The Lady and the Wish

by J. M. Stengl

“I think it was when you held me tonight,” I answered. “I didn’t know it then, but I know now. I love you. I mean, I’m in love with you.” There. I’d said it.

  “Wait . . . What you recognized is that you love me?” Now he sounded incredulous.

  “Yes. I’ve thought I was in love before, but now I know that was all imagination. I never really knew any of those boys anyway. You drove me crazy at first, and I thought I hated you. But then you were kind and helped me out a few times, and we sort of became friends, and your opinion really started to matter. At Christmas, I—”

  “Gillian, stop. Please.” His voice sounded tight.

  “What? Oh.” Realization dawned. My heart dropped to my feet. “You don’t love me back, do you?”

  “This isn’t a topic we should discuss over the phone, especially now. I’m driving, and you just went through a traumatic experience.”

  My eyes felt as if they were burning. “You don’t love me,” I croaked through the tightness in my throat.

  “Gillian, that’s not . . . I . . . I can’t put my trust in a woman who uses people like . . . like rungs of a ladder to reach her social goals. Maybe you’ve changed, but it could be just a phase. Do you really know yourself well enough to know what you want? Right now you think you love me, but what will happen once you’re back in your own world?”

  I couldn’t speak. I tried to breathe, but it sounded like a moan.

  “Gillian?”

  I hung up.

  The pain was worse than anything I’d ever felt. Far worse. I thought I might die of it.

  For once in my life, I’d found a man worth loving. And he didn’t love me.

  Lady Beneventi pulled down the sunshade and admired her reflection in the mirror. I couldn’t help smiling at her delight. “Pink is a good color on you.”

  “I should have thought of this months ago!” She patted the shining waves of her hot-pink hair into shape. “So much easier than hair dye.”

  “We should be at Faraway Castle before sundown,” I assured her, “so you’ll get to show it off.”

  Maria grumbled in the backseat, but Lady B ignored her.

  The Trefontane family had not only agreed to send Lady Beneventi to the resort, they had also been able to reserve her favorite suite, which included private rooms for me and Maria. I felt smug for being right about that. The first week of each season was often a bit rough, since new staff members were just learning their jobs, but it was also the quietest week of the year—ideal for our needs.

  The drive from the villa in Vetricia to Faraway Castle in the mountains of Adelboden was only seven hours, and by noon we were nearly halfway there. Since Lady B had already used her wish for the day, I dared to stop for lunch at a little café, and then we were back on our way. Maria spoke scarcely a word during the entire trip, though she didn’t seem to be motion sick. That woman worried me sometimes. What if she was the magical being who was granting Lady Beneventi’s wishes? Did fairies come in large sizes?

  Traffic backed up whenever we passed through cities, especially the very last one, which was known mostly for its casinos. Guests at Faraway Castle often drove down to test their luck over the weekends—my father among them.

  Lady Beneventi enthused over the town as we lurched through stop-and-go traffic. “I loved this place when I was a girl. My gentleman friends always told me I gave them great luck, and we drove down here every weekend.”

  I couldn’t help grimacing. “Some friends took me there when I turned eighteen, and I lost all my spending money. I’ve never been back.”

  I should have kept that information to myself—her good mood soured. “Arturo disliked gambling, so I gave it up once we married. He was kind, handsome, and charming but pretty much a fuddy-duddy.”

  After another moment she turned to me in a brighter mood. “Did I ever tell you about his beard? He grew it for me, you know, and always looked so distinguished. My father always wore a thick beard, and now my sons and grandsons all do. I was delighted when beards came back in style!”

  “I’ve seen Arturo’s beard, and I believe I’ve met one of your grandsons.” I tried to smile. Bird-nest Beard was a sore subject these days. Even the thought of one of my more egregious ladder-rung incidents heaped guilt on my head and heart.

  And ladder rungs led to thoughts of Manny. I’d had some hope, not unmixed with dread, that he might return to Torre Santa Lucia at least once, since he’d said we couldn’t talk about our relationship over the telephone. Didn’t that imply we should talk in person?

