“Caroline’s certainly brought a sparkle to Pinnacle House.” He gestured to her. “If you don’t mind an audience, ah, honey—we could show Mr. Swain the pieces now?”
She stared at him for half a second. Did he know the truth of what she needed to do? Had he guessed? Desperately, she cast about for a way to maneuver the circumstances to her advantage.
“Of course,” she said smoothly. “Though our family’s first donation has been on display for these past eighty years, we thought it was beyond time that we provided a fresh set of jewels for the Pinnacle House’s guests—an even exchange, if you will.”
She didn’t miss Belle’s rapid blinking or Simon’s suddenly sharper stare. She’d not used the word “exchange” once in speaking with the Wetheringtons. But Swain was nodding happily, as if this was all perfectly natural.
Before anyone could raise an objection, Caroline reached into her pocket and pulled out the small package that held Edeena’s contribution. The light flowed into the kitchen perfectly, and she knew before she withdrew the large, flat box that the presentation of the jewels would be exquisite. She laid the box on the table and smiled at Belle. “If you’d like to do the honors, ah, Belle?” she asked.
Belle’s initial confusion was immediately replaced with delight at Caroline’s words, and she stepped forward quickly, Bobby right on her heels. Simon and Caroline drew away to allow Swain to lean forward as well, and once again Caroline felt the comforting touch of Simon’s hand on her shoulder…only she didn’t know if he was doing it to support her, or to make sure she didn’t make a dash for the original Saleri jewels.
Belle opened the box with a flourish, and gasped.
“Very nice,” Swain said immediately, his bird-like features twitching with interest.
“These sapphires have a story all their own, of course,” Caroline said, determinedly not looking at Simon. She hadn’t expected to truck out more of her ancestor’s foibles in his presence. He already thought the branches of her family tree were hung with crazyfruit. “Gifts from the royal first family of Garronia, the Andrises, dating back to the mid seventeenth century. The deep purple color and the fact that they were gifted by the Queen at the time was, if you believe the old stories, intended to serve as a reminder to all and sundry that the Saleris were royal in their own right, even if they weren’t the rulers of the country. The Saleris had been laboring under the ignominy of not being considered the first family of the country, you see, a tension that extended from almost three hundred years earlier.”
“Truly,” Swain said, clearly impressed. “And were the jewels successful in achieving their goal of mollification?”
“Not at all, I regret to say,” Caroline laughed. “The Saleris have a way of thwarting the most generous of gifts. But we’re happy to share them with the guests of Pinnacle House now.” She took the opportunity to tuck her arm into Simon’s. Having him as an imaginary fiancé and Pinnacle House as her imaginary home was far easier for her to get used to than she wanted to admit. “I do so hope they are a popular addition—well, replacement—for the original jewels.”
“They outshine them by a fair margin,” Swain announced happily. A flutter of color drew their attention outside, and Caroline gaped to see a young man and woman playing Frisbee. Where on earth had Simon’s grandparents found so many people on short notice?
“Can we interest you in coffee or muffin?” Belle asked, gesturing to the plates and cups on the counter. “We like to bring them up from the local coffee shop to introduce our visitors to Hilda’s excellent confections.”
“Good neighbors make good friends,” Swain nodded appreciatively. “But no, I’ll leave you to your guests. You’ll receive another visit that’s really more of a formality, and then we’ll have all we need to consider the application.” His gaze swung to Simon. “May I call on you directly, Dr. Blake, if I have additional questions?”
“Of course,” Simon said smoothly, already envisioning what those questions would entail. If provable business activity was a part of the application process, there was no way Pinnacle House was going to be accepted, no matter how deft his grandparents’ sleight of hand. And he had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that they’d pulled off the illusion of activity at the house quite admirably. It helped that it was a Wednesday, of course, and most tourists would be expected on the weekend, not a weekday.
