Courting Carolina (34 page)

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Authors: Janet Chapman

BOOK: Courting Carolina
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“I think you might want to take along an extra shirt.”

Alec winced and started wiping the splatters of blood off his pants, hoping that what he couldn’t get off would blend in with the black fiber and not be noticeable.

“How have you been getting onto the resort without being seen?”

“Through the tunnels,” he said, twisting to check the side of one pant leg and wiping another spot. He stopped in midwipe, pulled the small plastic bag full of blond hair out of his hind pocket, and shot Nicholas another grin as he tossed it to him. “Ye can give that to the two guards from the other night and the one I tied up, so they can claim the pot of
money you put up for my scalp.” He shrugged again. “I only went after them to make ye think that’s how I was coming and going.”

“What tunnels?” Nicholas asked, tossing the bag on the counter.

Alec went back to cleaning his pants. “I suppose it’s hard to secure an area if no one bothers to mention there’s a labyrinth of tunnels right under your feet.” He looked up and grinned again. “And they’re not man-made. Mac followed Carolina’s blueprints exactly, conveniently cutting a couple of tunnels up from the fiord to run pipes to feed the saltwater swimming pools. Then there’s a mess of them running all over the top of the mountain between the hotels and cottages and outbuildings to feed heat pipes and power lines to the entire resort. Most are large enough for a man to walk upright,” he said with a shrug, “I assume to service the utilities as well as hide the mechanics.” He grinned again and shook his head. “I suggest someone put a lock on the grate down at the fiord, though, to prevent all manner of vermin from getting in here.”

Nicholas snorted and headed down the short hall off the living area. “I’ll be sure to put that in my résumé when I apply for the job of director of security.”

Near as Jane could tell, the entire indigenous population of Spellbound Falls and Turtleback Station, as well as seasonal camp owners, tourists lucky enough to be visiting the area this weekend, any number of curious Mainers willing to make the trek to the wilderness, and a small contingency of local and national news media, had been climbing off shuttle buses that had been carrying them up Whisper Mountain since noon. As they stepped off the buses, almost to a man, woman, and child, they would stand staring out at the Bottomless Sea more than two thousand feet below, then slowly turn in a circle trying to take in the breadth and scope of Nova Mare.

By nine that evening, it was standing room only in the
pool pavilion, the small conference center, one of the hotel segments and two of the cottages opened for display, and even the barn, as it appeared no one was in any hurry to leave. Although that probably had something to do with the unusually warm October night, as well as the picnic tables, camp chairs, and blankets that had been liberally distributed around the festively lit common green, along with tables laden with all manner of food and drink. Stronger libations were being handed out at stations strategically placed in the various venues, tended by servers Jane thought looked a lot like the crew from her parents’ home away from home, which happened to be the huge submarine hidden in a massive cave at the end of the fiord—not very far, actually, from Alec’s secret grotto.

Olivia was looking a bit overwhelmed, Jane decided as she handed her mother a second glass of wine then took a sip of her fourth glass; but then, this was her sister-in-law’s first time planning anything with Rana Oceanus—who happened to know a thing or two about throwing a party.

“I see you managed to cajole Johann into making an appearance,” Jane said to her mother, using her wineglass to gesture at Vienna’s nineteenth-century version of a rock star, dressed in his signature white lace shirt as he stood watching the quartet playing the very appropriate
Wein, Weib und Gesang
.

Rana arched a delicate brow into her wispy brown curls artfully arranged around her understated tiara—which was only slightly more jeweled than the smaller princess tiara Jane was wearing tucked in her dark curls cascading past her shoulders. “And just when have you known Strauss to turn down a chance to hear his compositions being played by Atlantean musicians?” Rana asked. She shook her head, her smile smug. “Or ignore a request from me to do so?”

Jane smoothed down her floor-length dress that also matched her mother’s except for being forest green instead of cobalt blue—both of their left arms fully sleeved and right arms and shoulders exposed—and looked around the room again. The private and more intimate ball taking place in the
banquet pavilion was slightly less crowded but no less festive thanks to both the musicians and the open bar set up in the corner. Mackie was sitting holding princess hugs-a-lot, trying to keep her from crawling across the table to reach his friends from Midnight Bay: Kenzie and Eve Gregor and their toddler son, William and Madeline Killkenny and their toddler son trying to crawl to Ella, and Trace Huntsman and his recent bride, Fiona, and their twin infant girl and boy.