  But he hadn’t contacted me. At all. Lord Beneventi himself had telephoned to confirm our reservation at Faraway Castle. The visconte was surprisingly friendly and thanked me for caring about his mother enough to risk my safety again. He must take after Arturo, I decided. And he certainly didn’t know how I’d treated his son . . .

  I was doing my best to keep a stiff upper lip, but it wasn’t a flattering look for me.

  As we began to wind up mountain roads again, Lady Beneventi exclaimed over the scenery as though she’d never seen it before. I was too busy keeping the car on the road to appreciate waterfalls, snowy mountain peaks, eagles, or any other natural wonders. This part of the drive seemed to take longer than the rest, and Lady Beneventi talked almost nonstop.

  When we finally drove through the castle gates and followed the instructions of staff members to park in the crowded lot, I had to peel my fingers off the steering wheel. That drive had been more stressful than anticipated. But I did it! We were safely here. Now to get Lady B checked in and ask for help with our magic problem. Maria offered to ride on a cart along with our luggage, so I rode on the guest tram with Lady Beneventi and a few other guests to the castle’s main doors. Everything looked familiar to me . . . yet different.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Gillian,” said the man at the front desk. “I understand you are Lady Beneventi’s companion during this visit.” This same man had sat behind the main desk for as long as I could remember, but I didn’t know his name.

  I checked his name badge. “Yes, Mr. Sten. Lady Beneventi’s maid is escorting our luggage.”

  “We will send it up as soon as it arrives.”

  “Um, I have an important request.” I glanced back to make sure Lady Beneventi was still seated in the waiting area, out of hearing distance. “We need help detecting the source of granted wishes. Lady Beneventi can wish for something every day, and whatever she wishes for lasts until sundown. Today she wished for pink hair.”

  He glanced toward the waiting area. I knew when he spotted her by the twitch of his bushy brows, and he returned a concerned gaze to my face. “I see. I do believe someone in the family mentioned something about a magical mystery that needed clearing up. I will notify our Controller of Magical Creatures, Geoff Bryant, to contact you as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you. I truly appreciate the help. Also, are wheelchairs available for elderly guests? Lady Beneventi refused to bring hers along, but I know she is already tired from the journey.”

  “I will have one delivered. I hope you enjoy your week at Faraway Castle. Chloe will show you to your suite and explain the house rules,” said Sten as he handed over the keys and our magical-emergency bracelets. I turned to see a young girl, maybe thirteen, waiting to escort us.

  Lady B sat by herself in the waiting area, observing the elderly people nearby with haughty scorn. “I hope you’ll find some old friends while we’re here,” I said while we tottered slowly to the elevator.

  “Unlikely. Withered old crones and . . .” She continued muttering while we took the elevator to the top floor and walked the short distance to what had to be one of the royal suites. I was in awe from the moment we entered the room. Okay, so maybe the Trefontane family really was fabulously wealthy. Chloe showed me around and promised to have dinner sent up to our room.

  As soon as the door closed behind her, Lady Beneventi asked, “Where is Arturo? Is he bringing up the luggage?”

  Startled as well as exha
usted, I couldn’t come up with an immediate answer.

  “And where is Giovanna? That girl is the laziest creature on earth, I’m sure. Oh! I’m exhausted from all that swimming today. Run me a bath, girl, and be quick about it.”

  At that providential moment there was a knock at the door—Maria and our luggage had arrived. Two boys carried it inside for us, and I tipped them generously. Maria handled the situation with her usual deadpan efficiency, convincing Lady Beneventi to lie down for a rest while she unpacked.

  After room service brought dinner for three, Lady Beneventi calmed down and returned to the present. Maria insisted on dining in her own room, so over our quiet meal I asked Lady B to tell me stories about Faraway Castle when she was young.

  For the next hour, she chatted happily. “Oh, I was popular and sought-after in those days. There was a prince who flirted with me one summer, but he was betrothed, so neither of us took our little fling seriously.” She chuckled. “I was rather wild back then and broke several hearts, but it was all in fun. The dancing, the music, the parties we had! Many’s the night we sneaked out, drove down to the casinos, and played until our pockets were empty.” She sighed in happy reminiscence.