“Excellent, excellent,” Swain said. “These are the necessary documents for the next step, but I must say, I am most charmed by your establishment. And we have nothing this far out on the barrier islands that’s a recent addition, so while I can’t make any promises, I would say your application stands a very good chance of approval. In fact…” he leaned closer, almost conspiratorially. “If you happen to have a get-together coming up sometime soon, I can work to get the second informal visit scheduled during it. Always nice to see establishments at their very best, and tends to fast track the approval process.”
“Good to know—” Simon began but his grandmother immediately broke in.
“Oh! We couldn’t be more delighted. We do have a gathering scheduled for a week from Thursday, would that be too soon?”
Swain lifted his brows high, his bird-like eyes bright and inquisitive. “A week from Thursday? Do you have a flyer?”
“Well, it’s a bit more fluid than that, actually,” Belle soldiered on. “We’re revamping our Facebook page now and will roll it out digitally, but so many of the Pearl and Sea Haven Island residents know us that we know we’ll be filled to bursting. We plan to use it for promotion, so we’re expecting it to be a truly dramatic event. Caroline here has even asked some of her friends from the kingdom of Garronia! Which would be lovely. She’s a countess, I might have mentioned. Of Garronia.”
“Garronia!” Swain swiveled his gaze toward Caroline. To her credit, she kept up a brave face, waving off his attention modestly.
“I can’t make any guarantees, of course,” she said demurely. “But I’m hopeful for a few guests.”
Simon tried to process what Swain said next, but he found his gaze was riveted on Caroline’s left hand. A diamond glittered there, and though intellectually he understood it was Belle’s engagement band, apparently passed between the two women to continue the illusion that she was his fiancée, he couldn’t help the surge of absolute primal outrage at the idea of someone else—anyone else—claiming this woman for his own. It made absolutely no sense, of course. He had no right to feel this way.
And yet…
Then Swain was gathering up his bag and his hat, and Belle and Bobo were walking him back through the house, answering his questions about this knick-knack or that painting. In a matter of moments, they were out of earshot, leaving him alone with Caroline.
They stared at each other across the bright and cheery space, then Caroline’s gaze shifted to the insulated cups of coffee. “I think we deserve those,” she said.
He burst into a short laugh, quickly suppressing it with a cough in case Swain was anywhere close. “And doughnuts,” he said. “Definitely doughnuts.”
They’d unpacked most of Hilda’s bounty by the time the front door slammed shut, but his grandparents didn’t appear right away.
Caroline noticed it too. “They’re probably afraid of what you’re going to say,” she said, biting into a chocolate pastry. She paused to savor it, her expression of pure pleasure causing Simon to take a sharp swig of the still-hot coffee.
“They should be afraid. But at least we got to choose the best of the doughnuts.” He picked up his second, shaking his head. Normally he didn’t eat doughnuts, but anything to support the local industry. He gestured to the porch, where the tables had been outfitted with cheerful umbrellas that appeared suspiciously new. He had a feeling he also wasn’t going to be happy when he did the books this month. “Care to join me outside? They’ll screw up the courage eventually.”
It took his grandparents a full twenty minutes to appear, however, and when they did they had reinforcements.
Half the Sea Haven Coastal Retirement Center trooped out with them, including the two younger people who’d greeted them at the door. Simon assumed they worked at the place, and had been hired to serve as staff for the subterfuge. Now they took coffee and doughnuts and went to the far edge of the porch where the built-in seats looked out over the dunes.
The others all gathered around.
“Simon, you were outstanding!” Belle said warmly, leaning down to give him a kiss. If she was abashed at all she didn’t show it. Caroline handed over her ring, and Belle accepted it with a smile. “And I’m so sorry to put you on the spot, dear. It’s one thing to drag my poor grandson into the exploits of a couple of old romantics, but you barely know us.”
“I was happy to help,” Caroline said, and the words sounded authentic. “But I have to say, other than possibly my sister, I’m not sure who else from Garronia I could get to come on such short notice. I could see if our ambassador is in the States, but if he is—”
“If he is, I expect he would be quite busy,” Belle finished for her. “Don’t worry a moment about that, it’s easily explained away.”