William’s sister, Gabriella, and Rick Lane—who was also Maddy’s brother—had their arms twined around each other out on the dance floor, moving in only a semblance of rhythm to
Wine, Women, and Song
. Not that Rick appeared to care that Johann Strauss was a nineteenth-century rock star, since he only seemed interested in the ninth-century young lady in his arms. Henry, however, seemed rather perturbed that Olivia wasn’t intimately familiar with one of Strauss’s more popular waltzes, as well as rather determined to teach his step-mum the art of proper dancing.

Standing next to the bar, looking as uncomfortable in tuxedos as they were to be the only locals attending the private ball, the suitors Jane’s mother had personally invited kept giving Jane shy smiles—one of the men actually giving her a wink right after finishing off his second tankard of mead.

Rana leaned closer when she noticed where Jane was looking. “I really didn’t think they’d actually come,” she whispered. “But apparently mentioning I was worried you wouldn’t have anyone to dance with was enough incentive to bring them en masse.”

“He…I don’t think he’s coming, Mama,” Jane said, knowing her mother knew who she was talking about.

Rana reached out and clasped Jane’s free hand and gave it a squeeze. “He’ll be here.” She laughed softly. “He’s probably trying to figure out how to tie his tie.”

“Oh God, he probably doesn’t even own a tie, and he’s not coming because he doesn’t have anything to wear.”

Rana gave Jane’s hand another squeeze. “Alec didn’t exactly strike me as a man who would let the lack of proper clothing stop him from going after something he wants.”
Her eyes twinkled in the chandelier light. “He’s of highlander descent, so I wouldn’t put it past him to show up naked if he thought it would further his cause.”

“Where do you suppose Sir Garth and Niall are?” Jane asked, fighting a blush at the thought of Alec’s naked body as she looked around the ballroom. She gave a soft snort. “I can understand Niall dragging his feet, but when I saw Sir Garth this morning, he had such a triumphant gleam in his eyes that I was sure he’d be the first one here.”

“Maybe he’s not feeling quite so confident after seeing your father’s other guests arriving this afternoon,” Rana said, nodding at the table where Titus was sitting with several modern-dressed men and women, who were hanging on his every word.

Titus had invited some close acquaintances—most of them royalty—from various eras dating back as far as prebiblical times, not only to show off his son’s magically epic wonder, but to also encourage them to start going to Maximilian when they needed a theurgist to work out whatever problem they were having.

Her father sure wouldn’t ask them to come see
her
, Jane thought, covering up her snort by taking another drink of wine. Because what would a mere woman know about repairing some natural disaster, discovering why animals or crops were suddenly dying, or stopping some stupid, senseless war?

And that’s why William, Kenzie, Gabriella, and Fiona weren’t the only time travelers attending the ball, although they were the only ones permanently living in this century. That is, besides several of the MacKeages from Pine Creek sitting with Duncan and Peg at one of the other tables—clear across the room from Mackie.

Jane choked on her wine and grabbed her mother’s arm when Rana gasped just as a deafening clap of thunder suddenly rattled the floor-to-ceiling pavilion windows. The two women looked at each other and both broke into grins.

“Sweet Athena, I hope that was Sir Garth,” Jane said, “and not Niall.”

“It’s okay, everyone,” her mother said to the suddenly silent room. She laughed brightly and waved her wineglass toward the windows facing Bottomless. “It would appear the crew setting up the fireworks just ruined our midnight
surprise
.”

The quartet began playing again and the room quickly filled back up with chatter.

Jane watched Sam Waters break away from the gaggle of local men and limp toward her. Olivia’s father stopped and gave Rana a warmly smiled nod, then slid his gaze to Jane. “Would you care to dance with a gimpy old man, Carolina?” he asked, holding out his hand.

Jane handed her wineglass to her mom, took his hand, and let him lead her to a less populated section of the dance floor. “You’re looking quite the princess tonight…Jane,” he said, glancing up at the tiara in her hair as she set one hand on his shoulder and the other at his waist. He chuckled. “Which is intimidating your mother’s personally invited dance partners. They’ve all spent the last hour trying to pour enough liquid courage past their tonsils to work up the nerve to even walk over and speak to you. And poor Ray—he’s the one with the cane—is trying to figure out how to hold both it and you and dance at the same time.”

