For the next two weeks Jillian felt she was living a Cinderella story with her handsome prince. They docked his yacht at a marina in St. Thomas and spent most days exploring it as well as the islands of St. Croix and St. John. They had exotic meals and danced to the rhythm of the bands and strolled in the moonlight on the beach. They visited shops and tourist attractions. They even went snorkeling. When they returned to the yacht in the evenings, they relaxed on the deck and drank champagne and fruity drinks and talked of unimportant things.
Quinton was attentive and made love to her almost every night. It seemed to get better and better. He told her it was because she was becoming more relaxed and uninhibited. She didn’t know about that, because she still blushed when he teased her or when he made sexual remarks during the day. He told her that her daytime shyness was endearing. She began to feel glad she had married this man. Even if it was a business deal.
When they returned to Ft. Lauderdale, the company plane whisked them away to Ashville. Gilda, the same brunette attendant, looked at Jillian as if she couldn’t believe Quinton would settle for a middle-aged and a little bit overweight woman to be his wife. Though Quinton didn’t take her to the bedroom on this trip, he did hold her in his arms on the small sofa in a private section of the plane. It gave Jillian some comfort when the attendant bit her lip as she served them drinks.
Jillian smiled sweetly and the attendant smiled back, though there was no friendliness in it. There was no doubt that it was forced.
The limo and the same driver were waiting for them when they landed. Quinton took her arm as they walked to the car. The driver opened the door. “It’s good to have you home, sir. You too, Mrs. Kincade.”
“Thank you, Calvin,” Quinton said.
Jillian smiled and climbed into the car. Quinton followed her, and immediately put his arm around her when they were seated. It was only a few minutes until the luggage was put in the trunk and Calvin pulled out of the parking area.
“I’m nervous, Quinton.” Jillian reached for his hand.
“You don’t have to be. The staff knows you’re the lady of the house. No matter what you want or need, ask for it and it’ll be fetched for you. I pay them well and they’re eager to keep their jobs.”
“You know I’ve never had maids or such.”
“I know. Think of them as paid employees because that’s what they really are. They come and go just like on any other job. Melba and Bertram have been with me the longest. They met here about thirty years ago and fell in love. After they married they stayed with the family, and we’re lucky to have them.”
“I think that’s sweet.”
He took a deep breath. “Willard Blessing, the gardener, has been with me about twenty-five years, but most of the others have changed fairly frequently.”
“How many people are on your staff?”
“Besides Melba and Bertram Nelson, who have an apartment off the kitchen, there are two or three more live-in staff. There’s Calvin Hines the driver. He has a helper who comes in occasionally, but mostly he drives for me. He has an apartment over the garage. Gloria Redwine is a maid. She’s Melba’s niece, and has rooms in the lower section of the house. The gardener is full time, but he lives in a house on the back of the grounds. There are other day-maids and garden helpers who come in to work when needed. I’m sorry to say I don’t know all of them. I leave it to Melba and Bertram to do most of the hiring and I trust their judgment.”
“You’re a very rich man aren’t you, Quinton?”
“Yes I am, Jillian. Now you’re a very rich woman because you’re my wife.”
“I’m going to try to get used to that. It may take me a while.”
“That’s fine with me.” He hugged her close. “In the next six months or so I expect Gordon to pop in to see who I married. Don’t be surprised at anything he does or says. My brother may be a little surly. He didn’t expect my father to leave complete control of the stores to me.”
“Oh, my. Does he know about the will making you get married?”
“Only three people know about the will. You, John Von Cannon and me. Even the man who drafted the will died a few weeks ago. All anyone else knows is that you and I met a couple of months ago, fell in love at first sight, and now we’re married.”
“Good. That’s what I’ll tell Fran when I talk to her. I don’t know anyone else who would care.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “My daughter lives in Europe, but she may come over to meet you, before too long. I think you’ll like her. I love her, but she and I have never been very close. I’m sure she’ll like you because she was afraid I’d end up marrying someone her age. Someone after my money.”
“I don’t think you ever told me your daughter’s name.”
“Pamela.” He grinned. “She’s in charge of one of the fashion houses in Rome. She thinks my stores are not up to par with her taste.”
Jillian looked at him and wondered what kind of relationship he had with his daughter. She knew if she’d had a daughter their relationship would be a good one.
The limo pulled up to a huge ornate iron gate. The driver punched in a code and the gate swung open. They wound around a long paved drive and then the house came into view. Jillian gasped. She’d visited Biltmore House and Estate in Asheville, North Carolina once before, and she thought this place was just as impressive, if not as big. It was three stories and made of rock. It twisted into a misshapen “L” shape and it seemed to go on forever. There were turrets, and gables, and steeples. The limo turned from a paved road to a cobblestone drive which circled around an ornate cultivated formal garden flanking the front of the home. The driver stopped at the steps that led to the front door.
Jumping out, Calvin opened the car door and stood back as Quinton followed Jillian out of the car. “Welcome home,” Quinton whispered in her ear as he took her hand and led her up the steps to the huge wooden door. Jillian had a sudden thought. Did this castle have a dungeon?