Simon expected Belle to speak about Caroline’s donation—and in particular, the notion that the original Contos Collection—or Saleri collection, more accurately stated—would be taking its leave of Pinnacle House. Perhaps more than any other artifact, those pink stones had spawned a lifetime of tales and speculation between his grandparents and their friends. And now Belle and Bobo were happily going to give them up?
What possible need could Caroline have for them, for that matter?
“What is it, Simon?” Bobo’s quavering voice broke across his concentration, and Simon shook his head, then refocused on the bright-eyed group around him.
“I was wondering,” he said smoothly. “Where did you get all these people? Exactly how long have you been planning this?”
“Well, the shirts we ordered—when was that dear, June?” Belle said, gazing at Bobo with the soft affection that he’d never seen waver from her face. So unlike his own parents, though his mother had been Belle’s own daughter.
“June, yes,” Bobo agreed. Simon narrowed his gaze on his grandfather. His color seemed unusually high. Then again, the morning’s activities were arguably some of the most adventurous his grandfather had attempted in recent memories. “And the supplies for the house—the umbrellas, cushions, sports equipment—that was all stuff we needed to update anyway.”
Simon looked down, scooting sideways on his seat. “You ordered new cushions?” he asked. He couldn’t tell any difference from the old ones.
“We had no way of knowing when a call would come through from the state historic preservation office, though we did have an inside man for that.” Belle beamed. “He has access to the calendar, and saw the visit planned to the islands. It was a gamble, but we figured it was most likely our surprise visit.”
“An inside…” Simon had to work to keep his jaw from dropping. “You can’t be serious.”
“And it all went so well!” Belle gestured to the tables full of grinning friends. “Now we simply have to prepare for the party next week. What fun that will be! Caroline, say you’ll come with whatever guests you can drum up—but mostly, please say you’ll be here. It simply wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Everyone responded with enthusiasm, but something felt off with the group, an energy Simon couldn’t quite identify.
Then he slid a glance to Caroline, and stilled.
The expression on her face was one he’d never seen before. Sitting here in the midst of chattering, planning octogenarians, right on the edge of their crazy conversations, she seemed almost bewildered, like a young girl standing on the outside of the party, unsure of whether she should take part or be on her way. It was a look that made his own heart lurch, and he found himself reaching for her hand.
“Yes, please, you must join us for the party,” he said, with an intense surge of emotion he didn’t have to feign. “We can talk about it over dinner tonight, if you’ll do me the honor?”
Chapter Seventeen
It was ridiculous to feel so awkward, Caroline told herself for the thirty-millionth time. She wasn’t seventeen years old, about to go out on her first real date. She was twenty-six, and she knew the man. She’d made love with the man for heaven’s sake! What was her problem?
“Dear, I truly have no problem waiting in the back parlor,” Prudence said gently, making Caroline start.
“No!” she said quickly. “No, that’s quite all right. Unless you would prefer to leave, of course. If you do—well, that’s also quite all right.”
“Of course I’ll stay then,” Prudence said. Her worried gaze dropped ever so subtly and Caroline glanced down as well.
“Oh.” She slowly released the crocheted throw from her hands, smoothing out its abused surface. She’d nearly shredded it. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
“He checks out, if that helps,” Cindy Marx said. The bodyguard leaned casually against the doorframe, serving as part lookout and part backup, should Caroline need it.
Caroline glanced up, surprised. “You didn’t need to do that,” she said, feeling yet more foolish. “He’s a college professor.”
“That doesn’t mean he isn’t a scumbag,” Cindy said easily, flashing a quick smile. “But he seems to be exactly what he says he is. Lauded professor, popular speaker, grumpy recluse whenever he can be. Travels for several months every few years on his research junkets, teaches and takes care of his grandparents’ B&B when he’s here.” She narrowed her eyes as a car drove up the long lane. “Speaking of being here…” she sent Caroline another look. “If you’re solid, I’ll head to the back so he doesn’t feel like he’s walking into a board meeting.”
