Wedding Captives

Thea yanked her hand away from his and bolted for the exit. Single-minded, she pressed her fingertips against the glass. As soon as Lawrence had the sliding door open, Thea leapt through. For a moment, Spence thought she was going to kiss the wooden planks of the floor beside the gondola car. But Thea had already begun to recover her poise. She inhaled huge gulps of the thin mountain air. Fighting the shudders that vibrated her shoulders, she denied her panic. Her voice quavered as she announced to the others, “That wasn’t so bad.”

Through the gondola window, Spence saw Dr. Mona pat Thea’s forearm. “You did very well,” the doctor said. “It’s important to face your fears.”

“Fears?” Thea laughed semi-hysterically. “No fear. That’s what my kids say at school. No fear.”

Spence tucked his own suitcase under his arm and gathered up Thea’s luggage before exiting the gondola behind Reverend Josh and Travis. Silently, Spence wondered what other fears the weekend might hold in store for them.

As soon as he stepped outside the gondola, Thea grabbed the garment bag. “I’ll take that.” Her tone was overly bright. Her smile too wide. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to the bridesmaid dress.”

He nodded. Though he didn’t want to throw her back into terror, he already missed the closeness of her clinging to him for support.

“By the way,” she said, “thanks.”

“For what?”

Her eyes roamed wildly, showing too much white and avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t mean to grab you.”

“It’s okay. I liked it.”

She stiffened. Staring directly at him, she snapped, “Are you saying that you enjoyed the fact that I was scared out of my skull?”

“I was glad you trusted me enough to hold my hand.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It was only a reflex.”

As soon as she spoke, Thea realized how ungracious her comment sounded. She didn’t want to pick a fight with Spence. This was a wedding, supposedly a pleasant occasion, and she was well-prepared to stifle her own emotions rather than ruin the weekend for Jenny and her reclusive bridegroom.

Forcing what she hoped was a polite smile, Thea added, “But thanks anyway.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sometime during this weekend—sometime soon—she had to set down ground rules of behavior with Spence. The best solution was probably to ignore each other as much as possible. But how would she manage that? How could she ignore someone who was so solid and sexy and outrageously masculine?

When she’d clung to him like a drowning woman hanging on a buoy, a sneaky awareness had crept through her panic. She’d felt the strength in his grasp. Leaning against his shoulder wakened unwanted memories of previous intimacy.

She was saved from further contemplation by a loud “harrumph” from Lawrence who stood at the door to the gondola house trying to get an answer from the house on an intercom or radio of some sort. Obviously annoyed, he informed them, “There seems to be an unfortunate miscommunication. No one answers at the castle.”

“Well that’s just hunky-dory,” Travis snapped. “What do we do now?”

Frowning, Lawrence said, “I had expected to be met by a full contingent of staff, including a porter, but no one appears to be responding to our arrival. Ladies and gentlemen, would you mind carrying your own luggage?”

“No problem,” Thea said. Travis put on a sulk, but as her tension faded, she was actually glad for something physical and taxing to do. Whatever urge had compelled her to clamp onto Spence was past.

She fell into the single-file line as they hiked up a snow-packed, sanded path winding through the trees. Thea was next to last, and Spence brought up the rear. She could hear his footfalls behind her. She was aware of his measured breathing. He must be in good shape; he wasn’t huffing at all on this steep incline.

Of course, he’d be in excellent physical condition. She reminded herself that Spence Cannon was, perhaps, the most self-centered man on the planet. He would take care of himself.

The trees thinned. Suddenly, the castle came into full view. Magnificent! Thea halted and stared up at the walls of chiseled granite blocks that formed nooks and shadowed crannies, dark and mysterious as the storm clouds overhead. Nearest the path was a sculpted octagonal tower. The arched windows on the top story of the tower were lit from inside.

“That’s got to be the bridal suite,” Spence said. “The room with the sexy statues.”

