“Garronois, actually,” she said, and the sound of her voice had Simon straightening, renewed interest coloring his features. Not the kind of interest a man normally had for a woman, though—it was intense but impersonal, almost clinical.
Vince suppressed a chuckle. He suspected he would not have much to worry about from the professor after all.
“Parents both from the country, yes? And you’ve not been here long. Your consonants are only now beginning to soften, vowels to lengthen.” Simon lifted a finger. “Be careful, it will become a habit quickly enough, and one you’ll need to unlearn when you return. The Garronois appreciate tourists, but they’re quite proud.”
“Quite.” Edeena bowed. She turned again to Vince, her eyes remaining merry. “I didn’t know you had an anthropologist hidden away here.”
Despite his certainty of the nature of Simon’s interest, Vince wasn’t keen on pushing his luck. “I thought Edeena would enjoy the museum, if you’re accepting visitors today?”
“Of course, of course,” Simon waved them vaguely inside, but he still watched Edeena keenly. “You’ve not left your homeland before, have you?” he asked as she passed him.
Edeena shot Vince a startled look. “I . . . well, no. Not in any real sense. A few vacations in foreign countries, but we remained cloistered in private villas or on vacation compounds.” She waved at the house. “Not unlike this, I suspect. Set apart from everything.”
“Excellent,” Simon muttered, and Vince cleared his throat.
“I was hoping you knew enough about the collection here to explain it all?” Vince interjected. “I know your grandparents are in town.”
“Wednesday,” Simon nodded, as if that explained everything. Which it did. “But I know a little about it, yes.” He glanced quizzically at Vince. “Island royalty,” he said succinctly.
“What’s that?” Edeena asked as Vince nodded.
“Why your . . .” Simon hesitated only slightly, blinked, and Vince colored. “Why Mr. Rallis thought you might be interested. The museum here isn’t so much a true museum as a collection of castoffs from Sea Haven’s most prominent residents, past and present. The house at Heron’s Point has been in the family of a Garronois for three, maybe four generations now?” He narrowed his eyes. “Not Saleri, though.”
“It was my mother’s family, Contos,” Edeena supplied. “A century ago, the Saleris and the Contoses were very close—a contingent of them stayed with the Contoses in the…thirties, I think? But they didn’t intermarry until my mother and father.” Simon nodded, satisfied.
“Yes, yes, that makes sense.” He led them through the house to a wide back hallway, the house neatly bisected by the pale, polished hardwood floor. “To the right is the living space of the Pearl. We have twelve bedrooms, if you can believe that, and breakfast is served here and in the dining area—or out on the deck, weather permitting.” He allowed himself a small grin. “When we have guests, which isn’t often any more. My grandparents can only get around so well, and prefer to entertain their friends instead of strangers.” He stopped, shook his head slightly as if he’d said too much, and turned to left. “The museum is this way.”
He opened a heavy door and Vince kept his gaze on Edeena, taking in her reaction. As he’d hoped, she exclaimed in instant delight. “Oh, this is so charming!”
She took several steps into the wide space, turning around. “How in the world did you gather so many items?”
Vince moved in behind her, and Simon pulled the door shut. The place had a sense of not being disturbed for weeks—maybe months—but Simon gave no indication of irritation at their intrusion. Maybe he, too, was going a little stir crazy on the island. “We’ve had a lot of time to do it,” he said now, gesturing to the shelves lining the wall, the large white tables boasting all manner of items—some open to the air, some under glass. “Pinnacle House was built at the turn of the nineteenth century, by a woman who loved collecting things more than she loved breathing, I suspect. She was willing to pay to host collections, too, and at the time, money was tight for more than a few of the wealthy landowners of the area. In some cases, she paid more to keep the collections permanently, and one by one the items took up residence here. Now, there are records that would release the items back to their original owners, but most of the families recognize that the collections have little more than sentimental value. They prefer to think of them here, out on the Pearl, where they’ll be preserved and viewed on occasion instead of boxed up and shoved into an attic.”
“How could you ever box these up!” Edeena said, staring at an entire menagerie of animals created out of sea shells.
“An eccentric widow provided those, in 1930,” Simon explained. “She was too old to manage pets herself, but her mind was nimble, and so were her fingers.” He continued to supply Edeena with information while she drifted around the room, offering tidbits and anecdotes as she lost herself in the collection. There were dresses and hats and parasols, beach toys and a matched set of tea spoons, books and baubles and beads. But it wasn’t until she’d nearly circled the entire room that she reached the true treasure of the collection, as far as Vince was concerned. He wondered if she’d recognize it.
She stopped, her head tilting as she paused in front of the glass case. “What in the world . . .” she murmured, leaning close. Then she flinched back, her startled gaze flying to Vince’s.
“Those . . . that jewelry belonged to my family,” she spoke, the words all coming out in a rush. “They bear the Saleri seal!”
Chapter Nine
“Well, that’s intriguing.” Simon’s words sounded overloud in the hushed room, but Edeena could barely focus on him with the way her head was suddenly pounding. What . . . how . . .?
