Fae (27 page)

“It is a special piece of literature. But my favorite author?” She smiled nervously. “I've never really thought about it before.”

She stood up and looked around the room. She started to scan the titles. “We've covered Bronte, HG Wells, Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Poe.”

“
The Raven
?” Odin asked quizzically.

“No, not so much.” She smiled and shook her head, “The title alone is frightening enough.”

“Poe was a beautiful soul. A very talented man.” Odin eyes lit up with laughter. “
Romeo and Juliet
? Always a crowd-pleaser. A favorite of the ladies.”

“Star-crossed lovers, the worst kind,” I interjected, suddenly feeling an aching similarity to the Shakespearean characters.

“It is better to have love and lost,” Caroline said as she turned in my direction.

“Than to have never loved at all,” Odin finished her sentence.

I looked at the two of them and nodded, but my heart couldn't have disagreed more.

Sensing that this conversation may take a turn for the worst, Odin turned to Caroline and continued in his quest to learn more about the girl before him.

“Okay my dear, I'm not letting you off the hook so easy. Favorite book.”

She smiled at him in delight and continued to forge forward. “I guess my favorite book would have to be Tolstoy's
A Confession
.”

“Aha, searching for the true meaning of life,” Odin said as he laughed and began climbing up one of the ladders that faced his many bookshelves.

“Every attempt to be morally good is met with scorn,” I replied, feeling a deep connection to the author.

“Perhaps in his world, but not in this one,” Odin replied understanding the deep meaning behind my words. Turning back to the ladder, Odin continued climbing and muttering, “Tolstoy, Tolstoy, here it is.” He reached up and pulled the old book from blew away the dust that had accumulated on it.

“I seem to have a copy of it right here. Yes, yes, despite all odds and opposition, it's important to always be true to yourself.”

Caroline nodded and smiled excitedly and walked toward him.

“Do you mind if I look at it?” she asked as her eyes widened. She was like a kid in a candy store.

“Look at it? It's yours to keep,” Odin told her with his arms extended, handing Caroline the priceless treasure.

“Oh no! I could never take this,” Caroline replied shaking her head.

“
Devilyn
and I insist,” he said as he looked over at me. “I won't take no for an answer, and you'll find, my dear, that I can be incredibly persuasive.”

Caroline still shook her head.

“No, it's too precious and far too valuable.”

“Well then, it's the perfect gift for you,” I replied.

I took in a deep breath.

There was nothing I could say.

No witty response.

I was silenced.

And confused.

I spent the better half of our time in the library stealing quick glances at him, and I was careful to do it only when he wasn't looking. I was searching desperately for a trace of the person I had grown to know over the past few months. But that person wasn't there anymore. In his place was someone entirely different.

Someone I didn't recognize.

He had done so much since his arrival to make it known that he wasn't interested in me. For a while I had actually thought he despised me. But now, he was being so nice, so complimentary. It was almost the opposite. Since the night at Jordana's party something had changed. Almost like he was seeing me in a different way. On the bus ride to Plymouth I had allowed myself to hope and to believe that this beautiful man was starting to fall for me.

The doubt crept back when I saw him smile at something his grandfather said.

He was too good.

Too perfect.

Why would he want me?

I promised myself that no matter how embarrassing it would be, I would let him know on the drive home that we could be friends, but the innuendos had to stop. Even though I was incredibly flattered, I couldn't go on receiving confusing messages from him or anyone else
anymore
.

I was happy with my decision and determined to confront him on the drive home and be done with it.

I slowly rubbed my fingers across the cover of the beautiful book. Turning to the charming and mysterious older man, I reached out and handed him the first edition of Leo Tolstoy's
A Confession
, a book I had read over and over.

So few words, yet so much meaning.

“I am so flattered that you would want to give me such a treasure, but I can't take this gift. It belongs here in your beautiful home.”

Devilyn's grandfather stared deep into my eyes and smiled brightly. Although he was dressed like a king, and obviously lived like one, there was something so comforting and familiar about him. I felt a connection from the moment I entered their home. Well, if I was being honest, from the moment we turned down the road leading to it. It all felt strangely familiar.

Or maybe I was imagining things again.

“I learned in my younger days to never to argue with an intelligent and determined lady, so I respect the way you feel,” he told me seemingly saddened that I was returning his beautiful treasure. “But I would like to extend you another offer. You are welcome here at any time, on any day, and you are free to read any of the books in this library and in this house.”

“You may regret that,” I said to him with a smile. The thought of having free reign in the enormous library was beyond tempting. I could picture myself in the room for hours at a time; although no matter how tempting the offer was, I would never impose on the family in such a manner.

“Sir, forgive me, I do not mean to interrupt, but dinner is served,” the butler announced. I was surprised to see him in the room, as I hadn't even heard him approach. It was as if he appeared out of thin air.

Dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and black bowtie, he fit the role of butler to perfection. I couldn't even imagine what it must be like to live in such luxury—butlers, maids, chefs—it was shocking to know that anyone in Roanoke lived like this. I had so many questions running through my mind, none of which I would ever ask out loud.

I had to give Devilyn a lot of credit. Had it been anyone else, they certainly would have continually flaunted these excesses, but he was incredibly humble and unimposing.

We walked down the long wood-paneled corridor to their formal dining room. Devilyn's grandfather, who walked in front of us, practically floated all the way down the hall. As soon as he reached the room, he turned and clapped his hands together.

“Perfection,” he said with a huge smile. “Dinner is my favorite meal of the day.”

When we reached the room, I could see why. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before. A large crystal chandelier hung from the center of the wall, crystals hung from the light fixture, each one larger than my entire hand and sparkling like diamonds. The long wooden table was entirely adorned with the most decadent food I had ever set eyes on. A rainbow of colors mixed in a sea of tasty delights.

