The Spells of Paradise

Chapter 21: Speak Only Your Perfect Lies

Elizabeth offered her father one more smile before she did as she was told. She stepped out, a bright and happy jaunt to her step, while the Magistrate remained behind for a moment, pondering his words.

He later paced the study, wondering if he had made a bad mistake. Had he just gone against his own philosophies, telling his daughter about an uncertain outcome? Perhaps, in his own mad way, he had hoped that in telling her, the outcome would become that much more certain. It was a foolish mentality young men used to comfort their own egos. As it was, the Magistrate was no young man with a withering ego. He knew himself well enough, so why did he do this?

A movement to his left caused Magistrate Donaldson to jump, and he turned just in time to see Bertha Denning, the maid, slip into his study with a duster. The expression of surprise on her face showed that she had not expected him to be there.

"Oh!" She paused. "Magistrate, sir, you're still here."

He frowned at her. "Why wouldn't I be? This is my study, is it not?"

"Of course, sir," she bowed her head. "Shall I come later?"

"No," he shook his head. "No that will not be necessary, I will go," he made for the door.

Before he stepped out, however, Bertha's voice called him back.

"I'll not tell a soul either, sir," she said. "And I offer my congratulations to your daughter."

The Magistrate stiffened, and turned back to her. "You are a smart woman, Bertha. You should know to never speak of it again, or I will have you shackled and bound in prison before you can think twice."

With that, he stepped out of his study and marched down the hall, his hands clenched into fists.

That woman always seems to be in the best place at the best time. I'd better keep an eye on her.

How many eyes, though, were needed to watch the demons conspiring behind his back?

XXX

Belmoran Island

Lucy felt her hands shaking when the carriage carrying herself and Eliza headed up the paved pathway towards Shorewind Hall. She didn't dare look out the window, but temptation was pushing her to. She wanted to see the home that Ross had grown up in and now ran. So, when she finally relented and looked out the window, it was all she could do to keep her jaw from dropping.

Shorewind Hall was a clear rival for Dawn-Bridge, both in beauty and in size. She wasn't sure if she was in Belmoran or in the south of France, with the home's château style and renaissance themes. Lucy wondered for a minute if she had truly been thrown into a fairy tale. She had once seen a drawing of the Château de Valençay of the Loire Valley, and Shorewind Hall bore a great resemblance to it in the form of the north façade, which was designed in the most eclectic fashion Lucy had ever seen. She had noticed the gothic architecture from the Renaissance in some areas of London before, but Shorewind Hall's mix of French, gothic, and English architecture made it seem like it was on a level of its own.

On top of the stunning facades and the castle-like themes of the varying heights of the towers, the path leading up to the double stairs of the entrance circled around a sizeable fountain with an effigy of Poseidon wielding his trident as he burst from the tip of where the water of the fountain fell. Lucy almost twisted her neck while trying get a better look at it as they passed by.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Eliza was watching Lucy with a knowing smile. "I have been here so many times, but the house still never stops stealing my breath."

"This is the loveliest home I had ever seen!" Lucy shook her head, still dazed. "I had no idea Ross's family was so wealthy!"

"The Beauchamps were one of the first families to come to Belmoran over a hundred years ago," Eliza told her. "Ross's great-grandfather came from old money back in Portsmouth, and he brought the wealth with him here. Later, Ross's father, Henry Beauchamp, built on that, in what way I am not sure, but I do know that he had a thriving mercantile business. From what Sam told me, he had a theory that there could be a way to trade whale oil overseas with the oil that his whalers found in the seas nearby. Whale oil runs for a good price in America, especially Nantucket. Belmoran is actually known for scouring the caught whales for oil, packing it, and sending it overseas. Nowadays, though, the whalers take care of that rotten mess aboard their own ships! In any case, Henry Beauchamp ran that business from here and made good money off of it before he died."