Beverly leaned in to get a better look. The black-and-white photograph showed a young woman in an elegant dress standing beside a handsome man in formal attire. They were posed in front of what looked like a castle.
“Where did you find this?” Eleanor asked, still staring at the photo.
“I was actually doing some research on castles in Switzerland, nothing to do with Magnolia Key’s history. But I came upon an article from a paper in Switzerland.” Dale’s eyes were bright with excitement. “I emailed the paper, and they sent me this copy of a photo from their archive. The caption identifies her as Miss Vera Whitmore of Magnolia Key and him as His Royal Highness, Prince Lawrence of Bardonzia.”
“What year was this?”
“Nineteen-thirty-five. And once I knew the location, I did some more digging. Your great-aunt Vera and Lawrence lived in Switzerland in that castle you see behind them in the photo.” He paused. “And they both died in Switzerland many years later.”
“But what about Lawrence’s wife? And wasn’t he to become king of Bardonzia?”
“His wife died of influenza, in nineteen-thirty.”
“But he was king, wasn’t he? Why would he move to Switzerland?”
“He never became king. He gave up his birthright, and his brother became king after their father died.”
“He gave up all that for Vera?”
Dale nodded. “He did. He must have loved her very much. And they got married.” He dug in his bag again. “Look, here’s a photo from their wedding.”
Eleanor stared at the photo. “My family sent her away, practically exiled her, when there were rumors about her and Lawrence. They couldn’t abide with talk about the Whitmore name. It’s no wonder she never contacted us to let us know where she was or that she was happily married to Lawrence.”
Beverly watched as Eleanor’s fingers traced the outlines of the figures in the photograph. The older woman’s expression softened, and for a moment, she saw something unexpected in Eleanor’s eyes—was it wistfulness?
“I should go get your food,” Beverly said, feeling like an intruder in their moment. She hurried to the kitchen, and when she returned, Dale was gone. Eleanor was sitting quietly, and Jonah was sipping his coffee.
“You okay, Eleanor?” she asked as she placed their food on the table.
Eleanor nodded thoughtfully. “I am. After all these years, I finally know that Vera had her happy ending.”
Eleanor walked beside Jonah along the sunlit sidewalks back to his cottage. Jonah unlocked the door and held it for her. Winston trotted up to meet them, then immediately headed to his bed in the corner of the living room. She smiled as the dog turned in three circles before settling down with a contented sigh. At least that was a familiar routine.
“Would you like some tea?” Jonah asked, heading toward the kitchen.
“That sounds lovely.” She sat on the comfortable armchair by the window, feeling unsettled.
Jonah returned a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of tea and handed one to her. “Sorry, I don’t have fancy teacups like you have at your home. But don’t worry, we’ll get you settled back home in a few days.”
It surprised her that she no longer longed to move back into her home where she lived alone with Winston. She’d gotten used to quiet mornings with Jonah and playing card games with Cliff at night.
Jonah sat down in the chair opposite her and studied her face. “You were quiet on the walk home. Are you okay?” he asked, concern etching his features.
She took a sip of her tea before looking up at him. “I am. Just… thoughtful.”
“About what?”
She set her mug down on the small wooden table beside her. “About so many things. About Vera. About all the pieces we’ve found out about her over the months.”
“It has been quite the trail of breadcrumbs, hasn’t it?”
She nodded. “First, there was that rolled canvas Beverly found in her office—the painting of Bardonzia. How strange that something so significant was tucked away and forgotten all these years.”
“And you said Maxine found the coded letter from Vera in an old purse,” Jonah added.
“Yes. Then they found Vera’s pendant at Tori’s theater during the renovations and the hidden letters from Lawrence under the floor of Jenna’s cottage, the cottage Vera used to live in.”
She sipped on her tea for a few moments. “And then the letter from Lawrence to Vera that was found hidden at Darlene’s B&B. All these little pieces of their story scattered across our island like a treasure hunt… like it was meant for us—for me—to find. To finally find out the truth about Vera.”
