He nodded, gesturing to the empty chair across from him. “Of course, Miss Eleanor. Please, have a seat.”
Her eyes darted to the other end of the porch where an older couple sat chatting quietly. She lowered her voice as she settled into the chair. “We need to speak about what you found hidden in the wall here at the B&B.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to broach the subject so directly. He leaned forward, matching her hushed tone. “You mean the letter to Vera?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she gave a curt nod. “Yes, that letter. I understand you and Felicity have been quite… enthusiastic in your research about Prince Lawrence’s time here on Magnolia Key.”
He felt a mix of excitement and unease. On the one hand, Eleanor might be about to provide some valuable information. On the other, her tone suggested she wasn’t entirely pleased with their investigation.
“We’ve been trying to piece together the history,” he explained carefully. “It’s fascinating, really. The idea of having a sister island. The prince’s frequent visits, the connections to the island…”
“Mr. Dunn,” she interrupted, her voice sharp but still quiet. “I’m not here to encourage your curiosity. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
Any chance of learning something more from Miss Eleanor deflated like a spent balloon, replaced by growing disappointment. “I’m not sure I understand, ma’am.”
Her gaze scanned the porch once more before settling back on him. “I know you believe the letter that suggests she had a… ah… relationship with Prince Lawrence.”
Brent nodded, his eyes meeting hers. “It did suggest they were quite close.”
She tapped her finger on the table. “I’m here to ask you to stop digging into this matter.” Her voice was firm, her gaze unwavering. “It’s a private family issue, and I won’t have any scandal attached to our name.”
Brent leaned back in his chair, considering her words. “I understand your concern, Miss Eleanor. But as a historian, I have a responsibility to uncover the truth about the past, especially when it involves such a significant figure as Prince Lawrence.”
“But the past is the past for a reason, Mr. Dunn. Some stories are better left untold, some secrets better kept.”
Brent frowned, his researcher’s instincts bristling at the idea of leaving any stone unturned. “But surely the truth is important? This could be a significant part of Magnolia Key’s history. Aninterestingpart.”
“It’s more than just history,” she said, her voice taking on a hint of steel. “It’s about real people, real lives. There are people who are still here, still affected by what happened all those years ago.”
He sat back in his chair, studying her face. He could see the tension in her features, the way her hands gripped the arms of her chair. This wasn’t just about protecting an old secret. There was something more personal at stake for her.
“Miss Eleanor,” he began carefully, “I understand your concern. But I’m not looking to cause any trouble or pain. I’m just trying to understand the past, including my own family’s connection to this island.”
“But Mr. Dunn, sometimes the past is best left where it is. Not every story needs to be told, not every question needs an answer.”
He sighed, torn between his desire to uncover the full story and his respect for Miss Eleanor’s wishes. “I don’t want to cause any distress for you or your family. But I also believe that history has a way of revealing itself, whether we like it or not.”
She stood abruptly, her forehead creased with disapproval. “I hope you’ll reconsider your stance, Mr. Dunn. For the sake of everyone involved.” With that, she turned and walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
He leaned back in his chair and stared out at the bay. What kind of researcher was he if he just let himself be persuaded to drop a story like this? One that involved a significant historical figure? And if he dropped it from his research and didn’t publish it, what would prevent someone from coming along after him and uncovering the truth? It would look like he hadn’t done a thorough job with his research.
Uneasiness settled over him. It seemed like he had an impossible decision to make.
Chapter18
There was no sign of Brent at breakfast the next morning. Felicity didn’t know if that was good or bad. She’d thought he’d come and track her down to see if she’d told Gran about the letter. She brought in the last tray of dishes from the dining room. “Everyone’s finished, Gran. You got quite a lot of compliments on the quiche this morning.”
“I’m glad the guests enjoyed it. I haven’t decided what we’re having tomorrow. Need to make up my mind and get started on the prep.”
She set the dishes by the dishwasher and started rinsing them. “I can help if you like. Or I can continue out in the shed. I’ve got about half of it sorted out. You’ll be surprised about how much more storage you’ll have.”
Gran paused as she was putting a carton of cream in the fridge. “I still feel bad that you’re tackling that project all on your own.”
“It keeps me busy. And it’s kind of fun going through all those boxes and seeing what’s accumulated. I did find a box of board games. I thought I’d bring a few in and put them in the sitting room for the guests to use on rainy days.”
“That’s a good idea. I can’t believe I let the shed get so out of control. It was an easy place to stash things and then stash more things. I kept meaning to organize it.”
“Well, I’ll soon have it organized for you and all the boxes labeled.” She slipped the last dish in the dishwasher and turned it on. “I guess I’ll head on out if we’re finished here.”