Caroline nodded gratefully, her heart in her throat. “Thanks. I’ll—I’ll call later, or text, if I need you.”
“Text even if you don’t.” Cindy pointed to her phone. “I’ve got you lo-jacked, so as long as that’s on you I can find you, but I’d rather know you’re okay.” She lifted her hand when Caroline frowned. “Just doing my job.”
“Of course,” Caroline said faintly. At least Marguerite wasn’t here to hover. She’d returned to the Cypress Resort, now working in the front office more than mingling with the guests, but tonight was a grander party than most and it was all hands on deck.
Cindy faded back from the doorway as the sounds of a light tread jogging up the stairs reached their ears. Caroline glanced at Prudence, surprised to see her beaming. “What?” she asked, her voice low.
“It’s all so exciting,” the older woman murmured back, her own hands now clasped tightly on her lap. “You and your sisters are certainly not boring.”
The chime sounded and Caroline bounced up. They’d discussed at interminable length who should answer the door, but in the end it seemed the least ridiculous for it simply to be her. The housekeeper had already left for the day, and Prudence wasn’t her mother—or her servant. Caroline also wasn’t seventeen, no matter how silly she felt.
Simon stood in the center of the porch as she opened the large, gracious door, and her heart gave another flip. He truly was the most intriguing-looking man, all dark eyes, tanned skin, rakish hair and high cheekbones, and tonight he was wearing a suit she figured he’d had to have recently dry cleaned—it wasn’t as beat up as most of the ones he wore, and it appeared pressed. A soft smile came naturally to her lips and suddenly—everything felt right again.
“Simon,” she said. “Please, do come in for a moment. I’d like you to meet my cousin Prudence.”
“Of course.” Simon stepped into the large foyer of Heron’s Point, looking around appreciatively at the faded wallpaper and white trim, the long hardwood floor sweeping toward the back parlors. “What a beautiful home.”
“Thank you, we’re quite proud of it.”
“None more so than me,” Prudence said, sweeping into the hallway with her usual brisk grace. “Dr. Blake?” she asked, exte
nding an elegant hand. “Prudence Vaughn.”
Simon visibly started, then took Prudence’s hand with both of his, the gesture almost courtly as he stared at her a little too intently. “Forgive me, ma’am, but have we met?”
“Not at all, I would have remembered that,” Prudence said. “But you run an inn, Dr. Blake, for all that it’s not a very active one any more. I expect you’ve seen more old women than you can shake a stick at over the years.” Her broad smile seemed to snap Simon out of his surprise, and he barked out a startled laugh.
“You’re many things, I suspect, but old is not one of them.” He turned from a now thoroughly delighted Prudence and nodded to Caroline. “Are you ready?”
Bidding Prudence goodbye, they stepped out into the warm evening. “The estate here is gorgeous,” Simon said admiringly. “I’ve lived in this area most of my life and never knew this was back here.” He reached for her hand as they moved down the steps, and Caroline slipped her fingers into his, a zing of pleasure stirring along her skin at his touch.
“We’re actually hoping to get it sold, if we can. But Prudence has been quietly trying that for years, too. It’s a little too far from Charleston and a little too big for today’s families.” She sighed, looking around. “It feels like someone should live here though, doesn’t it? Someone should call it home.”
“Houses were made for living in,” he said mildly, and he opened the door of his SUV for her. She slid into the vehicle. It was more refined than she would have expected for Simon, though she didn’t know why. Not too flashy, but elegant in an understated way—which was saying something for an SUV.
“Okay,” he said as he got behind the wheel. “I have two options for you, because I simply couldn’t decide. A restaurant I frequent so much in the city that they know my name—and it’s right on the harbor, absolutely beautiful setting—or…” He tapped his fingers almost nervously on the steering wheel, and she regarded him in surprise. She’d never seen him hesitant before. “Or, dinner at Pinnacle House.”
Charmed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 6 Page 15
