“Most important of all, however, is everything is falling into place. Just as I promised, we will have quite the gala wedding, my dear.” He looked at the book on the table. “What are you reading?”

I turned it over to show him and opened the cover to display the inscription.

“Who was Claudette?”

“Ah, Claudette.” He smiled. “She wasn’t much older than you. Someone I met in Paris.” He looked at the book. “We did exchange telegrams. I really never read the book, though. Is it good?”

“Did you love her?” I asked.

“Maybe for a minute,” he said. “That was at least three years ago. Now, don’t go searching Foxworth Hall for love letters and notes. What was in the past remains in the past. We are the future,” he declared, took a deep breath, and looked out at his property. “What a beautiful day. Lucas will take you to Charlottesville to shop when you are ready. I was very pleased to hear you’re making use of some of my mother’s wardrobe.”

“How did you find out? Did Dora send you a telegram?”

He laughed. “She was downstairs when I came in. Perhaps in time, you’ll choose other things as well.”

“I doubt it,” I said.

He glanced at me, his eyes cold for a moment, and then he laughed. “We’ll see. Right now, I had better check on the construction of our stage. I promised your mother there wouldn’t be a single blemish on this spectacle.”

He kissed me again.

“Don’t bankrupt me today at the department store,” he joked.

“Garland?”

“Yes?” He paused.

“I want you to show me the attic one day.”

“The attic? Why?”

“You told me a little about it, but I discovered a bedroom with a stairway that goes up to it. I thought that was odd.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that interesting. Maybe a skeleton or two is all.”

“Nevertheless, I want to know everything about this house.”

“Do you? Good. That will take decades. We’ll have a long, wonderful marriage. I’ll be like Scheherazade and tell you a different story about something in the house every day. That way, you won’t chop off my head to marry another handsome young man.”

He laughed, turned, and left.

It was the king who was cutting off heads, not his bride, I thought. I decided to skip lunch and go right to my shopping. Visiting a department store with my unlimited budget to buy whatever I chose would surely cheer me up. I rose, hurried in, and told Dora not to have any lunch prepared for me.

“But Mrs. Wilson already prepared some egg salad the way you like it,” she said.

“You eat it,” I told her. “You’ll like it, too. But first, go tell Lucas I’m coming out in ten minutes.”