  “But then Arturo convinced me to marry him.” Her next sigh sounded almost regretful, which was confusing. “He had loved me since we were children playing together here at Faraway Castle, and we were always good friends. He wasn’t part of my fast set, but he loved me and understood me better than anyone. We were incredibly happy together. We came here to Faraway Castle and stayed in this very suite every year for many years. But after he passed away, it was never the same—the service is lacking, everything is lacking. Our sons stopped coming to the resort with their families, and I hardly ever see my grandchildren anymore.”

  I was surprised to hear her talk about Arturo’s death so openly. She seemed more coherent and present than I’d seen her in some time.

  Then she glanced at me with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “That was Lord Carstairs in the lobby today with his son and daughter-in-law and their grown children. He was a charming madcap back in the day, and now he’s fat and mostly deaf.” She shook her head, and the gleam vanished. “My old set are mostly gone now, and the remaining few are old and rickety. Time is unkind to us mortals, child. Enjoy your youth while it lasts.”

  Maria came to take her off to bed shortly afterward, but the old lady squeezed my hand in passing. “I hope tomorrow will be a fun and exciting day, like old times.” Something in her tone, in the glint of her eyes, concerned me. We needed to see that Magical-Creature Controller first thing in the morning.

  I thought about her stories while I prepared for bed. If she had been so popular in her youth and happy in her marriage, why was she now so unkind and contrary most of the time? I wanted to attribute her anger and selfishness to dementia, but too many things didn’t add up. I could only conclude that she described herself the way she wanted to be remembered, not the way she’d really been.

  This train of thought inevitably looped back to my own issues.

  Even if I were to marry a wonderful person like Manny, I would bring all my problems with me into the marriage. I would become exactly like Lady Beneventi, bitter and unloved, unless I learned to be . . . real.

  When I staggered from my bedroom in the morning, Lady Beneventi was unusually lively and cheery. Clad in a bathrobe, she sat in a chair and grinned at me while Maria combed through her damp hair, preparing to style it.

  “Let’s go down to the dining room for breakfast,” she said, smiling. “There are so many things I want to do today. Gillian, I wish I were your age again.”

  My jaw dropped. Maria’s hands froze.

  Seated in the chair and wearing Lady Beneventi’s nightgown, a young woman with a tousled mop of auburn hair looked at her hands and then ran them over her face and body. With a laugh of delighted surprise, she jumped up and ran to the full-length mirror on the wall.

  “I’m gorgeous!” She spun around, hugging herself. “Oh, how fun! This is the best wish ever! Forget my clothes, I’m wearing yours, Gillian.”

  She dashed past me and into my bedroom. I exchanged horrified glances with Maria, who seemed as startled as I was, then hurried after the young old woman. “Lady Beneventi, be careful!” I cautioned her. “You might feel twenty, but your body is really almost eighty-three.”

  “Not right now it isn’t, and I have the entire day to play and enjoy myself! See? I told you I was far more beautiful than you are.” She looked me up and down with one plucked brow raised. “You should cut your hair like mine.”

  Maybe she really was more beautiful—I was hardly an unbiased judge—but I had my doubts. She was an inch or two shorter than me and more the lean, wiry type, but my clothes fit her decently. Her skin was pale and smooth, lightly freckled, with no sags or wrinkles. Her small teeth were white, not yellowed, and her lips were full and firm. To be honest, the only feature I recognized was her sardonic grin. Clad in my yellow sundress and the designer sandals she had once mocked, she appropriated my makeup and curling wand.

  “Lady Beneventi,” I began, but she cut me off.

  “Call me Catriona, darling. We’ll be great friends today.” She gave me a quick scan. “You’re a mess. Put on something fun so we’ll be a matched set of redheads!”