The jewelry in the case wasn’t expensive, she could tell at a glance. The stones were all semi-precious, and not high grade at that, no matter how attractively they were set into the bands of gold or draped on long gold chains. They were large—large enough for the seal to be obviously stamped into each, a crown beneath an arc of three stars. It was a simple enough seal, and easily copied, but she didn’t think these were copies.
She looked up at Simon. “Where did you get these?” she asked, only barely keeping the accusation out of her voice.
He didn’t seem to mind the baldness of the question. “I didn’t know they were Saleri jewels,” he said thoughtfully. “All this time we’ve referred to them as the Contos Collection. They were given to my . . . let’s see, great grandfather, in the mid 1930s,” he said. “The Contoses owned Heron’s Point then as well as now, though they didn’t live there full time. Instead they paid a caretaker to keep up the grounds, and housed immigrant families there on occasion as I recall. That all changed in 1919 when an entire contingent from Garronia moved to Sea Haven for an extended visit.
“The war,” Edeena said, turning back to the case. “They were fleeing World War I.”
“Most likely, yes,” Simon nodded. He was watching her closely, but Edeena didn’t mind. She was used to being stared at, whether by the press, the public, even her own family. She’d avoided a lot of that scrutiny by coming to Sea Haven, but even that respite wouldn’t last long. The shock of seeing the Saleri seal in a public case of trinkets and relics from this island’s history sent a wave of obligation surging through her. She was the head of her family in this generation. She had obligations to fulfill.
She glanced back to Simon. “But how did these . . . how did Saleri jewels get all the way to Pearl Island?” Even as she asked the question, she remembered the financial records citing the endless luggage and bric-a-brac the Saleris had left behind. Could the Contos descendants have pawned off the jewelry out of spite when they found it, rather than returning it to Garronia? She probably would have.
“It’s an interesting question.” There was a wisp of good humor on Simon’s face, but the man sobered as he realized she wasn’t in a joking mood. “There’s some doubt as to where the jewels originated, but the preva
iling theory is that they’d been stored at the house since the Contoses had first bought the property in the late 1800s. I see now we were a bit mistaken on that point. No one knew where they came from, however, and even at the time, they were considered little more than costume jewelry. With the Depression still hitting the area hard, my own great grandfather’s museum was failing, and the Contos family offered up the jewels on permanent loan, as a way of drumming up business for us.” Simon gave her a grave nod. “It worked. Despite the war hitting a few years later, tourism kept trickling into the low country, and the jewels were quite a draw. There were any number of stories that sprang up around them. If my grandparents were here, they’d be the first to tell you all about them.”
“I’m sure,” Edeena said. She could sense the question coming next, and held up her hand to forestall it. “You can keep the jewels, Mr. Blake. You’ve cared for them better than we would have at Heron’s Point, I suspect, and if they bring attention to your lovely little museum, then so much the better.”
She managed a smile for both men, but her heart churned at the reminder that even on this tiny, remote island, she couldn’t escape her responsibility to her family. “What’s next to see?”
It took another half hour to finish the viewing of the museum, then to take a tour of the beautiful old house on the dunes, Simon remaining courteous but distant throughout, apparently a loner who’d been well-trained in the art of managing surprise visitors with a maximum level of efficiency. They returned to the front of the house as the sun went behind a thin brace of clouds, and the immediate change to the heat level was a welcome relief.
“Thank you so much for your time,” Edeena said, turning once more to Simon. “I’m sorry we missed your grandparents.”
“I probably won’t tell them you were here, to be totally honest,” Simon said with a rueful grimace. “They’ll be devastated to know they missed you, and if you’re not careful, they’ll hijack the bus from the Grove Senior Citizen’s Center and take a road trip to Heron’s Point.”
“Oh!” Edeena laughed, but the sudden image was a welcome diversion. “Well, you’ll be glad to know my younger sister is our family’s unofficial ambassador, and she’s loved nothing more than exploring bits and pieces of island lore since she arrived at Sea Haven. I’ll tell her she simply must visit—just not on a Wednesday.”
Simon’s return smile looked almost strange on his taciturn face, but it was authentic. “They’d like that very much,” he nodded. “They have all sorts of tales attached to the items in this old museum, and they’ll take great pride in telling her every single one.”
“Then we’ll have to ensure they get the chance.” She shook Simon’s hand and turned again to Vince, allowing him to lead her back down the steps toward town. It was a beautiful day, and she couldn’t remember enjoying herself quite so much, even with the unpleasant reminder the jewels had afforded her.
“Did you recognize those pieces specifically?” Vince asked. His steps had also seemed to slow as they strolled back toward the little town.
“I didn’t,” Edeena shook her head. “Not that I would, necessarily. They were pretty pieces, but they weren’t valuable.” She shrugged. “I’m sure my predecessors wouldn’t have left them behind, otherwise. It’s one thing to be forgetful; it’s another to cut into your own family fortune because of it.”
“They seemed to have been valuable enough, though, if they saved the museum.” Vince gave a short laugh. “Hard to believe that’s been operational since the thirties. The house doesn’t even have adequate parking. No way would it pass business inspection today.” He rubbed his hand over his chin. “Maybe they don’t charge anymore.”
