Chapter 13
T he next morning, Felicity headed downstairs to help Gran with breakfast. And if she happened to see Brent too, so much the better. The scent of yeast and cinnamon surrounded her as she hurried down the stairs. Smelled like Gran’s cinnamon rolls.
When she entered the kitchen, Gran was pulling out a fresh batch of rolls. She’d been right. “Morning, Gran.”
“Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?”
“I did. But no matter how early I get up, you’re always up before me.” She went over and kissed Gran’s cheek.
“Years of running a B&B. The mornings are my busiest time.”
She grabbed an apron and started helping Gran ice the cinnamon rolls. They worked side by side like they had so many times before. The familiarity of the routine soothed her. She could get used to this.
“Oh, Gran. I forgot to tell you last night, Brent found out more information about Prince Lawrence. It seems he came to the island regularly. Then he did some research into the whole sister island thing that some of the islands had going on back then. Regular visits were unusual. There was usually just one big ceremonial gathering. Brent thinks maybe Lawrence kept coming back to visit someone. Maybe he was involved with someone here on the island?”
Gran’s expression was unreadable as she paused, the frosting knife hovering over a roll.
“What’s wrong, Gran?”
“Nothing, dear. It was all so long ago. I’m sure it doesn’t matter much now.” Gran’s tone was slightly dismissive, but there was a hint of something else beneath the surface.
She frowned. This wasn’t like Gran at all. Usually, she loved to talk about the island’s history. “I thought you enjoyed learning about Magnolia Key’s past as much as I do.”
Gran sighed, setting down her knife. “I do. It’s just… sometimes the past is better left where it is.”
“But don’t you think it’s strange? A prince from some tiny country visiting our little island so often?” She pressed, her curiosity aroused by Gran’s reluctance.
“People have their reasons for the things they do. Maybe he just really liked it here.” Gran’s words sounded convincing, but her eyes told a different story.
She knew her grandmother well enough to recognize when she was holding something back. “Gran, if you know something about Prince Lawrence and his visits, you can tell me. I promise I won’t share it with anyone, not even Brent, if you don’t want me to.”
Gran hesitated, clearly torn. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, shaking her head. “It’s not my story to tell. Please, just let it be.”
She wanted to push further, but the pleading look in Gran’s eyes stopped her. She nodded slowly, respecting her grandmother’s wishes. “All right, Gran. I won’t ask again.”
“Thank you, dear.” Gran’s shoulders relaxed, and she picked up her frosting knife once more. “Now, let’s finish these rolls before our guests wake up, hmm?”
She followed suit, but her mind was bursting with thoughts. What could Gran possibly know about Prince Lawrence that she didn’t want to share? And why did she seem so uncomfortable talking about it? It wasn’t like Gran to hide something from her.
As they worked in silence, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this story than met the eye. She glanced at Gran, noticing the faraway look in her eyes, as if she were remembering something from long ago.
Felicity’s curiosity burned, but she had to respect Gran’s wishes. Still, she wondered about the mysterious prince who had once walked these very same halls of the Bayside Bed and Breakfast.
After breakfast, Felicity met up with Brent. She wanted to tell him about how Gran was acting strangely this morning, but she thought that was an invasion of Gran’s privacy. Although she hated keeping anything from Brent. Especially something about the very prince they were looking into. What could Gran possibly know about something that happened before she was even born?
“You ready to head to Dale’s?” Brent asked, picking up his satchel stuffed full of his research.
But now, she didn’t know how she felt about researching Lawrence. Especially if Gran thought it was a secret that should stay in the past. But she’d promised Brent she would help him. “Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go.”
They strolled down the sidewalk toward Second Finds, their footsteps in sync. The morning sun warmed her face as a gentle breeze carried the scent of salt and blooming flowers. Her mind churned with conflicting thoughts about their research and Gran’s.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” he said, glancing at her with a concerned look. “Everything okay?”
She forced a smile. “Just thinking about what we might find today.” And Gran’s strange reaction this morning. But she didn’t tell him that.
As they walked, her gaze wandered over the familiar storefronts. The hardware store where she’d bought a bicycle bell for her first bike. Gran had patiently taught her to ride until finally, one day, she’d mastered it and taken off, flying down the driveway of the B&B. And there was the ice cream parlor where she and Gran had gotten countless ice cream cones and consumed them walking along the boardwalk. Each place held a memory, tying her to this island in ways she was only now beginning to appreciate.
Brent’s voice pulled her from her reverie. “I was thinking we could focus on the years between 1922 and 1928 today. That seems to be when Prince Lawrence’s visits were most frequent.”
She nodded, still uncertain about this whole research into the prince.
They rounded the corner, and Second Finds came into view. Colorful flags fluttered out front, advertising antiques and local history.
Brent held the door open for her. The familiar scent of old books and polished wood surrounded them. Dale looked up from behind the counter, his face lighting up with a warm smile.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite historical detectives,” he said, setting aside the book he’d been reading. “Back for more clues about our mysterious prince?”
She felt a stab of guilt. Should she even be pursuing this if Gran seemed uncomfortable with it? But Brent’s enthusiasm was infectious, and she found herself nodding along.
“I’m glad you’re here again. I found another box with photos from that era, and I put it on the table in the back room.”
“Thanks.”
They headed toward the back room and settled at the table. Brent opened the book and started looking through the photos, flipping each one over to see if anything was written on the backs.
She reached in to get a batch of photos and found an old book. She pulled it out, trailing her finger along the spine. “Look at this.” The faded book was titled Magnolia Key: A History in Pictures .
As she opened the book, a loose photograph fluttered to the floor. She bent to retrieve it and turned it over. There on the back in scrolling penmanship someone had written: Prince Lawrence’s third visit.
Brent leaned over closer to her. “His third visit, huh? I wonder just how many times he came to visit. And when he stopped coming so often.”
“You’d think a prince would be busy back in his own country, wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe he became king of his country? Too busy to come back? I still think my idea that he was interested in some woman here on the island was why he kept returning. Of course, that’s just a wild guess, but it makes sense.”
And that also made sense that Gran knew something about it and didn’t want the secret to come out. But why? And who?
Dale walked into the room. “Any luck finding anything else?”
“We found a photo of Lawrence. It says it was from his third visit,” she said, handing Dale the photo.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Brent said as he opened his satchel and pulled out a photo. “I have this old photo of my mother. I have no idea where she was, but there is a lighthouse in the background. Haven’t had time to really research it, but I did find out her family was from this area originally.” He handed it to Dale.
Dale took a close look at it and a smile spread across his face. “Yep, I sure can identify this lighthouse. It’s our lighthouse here on the island. Or it was. I’ve seen old photos of it. A storm came in and damaged it, and it was rebuilt stronger, so it no longer looks like this. But it’s ours. Let me find you a photo.”
Dale walked over to a shelf, pulled out a box, and brought over a handful of photos, handing them to Brent.
Brent’s eyes widened as he looked through them. “It is the same lighthouse. I can’t believe my mother was here on this very island. I wonder if she was just visiting. Or do you think she might have even lived here?”
“I don’t know.” Dale grinned. “Looks like you’ve got yourself even more research to do.”