“No, not Lady Royal.She’s going back to Hearts Bend.Her life is there and mine is here.But I think I’m ready to try again.Purnell would want me to fall in love, marry, have children.”
“You may not want to hear this, son, but be glad you found out Lady Royal’s intentions before you gave her all of your heart, not just a piece or two.”Dad reached for his car door.“As for me?I’ll give it a go but give me a head start.You’ve a larger selection of women to choose from and I daresay, more recent experience.”
Michael laughed and offered his hand.“Deal.”
“Ah, this jogs my memory regarding our phone conversation.”Dad reached inside his motor for a folder and handed it to Michael.“I did some digging in the archives and couldn’t find evidence to corroborate Hamish Fickle’s claims.I doubt they have any merit.However, my assistant came across an old ledger listing Wenthelen Chapel as home for some obscure records.I checked with Royal Records, and they said there’s nothing to it.But if you want to find your way up to the chapel, might be worth a look.If nothing else, get a nice hike in the woods, see how the old chapel is standing.”
“They’ve still not fixed the roadway up to the chapel?”
“Not that I’ve heard.The Family, the Blue estate, nor the Royal Trust haven’t accessed the chapel in decades, which, on the balance, seems rather odd, given its royal and historical significance.The only way to the Wenthelen Chapel, and the Eye of God, is climbing a mountain pathway.”
Michale opened the folder that contained a single parchment carefully preserved and sealed in Mylar.The ornate script had faded yet clearly denoted that records had been moved from Perrigwynn Palace to Wenthelen Chapel, August 1643.
“A treasure hunt.”Michael glanced at his father.“You think it’s worth it?”
“That’s for you to decide.”Dad pointed to an old-fashioned map behind the document.“Follow the red line.See you at Fletcher’s.”
Michael sat in his motor, the engine idling, reversing his previous resolve.He’d not be resigning tonight.Once more, Scottie would get her wish.First, she’d requested a visit to the Midlands, then to meet Hamish Fickle, and now Wenthelen Chapel.
The “stir stick” was moving things in an interesting direction.Who knows, maybe they’d run into Ernst’s friend, Emmanuel, God with us.
Chapter Eighteen
Scottie
The vibrations of her kiss with Michael and the dance at the Belly of the Beast lingered with Scottie as she got on with the business of being with her mother and stepfather, enjoying afternoon walks across the grounds before afternoon tea, dining in Monarch One, followed by reading and listening to music in the Queen’s Library.
She’d not seen Michael since leaving him on the edge of the woods.Apparently, he’d gone to Port Fressa to see his nephew’s soccer game.She was sadly relieved yet oddly missing him.Still, she determined to regain her focus, which was not Michael Cross and his kisses but her mother’s love.
Friday afternoon Scottie’s calendar reminded her of the O’Shay executive team Zoom call, so she popped in to hear how the end of the fiscal year was shaping up.
Dad, Jack Gillingham, and Cousin Blake were in the office, while CFO Doug Langford and Vice President of Sales, Tricia White, were in Boston.
Everyone was surprised to see her.Odd.Why shouldn’t she attend a senior staff call?
“I’m still a member of the executive team.I’ll be home in a few weeks.”
The meeting seemed rather benign until Jack leaned for his coffee cup and Scottie saw a reminder on the meeting board.
Fairness Option—Revised
Goldman / Morgan call Tuesday 3 p.m.
“Dad, Doug,” she said.“Why are we revising the fairness option?”
Dad shot Jack a stricken glance, making a face.“Routine, Scottie.The board asked for one.”
“Routine?That’s a three- or four-hundred-thousand-dollar ask for nothing.”
“Scottie.”Doug Langford leaned toward his screen.“We noticed Boston Brothers is now our third-largest shareholder.The fairness option is the board’s way of letting them know they don’t have the funds to buy us out.”
Scottie exhaled at that point.“They tried this before.Why aren’t we buying them out?”
“We’ve talked about it,” Dad said.“How’s Lauchtenland?How’s my princess?”
“Dad, please, I’m not a princess.I’m thinking how one day O’Shay Shirts will own Boston Brothers.”
On Sunday, she picnicked with Kate and Edric, Arabella and William, and Rachel and her new male friend, Constantin von Thalberg, a handsome aristocratic friend from the Duchy of Hessenberg.