  What choice did I have? The girl was a force of nature! While I showered and donned a stretchy aqua sundress, she gave herself a mani-pedi with my polish, which she spilled on the bathroom counter and wiped up with one of my shirts. I thought I might choke when I discovered the mess, but I tried to smile and brush it off as nothing while It will all be okay at sundown flashed through my thoughts.

  “What activities do you want to join today?” I asked. “We’ll need to sign up before breakfast.” And I needed to find that Magical-Creature Controller. On that thought, I looked around for my emergency wristband. Hadn’t I left it on my bedside table?

  “Oh, all of them!” She laughed. “Do hurry and put on your face. I want to get started.”

  I dashed on some makeup, put my hair up in a messy bun, and followed her to the elevator at a trot. At the front desk, she scribbled our names on the lists. “We can spend the time in between at the beach or in the gardens, I suppose,” she said, pressing one finger to her lower lip.

  I simply smiled and nodded, hoping no one would notice that Catriona Rinaldi—not the name of a registered guest—had signed up for tennis, boating, a horseback ride, and dance lessons. What if she decided to make the same wish every day we were here? How could I explain? The woman would run me ragged!

  In the dining hall I scanned the room for open seats, but Catriona made her own choice. As she marched toward the only empty seat at a table packed with young lords, my heart nearly stopped. No one could mistake those broad shoulders or that pale, chiseled profile under shining black hair. Why, oh why, was Max here for the opening weekend? He looked up as Catriona approached, and when he spotted her, I saw that familiar flash of interest in his thickly lashed eyes.

  I couldn’t do it. I could not join her at that table with Max and the rest of his fellow beach-volleyball jocks. If I did, Max would certainly figure out who she was, and then what?

  I sat with an elderly couple at a table across the room. From there I could keep an eye on Catriona, and Max’s back was toward me. The couple tried to draw me into conversation, but I was too distracted to be friendly.

  She left in company with the five men.

  I waited until they must have reached the lobby before excusing myself to follow. When I peeked through the lobby door, Catriona was just entering the elevator. Good! I could catch her in our suite and maybe regain some control. After some searching, I found a staircase and ran up to the top floor.

  Catriona was in my room, changing into my swim gear amid piles of rejected garments. “Oh, there you are. I don’t need you after all—my day is packed with handsome men!” She surveyed the disaster she had caused and curled her lip. “You really
should clean your room or mop floors or something. Just go ahead and entertain yourself. I don’t want you following me around and spoiling my fun.”

  “But, Lady Beneventi! You’re my responsibility, and we have an appointment with . . . I mean, we need to see someone today. He’ll be coming here to the suite, and—”

  “All the more reason for me to run.” She paused and gave me a once-over. “Really, girl, change into something more appropriate for your position. You’re my paid companion, not a guest here. Whatever were you thinking?”

  While I stared, dumbfounded, she headed for the door in my flip-flops, sunglasses, sporty swimsuit, and designer coverup. “Enjoy your appointment, darling!” As the door shut, she turned back to give me a wave and a wink, waggled her eyebrows, and was gone.

  “You’ll need to tell the family about this.” Maria stood in the doorway to her small bedroom. “They expect you to keep an eye on her throughout the day. It’s your job.”

  “I can’t do both at once.” I gave her a hopeful look. “Will you contact the Trefont—”

  “No. Like I said, that’s your job.” She stepped back and closed the door.

  “Wow. Thanks for nothing,” I muttered. This day might bring just about anything, so I needed to be prepared. I changed from my dress into a more practical outfit, then paused to collect my keys, my cell phone—which didn’t work at the resort, but habit was strong—and a light hoodie, just in case. Still no sign of the emergency bracelet.

  I took the elevator to the lobby, made a precautionary scan of the room for Max, then hurried to the front desk. Yes, I needed to let the Trefontane family know what was happening, but I had decided to call Manny instead. He could contact them if he thought it necessary, and he could give me advice. Besides, I had promised to call him if any wishes went wrong.

  As soon as Mr. Sten looked up, I blurted, “I need to make a phone call.”

  “I’m sorry, but the telephone line is not working today. You may write a letter or drive down the mountain until you find cellular service.”