“Or maybe it’s been grandfathered in? Or in this case, great-grandfathered?” She smiled as he grinned back at her, and her heart gave another hard twist. She had serious responsibilities, but the day was so warm, the breeze fragrant with sea grass and wildflowers, and they were separated from the world by a band of glittering water. She sighed, and Vince’s grin faltered.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, searching her face. “What is it you’re worried about? Something to do with that jewelry?”
“Oh, not specifically that, no,” she said. He’d stopped now and was peering down at her, so she managed an offhand smile. “Could we have another coffee, or an iced tea perhaps? Something at that one shop?”
“Of course,” he said, and he reached for her hand again, resuming their walk. He didn’t speak though, and after another minute, Edeena continued. There was no real reason not to confide in Vince, after all, and he was so attentive, in his way. Granted, she was paying him to be attentive, but at least she knew without question that he had her safety and security as his top priorities.
“The seal of the Saleri family is what did it, I think,” she said. “Seeing that mark made me realize that the future of my family isn’t merely an inconvenience for me. It’s something I must take seriously. If I don’t, it will fall to Caroline or Marguerite, and neither of them are as familiar with the politics and personalities of the Garronia nobility as I am.”
“Because you’ve been protecting them from it.”
“It hasn’t been that much of a hardship,” she laughed. “The extended Saleri family hasn’t come together in generations, so there were only a few hard-nosed curmudgeons to endure. But yes, better me than them, especially after my mother died.” She sighed, finally willing to acknowledge the truth. “Even before my mother died, if I’m honest. She traveled as much as she could, especially toward the end. I don’t think she and my father much cared for each other, though she would never admit it. Of course, I was only ten years old. I’m sure there’s a lot she didn’t wish to tell me when I was so young.”
Vince said nothing at first, merely squeezed her hand. They’d reached the coffee shop, and within a few minutes were sitting on the quaint screened porch, overlooking a shady back space. They were the only customers there, and she realized how grateful she was for that. This time on the island had been an unexpected idyll, and she hadn’t understood how much she needed that until today.
“So,” Vince said, after she’d taken a long drink of her iced tea, “if you could wave your magic wand, how would you resolve the issue of the curse?”
Vince watched Edeena closely, not missing her grimace. She’d already given up, he suspected. At barely twenty-seven years old, she’d seen everything she’d decided she needed to see and was going to allow herself to marry some bozo with a pedigree in the vain—and frankly insane—attempt to satisfy the strictures of a made-up curse.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, frankly. What kind of father would unload that kind of information on his daughter, then stand back and expect her to upend her life to save the family? It’s not like she could make things right with the sweat of her brow or, God forbid, her intelligence and talents. No, she had to marry a guy who came up as bachelor-number-one and then sit back and . . . hope for the best? What kind of plan of action was that?
“Honestly, I think whatever happens will end up being the right thing,” Edeena said, and the resolution in her voice made his gut tighten. “I’ll go through the most likely partners from the list that Prudence is working through, meet them all, find one of them who’s a suitable match, and we’ll come to terms. The men of Garronia have a lot to recommend them, and in the end, a marriage is about finding a good partner.”
“And what qualifies as good?” Vince worked hard to keep his tone easy, his expression neutral.
“Kind, honest, respectful,” Edeena ticked off the answers as if she’d already given them a lot of thought. “Financially solvent. I’m blessed enough not to worry about money, but if my husband proves to be addicted to online gambling, that will cause problems I’d rather avoid.”
He nodded. “That’s all that matters to you?”
“That’s what matters most,” she said, and another twist of annoyance sliced through him. Her answers would have made sense if sh
e was fifty years old, maybe. But she was young, beautiful, and full of life. What in her brief description had anything to do with finding a man who would make her laugh, make her heart race, take her on adventures? She could pick anyone in the world—hell, she had actual bona fide princes on her list of possible fiancés—and she was going to net out with “financially solvent?” Clearly she needed an intervention.
Vince put his glass down, reached out a hand and pointed to the back door of the screened in porch. “C’mon,” he said. “There’s a feature of this coffee house that you gotta see.”
She peered from him to the brushy back plot. “That looks like it’s completely untended back there.”
“It is, but that’s on purpose. The owners of this shop are New Age and have a thing for meditation spaces. Let’s see if it’s still set up.”
“Meditation?” She stood, and they stepped out into the afternoon heat. The twisted trees of Pearl Island were built low to the ground, but the brush was thick wherever it could encroach into the landscaping, and that was certainly the case behind the coffee shop. There was a single flagstone-lined path that remained visible through the high grass, and Edeena willingly followed behind him past the thickest section of brush.
“Here you go,” he said, “a labyrinth.”
“A . . .” Edeena frowned, peering around. “There aren’t any hedges.”
He pointed to the ground which, though partially obscured by the tall grass, still showed the positioning of stones in a roughly circular pattern. “The goal is to walk along the labyrinth and follow the trail, see where it takes you, while working out your troubles.”
“From the looks of things, the owners aren’t terribly troubled.” Edeena laughed, but she gestured him before her. “You first.”
He shook his head. “Nope, we’ll go together, and you have to decide which way to turn—right or left.”
Cursed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 5 Page 9
