The twinkle in his eyes turned wicked for a second, but he let go of my hand and stepped back. “When can you meet me?”
“She’s only helping me for an hour.” I rubbed my still-tingling palm. “Can you meet me in the ballroom when she’s gone?”
“I’ll be overseeing the crew finishing up in the garden. Text me when she’s gone.” Coop leaned forward. I thought he was going to kiss my cheek again, but he whispered in my ear. “There’s a full moon tomorrow night.” The warmth of his minty breath sent a shiver down my spine. “Maybe another midnight picnic?” He kissed my cheek, then turned and jogged away.
With a sigh, I watched him until he disappeared around the north end of the castle. I scanned the grounds, taking it all in. Workers bringing Mom’s layout to life. Dad directing the boys as they carried pots of plants full of red, white, and blue flowers that Coop had arranged. His parents setting up the giant chess set while trying to keep Mellie from climbing the pieces.
Another midnight picnic. Contentment filled me. I smiled like an idiot standing in the middle of a group of bustling people. I realized then I’d never been happier in my life.
Mom called my name. Girding up my metaphorical loins, I hurried over to join her.
“You look like the cat that got the canary,” she said, glancing the way Coop had gone.
“Just really happy, Mom.” I hugged her. It seemed to surprise her, but she returned it. When I started to pull away, she held me a little tighter before letting me go.
“I’m glad, baby.” My mom’s eyes glistened. She glanced at the flower in my hair but didn’t mention it. “You nervous?”
“A little, but excited too.” I tried not to think about a possible ghostly assault and pulled the phone from my pocket to access the checklist she’d emailed me. “I already have the cart loaded and waiting for us.”
“Let’s get to work.” She signaled to some of the temp help and led the way. “What do you think about having it in the library next year—after an elevator’s installed?”
“That would be perfect,” I said. “With the bookcases and paintings, it’d be so much more intimate.”
Mom sent her workers to bring in the carts. She and I brainstormed while dressing the tables. Finally, she glanced at her watch, clapped her hands, and told her workers to head outside again. She paused for a second, taking in the room.
“Just imagine what we can do with this place for the holidays,” she said.
“A Yule Ball.” I breathed out the words as plans flooded my mind.
“Yes. With a formal dinner. I like it. You know, events held here could be really good for the village economy. Think of getting your hair done there or picking up your gown or tux in one of the shops.” She checked her watch again. “Don’t forget to take pictures when you’re done.” Mom followed her crew, leaving me to put the finishing touches on the tables.
Upon completion, I surveyed the room. The size of it took away from the intimacy, but we’d overcome some of that by using decorative screens to divide the room. The formal dining room in the east tower probably would have made a better room choice, but Mom had turned it into her staging area for the outside events.
“Hey,” Coop said from the doorway where he leaned against the jamb, his arms folded across his chest.
How long had he been there watching me?
“What do you think?” I clutched my hands. “Another time it’d be fun to give each table a literary theme. You know, like anAlice in Wonderlandtable or anAnne of Green Gablestable. Maybe a princess table.”
“Mellie would love a princess table.” He straightened. “I like that you’re thinking of a future here.”
With one corner of his mouth curved up, he examined each of the table settings. I’d worked hard to make each one unique, an eclectic blending of old fashioned and modern. All of them included flowers from Coop’s garden.
“Classy. If the food is half as good as the ambience, you’ll have a hit.” He glanced at his watch and took my hand. “We need to hurry. Your dad asked for my help. Come on.”
He led me to the library. We stopped in front of the portrait of Sir Hugh and his children.
“I think it’s her.” He pointed to the little girl in the picture.
“But I saw aman,” I said.
“That’s not what I mean. I think what’s keeping Sir Hugh here is related to his daughter. She died when she was seven.”
“Mellie’s age.” I scrutinized the picture more closely.
“Yep. She was a lot younger than her older brother. The record I found says Hugh was devoted to her. She was feisty but sickly.” He shot me a knowing sidelong glance.
“Again, like Mellie. She’s never acted like she’s afraid of him. Could he be staying because of her?”
