“Many people would see only the injuries and not the person beneath.”

He loaded her plate and his and delivered them to the table. “Those kinds of judgments lead to trouble.”

“I’m living proof of that. Obviously I made one huge mistake in judgment.” She picked up her fork. “Anyway, the whole Lindholm story is interesting. Her great-great-great-grandmother, Maeve Lindholm, was a major 1930s movie star who drove north up the coast along the newly completed California State Route 1, took a right on Nacimiento-Fergusson Road, stepped out on the top of Widow’s Peak Ridge and announced, ‘I will build my home here.’”

“I guess I should have bought a copy of Freya Goodnight’s book.”

“Right. Gothic, California: A Haven for Lost Souls. I’ll bet it’s all in there. Anyway, the area ranchers, males all of them—” Elle pulled a face at him “—laughed and sold her the worthless land for the Tower and the town. They stopped laughing when they found out she was a ballbuster.”

He found himself enjoying the story. “I’ll bet that was a shock.”

“You bet, because Maeve was a beautiful, blonde bit of Scandinavian fluff.” Elle smiled a savagely pleased grin. “She knew what she wanted, and she had the money to get it. She designed and built the town. She decided which buildings would line that road and what they would be used for.” She sobered. “What she didn’t intend—would never have wished—was that her lover would fall to his death from an unfinished rampart of the Tower.”

“Ah, the tragedy that cursed the castle.”

“In the end, she had no one but her daughter, Hazel.” Elle took her first bite.

He dug in, too. “What happened to Hazel?”

“Hazel was a minor actress, and she produced a daughter named Rosabel. Rosabel was also a minor actress, and she produced a daughter named Audra.”

“Minor actress?” he guessed.

“Right. And Audra had Angelica. Sadly, that’s when the juicy gossip ends. As far as I can tell reading Angelica’s unsanctioned biography, her early life was charmed, and she’s such a savvy businesswoman she’s made a fortune. She seems to be living her perfect life. Except that she’s estranged from her son, but it’s a widely held opinion that she’s a force of nature, and if she cared to, she could reconcile with him. He was, from all accounts, a pleasant young man.”

He got the point. “Angelica’s reaction to you was more than just spontaneous. She acted as if she knew you.”

“Exactly. She did act as if she knew me. So I asked her. She said no. She looked me in the eyes, and she said no emphatically.” Elle held out her hands in a helpless gesture. “Of course, I don’t remember her.”

“No. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t.”

“How irritating is that!”