“Do you dine like this every night?” I couldn't keep the shock out of my voice.

“We do,” Devilyn said to me with a shrug. “As he just said, my grandfather
loves
this meal in particular. He always says that we should start the day seeking satisfaction and end the day feeling satiated.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” I said then began to laugh at the notion that he actually enjoyed the meals he had shared with me. “I guess dinners at our diner must have been such a disappointment to you.”

He pulled out my chair for me, and as he went to push it in, he leaned down and whispered in my ear, “They were
my
favorite.”

His scent washed over me. He was so handsome. I couldn't stop the goosebumps I felt from the light touch of his breath caressing my neckline. He had a strange power over me. Whenever I was near him I wanted more. Something deeper. Something I didn't even understand. I had to push the thoughts out of my head when I realized I was walking on a dangerous minefield again. It was like being on the outskirts of a spider's web: one false move and I would be trapped.

But would that necessarily be such a bad thing?
I thought as Devilyn took the seat beside me.

His grandfather sat at the head of the table and clapped his hands together. Again it was as if the help appeared out of nowhere. In an instant there were servers pouring our drinks into gilded crystal wine glasses and placing beautiful linen napkins in our laps. I was blown away by the opulence, stunned into silence actually, and not sure what I was supposed to do next.

“My dear, please help yourself,” his grandfather said to me as he pointed to various dishes that surrounded me.

I didn't know what to try first.

“All of this looks too beautiful to touch,” I said to him. “Thank you for allowing me to enjoy this meal with you.”

“Speak nothing of it. It is our pleasure to have you here.” He smiled graciously at me as one of the servers poured him food from some of the numerous dishes.

He held my gaze for a second longer, and I
knew
I had seen him before. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it earlier in the evening, but the den had been so dark. Here, now sitting under the illuminated light of the chandelier, staring at his glittering eyes, I knew our paths had crossed before, only I couldn't remember when or where.

I was really good with faces, but I couldn't pinpoint where I had seen him. There was something about his knowing stare, something about his hearty laugh that made me feel safe, secure. I had to be losing my mind. I had never felt unsafe with my parents, but this was different.

“Devilyn tells me that you're working on a History project together.” Thankfully he interrupted my thoughts. “Something about lineage?”

I nodded my head as I helped myself to a generous portion of the sautéed asparagus.

“Yes, we were given a really difficult assignment,” I said, not even trying to hide my frustration. “Well, I should rephrase that: it's been difficult for me but simple for Devilyn.”

“Difficult, how?” his grandfather asked as he took a bite of his steak.

“Well, we were asked to put together a detailed family tree. And I honestly don't know much about my ancestors,” I replied sincerely. “So, it's been challenging to gather all of the information needed to complete the project.”

“You're a smart girl. All you need to do is look at the beginning—you're beginning to clarify—and when you understand that all the rest will start to fall into place.”. He picked up his glass of wine and took a sip.

“Forgive my grandfather and his cryptic way of speaking. He likes to do that sometimes and throw everyone off,” Devilyn said to me as he shook his head. “The beginning?”

“Caroline knows what I'm talking about,” he said to Devilyn.

I appreciated his faith in me. I thought I knew what he was talking about, but I wasn't completely sure.

But it was fascinating to watch the two of them interact with each other. I had never seen Devilyn uncomfortable before, but it seemed that his grandfather could throw him off very easily.

“I think she should stay in the present and work her way back. That's the logical approach,” Devilyn's tone was almost threatening. Was I imagining this?

“Not always,” his grandfather returned as he pushed forward. “Anyone who's lived on Roanoke really has no desire to live anywhere else. The families of this island go back for generations and generations. Beginning their lives and eventually ending them right here. It's quite fascinating actually.”

He was right.

“Are you suggesting I start with The Lost Colony?” I blurted out as if a light had gone off in my head. Devilyn looked at me sharply.

“You know they disappeared.”

I felt cold when Devilyn said that.

“There was a passenger list. All their names are there on record for anyone to see.”

“They are not your beginning. They all died,” he insisted.

“How do you know?” I questioned. I was shocked at the coldness in Devilyn's voice.

“It's in the history books,” Devilyn said turning from me.

“They're not always right. What if a few escaped and ran off?” I challenged him.

“Caroline—” Devilyn began.

“Maybe your parents will have the answers you need,” his grandfather interrupted us. He stared at Devilyn for a long moment then smiled at me.

“Parents always seem to know everything.”

“I've been meaning to interview them for this project, but they've been so tied up with their business,” I told him.

“Caroline's parents own a lovely diner,” Devilyn explained.

“Well, I will have to stop by one of these days,” his grandfather said.

The thought of his grandfather coming to our restaurant was laughable. I could just see him there ordering the Monday night special. Talk about a fish out of water.

“You are always welcome; we'll give you the best seat in the house,” I replied with a smile.

“I look forward to it,” he said as he raised his glass.

We continued to eat in silence. I was thankful for it because I got to enjoy the sheer splendor of the meal. Their chef was excellent. I imagined that they must have flown him over from Paris or Italy.

Devilyn's grandfather suddenly rose and wiped his mouth with his linen napkin. He rubbed both of his hands together and pushed his chair back.

“Well now that I'm done with my meal, I'm going to leave you two alone to finish up. I'm sorry to leave so abruptly, but I have some work I need to complete in the study.”

I hadn't even finished half my meal and he was already done with his. As he moved to leave the room, he turned and looked at me, “Do try the desserts; they've made some of my favorites.”