“When we’re done, you can walk me over and
I’ll
ask them to dance.” Jane winced. “It appears my manners are slipping, as I should have introduced myself to them long before now.”

Sam looked around, then pulled her a bit closer. “Alec came into town a few days ago and asked me to have a new identity ready for you by tonight. It’s—”

“Alec plans for us to run away?” she blurted in a whisper, her hand on Sam’s shoulder bunching his jacket. “Wait, how did he know you made my
first
identity?”

Sam snorted. “He’s known over a month. Apparently you tried to call me from his satellite phone the day after he rescued you, and he saw you’d called the trading post. He came to Inglenook to see me that night to find out what was going on.”

Jane faltered in midstep, making Sam stumble before catching himself. “The night he left me in the boat he went to see you? And the two of you have been making plans to help me run away again?” she said past the lump in her throat, wanting to weep at the realization that Alec wasn’t coming to the ball.

“I can’t rightly say what he’s planning, because the man’s always played his cards close to his vest.” Sam shrugged. “All I know is that he asked me to have a new identity for you ready to go tonight, but said it was only for in case plan A didn’t work out the way he hoped.”

“Only…one identity? Not one for him, too?”

“Just the one, Caro,” he said softly, his gray eyes troubled as he gave a slight shake of his head. “I’m guessing it’s because if plan A doesn’t fly, he’s figuring he…that he won’t be in any condition to run off with you.”

Jane stopped dancing.

Sam gave a quick glance around and started them dancing again, giving her a tender smile. “I’m betting you won’t need the new identity, though, as I’ve never known MacKeage to have to resort to a plan B. But,” he said on a heavy sigh, “if you do, then I swear this one is foolproof. Only in order for it to work, you’re going to have to lose that ankle bracelet. I’ve got you booked on a flight out of Bangor International Airport at nine tomorrow morning that’ll take you to Philadelphia, where you can pick any plane headed anywhere you want. I showed you how to get lost in a maze of flights the last time you disappeared. You remember how?”

Jane leaned closer, until her cheek was next to his. “I love you for caring enough to help me again, Sam, but I…I can’t leave. I was acting spoiled and selfish last time, and shirking my duty.”

“It’s not selfish to want to control your own life,” he growled, giving her waist a squeeze. “Don’t give up on Alec just yet, okay? Let’s see what plan A is before we—”

“Excuse me, but may I have this dance?” a gentleman asked, tapping Sam on the shoulder even as his gaze locked on a point somewhere past Jane’s head.

Sam sighed. “I told you to give me the whole dance, Nick,” he said, “
then
come over and cut in.”

Jane kissed Sam’s cheek and turned to the gentleman. “Introduce us, Sam.”

“Carolina, this is Nick Patterson. He owns Angie’s Bar and Grill in Turtleback Station. Nick, this is Princess Carolina Oceanus, and I know for a fact she’s disabled more than one misbehaving dance partner with those four-inch spikes she’s wearing, so be a gentleman or she’s going to make you a gimp like me and Ray.”

That certainly got Nick looking at her. Jane grabbed her apparently startled suitor and simply started dancing with him. “So, Nick, is it true Angie’s has strippers every first Friday of the month? And do you allow women to come to your bar on those nights?” She widened her smile when he snapped his eyes to her again and mutely nodded. “Without
them
having to strip?” she whispered, only to wince when he stumbled and stepped on her toe.

Sweet Athena, why had her mother invited so many local suitors, Jane wondered half an hour later after dancing with local number eight—and a half, if she counted only swaying back and forth with Ray Byram and his cane. But the only one she wanted to dance with had apparently stood her up.

Jane plastered another polite smile on her face and let herself be handed over to the guy cutting in, only to stumble when a familiar set of hands slid around her back and pulled her into a very familiar chest that deflated on a long sigh of satisfaction. “Christ, ye feel better than I remember,” he murmured against her ear as he used his chin to tuck her head against his. “Will ye tell me why in God’s name your mother invited so many dance partners for you? I hate waiting in lines.”

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