16. Hildy
Hildy
FOUR DAYS BEFORE THE PRESCOTT-SCHAFER WEDDING
BEYNAC, France—The Chateau de Beynac came into view long before they reached the village that shared its name.
The massive stone fortress towered above the surrounding landscape like a giant gargoyle.
You’d have to be a lunatic to storm those walls, Hildy reflected, hanging back as the rest of the group started their trek up the steep and twisting cobbled streets. Talk about picking your battles.
When she reached the castle, Hildy wandered past the wooden entrance gates to a grassy quadrangle bordered by watchtowers. A low stone wall marked the edge of the precipice, beyond which the landscape unfurled with a dramatic plunge. The view of the valley was even more spectacular from up here.
She was taking pictures for reference when someone approached, clearing his throat to alert her to his presence. Hildy knew it was Walter before she turned around. He’d obviously followed her; the only question was why.
“If you’re thinking of pushing me over the edge, fair warning. I will take you down with me,” she said, preemptively.
He came to stand beside her. Their eyes met, Hildy using hers to transmit a silent, well?
“Now why would I want to do that?”
“Eliminate the competition.”
“That would be cheating. I’d rather beat you on an even playing field.”
Hildy had other questions. Since when? Have you forgotten I know the real you? How does sucking up to Maude qualify as fair? But she contented herself with a small snort. “Okay, Mr. Honorable.”
She rubbed the spot between her eyebrows where she might be developing a matched set of wrinkles. It was too soon for Botox, but Hildy would not have said no to a magical plumping serum. Especially if she was going to be standing in bright natural light next to Walter Burns.
“Headache?”
“I’m fine. Just getting the lay of the land.” She moved away, pretending to read a placard explaining some significant historical event.
“I never thought I’d be in a place Richard the Lionheart visited,” Walter said, joining her.
“Is that what you’re going to write in your story?”
“I don’t know.” He sounded cagey, like he was regretting mentioning it. “Is that what you’re going to write?”
“No, I’m going to do a Freudian analysis of the male need to erect giant phallic towers all over the landscape.” There she went again, talking to Walter about dicks. Speaking of Freudian. Hildy took a cleansing breath. “It’s nice of Fiona and her family to plan all of this. The excursions.”
Walter didn’t respond right away. “Do you remember Carlee and Carlton’s wedding?”
Hildy considered denying it, but it was as much her memory as his. “Yep.”
“I always thought that’s the kind of ceremony I’d want.”
“Disney-themed?” she asked, distracted by the effort not to yell, Why are you thinking about weddings? He couldn’t marry Maude. Because of the cheating, obviously. Which Hildy still hadn’t told him about.
“I didn’t mean the costumes.”
She shrugged, out of guesses. It was too hard to think over the chorus of worry in her head.
What if I tell him and he doesn’t believe me?
What if I tell him and it turns out I’m wrong?
What if I don’t tell him and it ruins his life?
What does it mean that I don’t want that to happen? What kind of nemesis am I?
“Sincere,” Walter said, oblivious to her spiraling. “Down-to-earth. More about the people than the trappings.”
“I don’t know. These trappings are pretty sweet.” She gestured at the panoramic view, as if she could physically redirect their conversation onto safer ground. “Not your average beach resort. It’s so cool how there’s another castle everywhere you turn.”
“Very cool,” he agreed, looking ever so slightly suspicious of her sudden interest in architecture.
“You’d think they’d want privacy,” Hildy continued. “To rule over their own little domain.”
“Probably they were more worried about controlling water access and trade routes.” He pointed at the confluence of two rivers in the valley below. “Since they weren’t building these places as vacation homes.”
Right. God forbid ye olden times people have an appreciation for leisure. “It’s still weird they could stare into each other’s windows. Or shoot a flaming arrow.” She pretended to hold a bow, adding a whooshing sound effect as her imaginary projectile took flight.
“Maybe that was the point. Keeping tabs on each other.”
“Like helicopter parents,” she suggested. “Before they had AirTags and social media.”
“A medieval mother-in-law.”
“Crazy stalker ex.”
An uncomfortable silence descended. Way to make it awkward, Hildy silently congratulated herself. You couldn’t just riff a little; it had to be a record scratch.
“I’d build a castle next to yours,” he said, as if that were a casual thing to drop into a conversation.
“To spy on me? Steal my shipments of grain? Launch a sneak attack when I least expect it?”
“Or maybe it would just be a mind game.”
“Then I’d build a moat. Filled with piranhas.”
“I’d get a catapult,” he countered.
Unfortunately, Hildy had exhausted her knowledge of siege tactics. But she wasn’t about to let him win. “You can’t arrange your whole life around me.”
“It’s a little late for that.”
Speaking of catapults! What kind of remark was that to launch at someone? “What are you talking about?”
“Forget it.” His jaw tightened, but she’d always had a knack for sneaking past Walter’s defenses.
“That’s why you started writing about weddings, isn’t it? You knew it was one of our top-performing features and you wanted to steal my thunder.”
“No, I started writing about weddings because you told me they made great stories. And I wanted to get out of tabloids because I could tell you thought I was a gutter crawler!”
“You can’t be serious!” She preferred not to think about how many choices she’d made over the years with Walter’s voice in the back of her mind.
“Yes, I can! It’s—” He broke off without finishing.
“Were you about to say, ‘it’s a free country’? But then you remembered we were in a different country?”
“France is also a free country,” he grumbled, which was not a denial.
Weird how she could read his mind sometimes and at others find herself totally in the dark about what he was thinking.
His mouth twitched in what looked like a reluctant smile. An answering expression started to bloom on her face, but luckily a gust of wind blew her hair forward before he could see. Or maybe it wasn’t lucky, because now Walter was smoothing her curls away from her eyes.