“Jenny must be up there.” But why hadn’t she come down to greet them? Thea shook off a prickly sense of apprehension. More than likely, Jenny hadn’t heard their arrival. Or she was busy with her trousseau. After all, she’d pulled this wedding together in a matter of weeks. There must be dozens of last-minute details. “I should’ve come up here earlier to help her. It’s my job as a maid of honor.”

“I’m sure Jenny has everything under control,” Dr. Mona offered, showing no sign of exertion either. “She’s quite a capable young woman.”

“But look at this place! It’s huge. How could anybody manage?”

“With a staff of servants, dear,” Dr. Mona advised, tongue-in-cheek.

But surely, even with maids and a cook, the responsibility of taking care of a castle was daunting. It was so large that Thea couldn’t even clearly see the matching tower on the far end. The center section rose four stories high with a peaked Tudor-style roof above a stone Gothic entranceway. The mismatched architectural theme also included castellated battlements to mark the parapets and a minaret-style gatekeeper’s house by the front doorway. Some of the windows were arched, others were square. The mishmash of designs might have come from flipping through a Lifestyles of the Eccentric Rich and Famous catalog and choosing something from each page. “I wonder if the original structure was added to.”

“It seems likely,” Dr. Mona said. “Parts of it look Romanesque. Others are definitely Tudor.”

“I don’t care for the gargoyles,” the reverend said.

There was no chance to question Lawrence about the design. He was far ahead, chugging steadily up the hill toward an entrance behind the octagonal tower. Travis stayed close behind him, apparently unimpressed by his first up-close-and-personal view of the castle.

As they came closer to the entrance, the outdoor lights blazed to life, illuminating the stone walls.

“Wow!” Spotlights shining up from the ground gave the illusion that the massive structure was magically floating above the snow-covered cliffs.

“Must be somebody home,” Spence said, “to turn on the lights.”

“Of course,” Thea said. Yet, an aura of stillness clung to the granite walls as if the castle were an empty stage waiting for the players to enter and speak their lines.

Lawrence unlocked and opened a humble door beside a loading dock, and Travis bellowed, “Jenny! Get your booty down here, sis!”

Her booty? Thea forced a grin, trying to be tolerant. The slangy attitude of Jenny’s brother reminded her of her eighth-grade students. Though Travis had to be in his late twenties, he seemed like a kid—irresponsible and not a little bit wild.

Thea hiked the last steps to the side entrance and stepped inside a long coatroom with no windows. At the far end a ski rack housed several pairs of skis and boots in a various sizes. Along the adjoining paneled wall, wooden pegs served as hooks between several closet doors. There were even lockers. It all seemed odd to her, like a chalet at some ski resort.

Through an open door, she heard Lawrence exclaiming, “Utterly unacceptable!”

Thea, Spence, Mona and the reverend dropped their luggage and went toward the sound of Lawrence’s voice into a huge kitchen. Stainless-steel appliances shone amidst an array of marble countertops and butcher blocks. A giant hanging rack displayed copper pots and kettles. Though Thea wasn’t much of a cook, the kitchen impressed her.

“No one is here.” Lawrence emphatically stated the obvious. “No chef. No waitpersons. No one.”

Mona pulled open the door to a double-wide refrigerator which was packed with food. “At least there seems to be ample provisions.”

Disdainfully, Lawrence sneered, “I certainly hope I won’t be expected to prepare the meals.”

“Where’s Travis?” Spence asked.

Lawrence pointed toward a door at the far corner of the kitchen. “That’s the servants’ stairwell up to the bridal suite. He went to look for Jenny.”

“I think I’ll join them,” Thea said. She really couldn’t wait to see Jenny, and it seemed like the next logical thing to do. “I’m sure Jenny can tell us where the rest of the staff is hiding.”

Without invitation, Spence followed her into a narrow wooden stairwell that ascended in a sharp zigzag pattern. Every few feet, a single bare lightbulb, attached to the wall and encased in a wire cage, cast their shadows against stone and mortar walls.