a step forward, instantly missing Simon’s comforting presence by her side.

  “The jewels we’ve donated to the museum today date almost to the same time as those in the original jewels on display here, for more than a hundred years,” she began, and around her the crowd had gone completely quiet. “They are part of a larger legend within the Saleri family, one that has stretched back to the Middle Ages.” She smiled. “As all the good legends do.”

  An appreciative chuckle filled the room, and Caroline soldiered on. “You see, the Saleri family has always been exceptionally proud, and with that pride came the belief that they would and should be considered the most royal family in the land. However, when Garronia was transformed from a collection of noble holdings into a nation with a single ruler, it was not the Saleri family in that vaunted position, but the Andrises.”

  “Andrises,” more than one of the listeners whispered, as if committing the name to memory.

  Caroline nodded. “I’m afraid my family never quite got over the slight, but the royal family was above all else, filled with grace. They gifted these beautiful purple sapphires to my ancestors as a nod to our line’s royal standing in spirit, for all that we did not run the country.” She grimaced, then abbreviated the story for the sake of not having her entire history show up in the pages of one of Simon’s books. “Over the many centuries, we held on to those jewels, against that time when a Saleri child would marry into nobility. But now, the oldest daughter of this generation, Edeena, has found a prince of a very different type to marry, and she wished that such jewels fit for a princess were enjoyed in a new storybook setting. When I told her about Pinnacle House and all it had to offer—the beautiful, pristine beach, the charming island, the bright fairytale village in the middle of an enchanted wood—she agreed that if ever there were a perfect location for a princess’s jewels, it would be here.”

  Caroline finished the story, a little breathless for all the embroidery she’d managed to weave into the facts, and darted a quick glance around. Apparently, she needn’t have worried. More than one of the elderly women had her hands clasped up to her chin, and at least a half-dozen couples were holding each other’s hands tightly.

  A full ten seconds seemed to pass, then Mr. Wetherington roused himself. “That is an absolutely marvelous story,” he announced. “And we will be honored here at Pinnacle House to share it with our guests for many years to come.”

  He straightened to his fullest height, almost brimming with excitement. “And now we will share the story of the exquisite Contos Collection, which now will be returning home after so many years in our care.”

  Caroline stepped back reflexively, trying to curb her own curiosity, until she could sense the presence of Simon once more beside her. She had no idea of the exact story that had been shared with the Pinnacle House more than a hundred years ago. Edeena had said nothing about it.

  “It all began—oh!” Mr. Wetherington’s gaze darted to the back of the room. “Please, please, make room for our additional guests. Welcome, welcome all! We’re happy to have you join us.”

  The voice that rolled out over the group was immaculately regal, however, and Caroline went stiff with shock from its very first syllable.

  “And I am most gratified to be here in time for your wonderful tale,” spoke Queen Catherine Andris of Garronia, in her flawless English. “Please continue.”

  Simon peered over Caroline’s head at the woman and her entourage who’d just entered, wondering how he knew her. She was surrounded by a small coterie of men and women who looked like they meant business, but the woman herself was relaxed and easy, perhaps fifty years old, her dark hair styled into a sophisticated knot at the nape of her neck, her olive skin the perfect match to her bright, intelligent eyes. She wore a simple day dress with a scarf draped over it, but she carried herself with a distinctly re
gal air. One of Caroline’s relatives, able to attend the party after all?

  If so, her timing couldn’t have been better.

  Bobo seemed to think so as well. He puffed himself up to his full height and breadth, and grinned with absolute delight.

  “I know the story only second hand, though I’ve been telling it so long that it feels like it’s my story, too. But I met my bride in 1950, when she was already well-versed in all the magical tales of Pinnacle House. This story is one that she should tell, because it happened to her.”

  Simon smiled, the cadence of Bobo’s tale already weaving its magic around the assembled group, though most of them had heard it many times before. But Belle, with her usual flair, stepped forward to the stand and pivoted, sweeping the whole crowd with her gaze.

  “I was barely nine years old when the woman arrived at Pinnacle House, blowing in like the summer breeze. She was tall and straight, and quite possibly the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. Her hair was dark and thick, her eyes enormous and deep violet, her skin different from ours—like nothing I’d ever seen. My father told me later she was from Europe, a country near Greece, but that morning she seemed like she could have stepped off a fairytale ship. She came to my father with a gift of jewelry, having heard of his troubles drawing paying guests to Pinnacle House—and my father’s unique solution: This Museum.”

  She paused, deepening her tone slightly. “Understand, this was in the late 1930s, and the whispers of war were all around us. Worse, the country had gone through a devastating depression for as long as I could remember. For us, hidden away on our little island, a boat trip away from everything, including school, we felt lucky but also forgotten, and as my father would always tell us, you can’t survive if you’re forgotten. If you want to truly find happiness, you’ve got to commit, to stand for something. And at Pinnacle House, we decided to stand for all that was beautiful about our little patch of the world, the islands and the sea that we’d come to know so well.”