“We should go find them,” she chirped, pivoting away from his searching gaze.
“Who?”
“Our people. The rest of the group. Fiona and Robbie.”
Walter looked puzzled at this change in Hildy’s MO. It wasn’t like her to cut their alone time short. She’d always been Team Prolong the Agony, but not anymore. She was evolving so hard right now. Boss Mode activated.
“You got what you needed?” He took a step back, gesturing at their surroundings, and Hildy remembered she was supposed to be doing research.
“Yes.” She hoped it sounded more convincing to his ears. “You?”
Walter hesitated. “I’m not sure there’s anything more to get.”
She refused to give him the satisfaction of asking what he meant.
“I don’t see why we can’t have the wedding here,” Mr. Prescott was saying to Fiona as Hildy approached.
He had selected an even higher spot on the battlements, where the chest-high stone walls were topped with square bricks that protruded like jack-o’-lantern teeth.
“Or over there.” He pointed across the river. “There are plenty of castles.”
“Daddy,” Fiona chided, “those are other people’s castles. We can’t just barge in and ask to get married. Besides, Maude put so much work into her castle. I don’t want to ruin her big reveal.”
“I’m just saying this is a real fortress.” Mr. Prescott made a fist, like he too was a pillar of strength. “You don’t hear anyone making a fuss about historic preservation here.”
“I think Fiona is looking for something more subtle,” Hildy said, in the soothing tone she’d perfected over a lifetime of managing her uncle. “Arboreal. Secluded. Romantic. Bewitching.”
At some point during her speech, Walter must have snuck up behind her. His voice was practically in her ear when he felt the need to comment, “That’s a lot of words.”
“I know some other ones,” she replied, matching his confidential murmur. “Overbearing. Busybody. Buttinski.”
“What do you think of it?” Mr. Prescott asked Walter. “Our castle.”
“I haven’t seen it yet,” Walter admitted.
That had to hurt. Hildy made a pouty face of mock sympathy, even though she was tap-dancing on the inside. Walter pretended not to notice.
“But I have full faith in Maude’s abilities,” he told her father.
“Good answer.” Mr. Prescott nodded his approval. “Do you think this place has a dungeon?” It was clearly an invitation. To Hildy’s surprise, Walter gave a sigh of regret.
“I should stick with the bride and groom. Duty calls.”
“Fair enough.” After a manly pat on the shoulder for his favorite reporter, Mr. Prescott headed back inside.
Hildy sidled over to Fiona and Robbie before Walter could get there. “How’s your day going?”
“Majestic!” Robbie said. “I wish I had a pet eagle.”
“But you’d want it to be free,” Fiona pointed out.
“That’s true, babe. You think of everything.”
They really were well suited. Hildy felt a stab of envy. It must be nice to find someone you really and truly clicked with, as opposed to a fair-weather faux-boyfriend. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard the story of how you two met.”
“Believe it or not, we are actual childhood sweethearts.” Fiona beamed at Robbie. “Met at tennis camp when we were kids, didn’t find each other again until the summer after college.”
Hildy did the math a couple of times to make sure she had it right. “So … last year?”
“When you know, you know,” Robbie said, as if it were that simple.
Far be it from Hildy to argue with a besotted groom, but she had her doubts on that front. Sometimes what you thought you knew turned out to be a delusion that you spent the next decade trying to shake.
“It’s like the best of both worlds.” Fiona sounded like a real estate agent trying to sell Hildy a timeshare. “All the newness of falling in love, but with this built-in comfort, like you’ve known each other forever.”
“Because you have!” Robbie held up his hand for a high five, which somehow transitioned to rubbing their noses together while whispering endearments.
Corinne joined them in time to hear the end of the story. “Don’t get weird and spoil their moment.”
“Why would she get weird?” Fiona asked, pulling away from her fiancé.
“About the childhood sweethearts thing.” Corinne looked like she wanted to take a flamethrower to the words as soon as they were out, but it was too late.
Fiona turned wide eyes on Hildy. “You don’t believe in it?”
“She’s had some issues in that area,” Corinne replied for her.
“Did you break up?” Fiona pressed. “With your childhood sweetheart? Is it hard for you to be here right now?”
Hildy double-checked to make sure Walter was out of hearing range. “I’m thrilled to be here! Loving every minute. And I wouldn’t say childhood.”
“Emotionally they were children,” Corinne translated. “But it was a very different scenario.”
“Nothing like you and Robbie,” Hildy assured her. “You guys are golden.”
“Oh, good.” Fiona exhaled in relief. “I was afraid you were going to say it wasn’t real. That there’s no such thing as a bond that can last your whole life, even if you don’t see each other for years.”
“Hildy is the last person who would tell you that.” Corinne clapped Hildy on the shoulder, reminding her to smile.
Fiona shook herself. “That sounded super insecure, didn’t it? Sometimes it feels like this wedding is a highway with cars zooming everywhere and Robbie and me are trying to walk across it, you know?”
“Totally normal. I’ve seen a lot of weddings and there is always a ton of pressure on the couple. You’re doing great.” Hildy squeezed Fiona’s right hand so as not to impale herself on the massive engagement ring.
Fiona blushed prettily. “That’s nice of you to say. But you could tell me if there was something you know that I don’t. It’s better than getting hit with a nasty surprise, you know?”
“Of course,” Hildy assured her, with what she hoped was a wise nod.
The words “nasty surprise” played over and over in her head, as if Fiona had stepped on a reverb pedal.
She had to tell Walter the truth. It would almost certainly blow up in her face, considering how poorly frank conversations had worked out for them in the past, but at least her conscience would be clear.
Clear-ish, anyway.