Another wave of heat and John felt as if he’d tumble from his chair. Emmanuel stood, left payment on the table, then touched John’s shoulder.
“I’ll see you again soon.”
Something akin to a shock zapped him and for an intense second, he shook. Then he collapsed, sliding down in his seat.
“Ernst, night. Stella.” Emmanuel bid farewell to the proprietor and his wife. “Your Royal Highness,” he said to John, “remember, a cord of three strands is not easily broken.”
Unable to speak all he could do was nod.
“You’ve two feathers, correct?”
John gathered himself and sat up. “Yes, sir, swan feathers. But how do you know— Never mind. You just know, don’t you?”
“There’s a third somewhere. Find it. You’ll be pleased.”
“A third? Where? What does it mean?”
“Goodnight, Prince John. And remember, God is with you.”
Chapter Thirty
Gemma
Her morning routine was off. Even though she had no animals to feed, she still woke up at 5:00 a.m., showered and dressed, quietly scrambled a couple of eggs, and ate them on the front porch steps as the first rays of light broke the night sky.
By seven-thirty she bid Imani, “Have a good day,” then headed off to the shop for a day of cleaning, sorting, rearranging, filing, paying bills, answering email, and scouting out new vendors. In her spare time, she researched ways to stage a photo shoot for the next time Taylor Gillingham called for assistance.
At nine, she retrieved the morning pastries from Haven’s and ate her first one while it was warm and fragrant, pairing it with a fresh cup of coffee and cream.
A couple of newspapers reached out for an interview, including Lauchtenland’sNews Leader. She deleted every email. She wasn’t even sure how they’d found her.
But on this particular morning, October having just arrived with a crisp breeze and scent of fall, she was deep in the inventory closet once again, reorganizing from a frenzied weekend with a large bridal party, when she heard a sweet “Hello?” float across the mezzanine.
Adelaide.
At the same time, her phone pinged with a text. She rolled her eyes at the name on the screen. What did he want? Mr. B. A. “Take Away My Land” Carpenter.
“Gemma, could you meet at the Kingston place this afternoon at 5:00?”
The Kingston place? Now she realized why she’d not named the farm during her short tenure. It was never really hers.
“Need to sign some papers. Legal mumbo jumbo releasing you of all claim. Also, an affidavit assuring you knew nothing of the fraud. They won’t press charges.”
She resented the very idea of pressing charges, but she was grateful they believed her story.
“I’ll be there.”
“There you are.” Gemma tucked her phone in her pocket and turned to greet Adelaide, her cloud of hair fluffed with the lingering summer humidity. “I’ve something to show you.”
“What are you doing here?” Gemma stepped back as the tiny woman barged into the storeroom and made her way to the vintage boxes. “Princess Daffodil told me about you. Is it true? You haunted her too?”
“I never haunt. And yes, I visited her. ’Twas me job, love. I have something special for you to try on.” She jumped up, yes, jumped, reached the box on the top shelf and pulled it down.
Okay, maybe she was a bit of an otherworldly creature.
“That’s JoJo and Haley’s wedding dress.” Gemma pointed to the box.
“Indeed. But it’s more than something you wear once and put on a shelf.” Adelaide carried the box, which was half as tall as she, out to the mezzanine and removed the lid. “I don’t know why the brides always try to box it away. Lights are supposed to shine, you know.”
