Oddly, the only way out of the library is the way in. We backtrack through the dining room, and my mouth waters to see servants bringing in large tureens of soup and trays of crusty bread.
“Hungry?” she asks.
“Starving.”
“Good. We’ll come back in a few minutes after the tour and have some lunch.”
My belly clenches at the thought of eating with the family, though. She must see the hesitation on my face. “On second thought, let’s bring a tray upstairs?”
I nod and sigh in relief. “Please. I need a few minutes.”
“It’s all a bit much,” she murmurs. “But you’ll adapt. I can tell you will.”
Does she want me here because in her mind I’d be a sister-in-law? Will she be disappointed when I don’t choose to marry one of them?
Or does she have another motive as well? I don’t really trust any of them.
“Now,” she says in a low voice. “This is a good time to give you the tour of the North Wing of the house. We don’t typically bring guests there, because it’s where we have the staff room, the war room, the kitchen, and a few secret rooms my brothers use for meetings.”
Not secret anymore?
“Still,” she says. “It’s one of the best parts of the house.”
We walk past the kitchen, and I imitate the way she walks, with her head held high as if we’re not out of place here at all.
“Here,” she says with a flourish, tracing the edge of some heavy woodwork with her fingertip. A hidden doorway? My mouth drops open when a door seems to appear as if by magic.
“You sure this isn’t Hogwarts?”
She grins. “Magical, isn’t it?” The heavy scent of cigar smoke and whiskey permeates the air.
“Ok so this is a man cave to beat all man caves.”
Marialena nods. “Ooooh, yeah. You could say that.”
It holds a heavy desk, solid chairs, and a table, though no electronics. “It’s more of a study, though, isn’t it?”
She nods.
My curiosity rises. If she wasn’t here, I’d be Googling on my phone as fast as possible.
“Down here’s the secret wine cellar. It’s not a secret now, but was during an earlier time. No one knew it was here when the Montavio family owned this house, but we discovered it when my parents bought it.”
There’s a story there. I wonder what it is.
“Interesting. Why a secret wine cellar? I mean, the dining room looks as if your family definitely enjoys their wine.”
“Secret passages were built into castles for the wealthy,” she explains. “Royalty, aristocrats, and the rich had tunnels and rooms for escape or stealth operations. Rumor has it that my great-great-grandfather had this room built because he continued to import wine during Prohibition.”
“Ahh. Sneaky.”
She turns a key, and a wooden panel gives way to another doorway. I shake my head. There are any number of secrets built into this house. If the walls could talk…
We hear voices behind us. Looking over my shoulder, she quickly locks the door and replaces the key with a furtive glance. “Let’s go. No need to rile up my father any more than he’s already been riled up today.” She rolls her eyes. “Trust me.”
If I never see her father again, I’d be happy. I follow behind her.
We quickly walk back through the kitchen to the dining room and exit down an imperial set of marble stairs that leads to another large, arched doorway. I could sit for hours and take in every detail, from the hunter green ivy that adorns some of the east-facing windows, to the pots of flowering plants gathered on tables, to the stained glass that decorates various windows throughout the house.
“And this, I think you’re going to like,” she says with a whimsical glint in her eyes. She trots down the stairs and I click behind her in my heels.
We step inside an archway, and I gasp. “No way,” I whisper. “Are you kidding me?”
“I was like sixteen years old before I was allowed in this part of the house,” she says. I can see why. There’s an actual pool inside The Castle.
Laughter echoes inside The Castle, deep and masculine. I wonder if he’s there.
Why do I care? I look back to the pool.
Shaped like a shield, it’s surrounded by an iron fence with a gate that I suspect wouldn’t keep out curious toddlers. I don’t blame her mother for not wanting children nearby. But for others, this is astounding.
Stone archways let in plenty of natural light, and the potted plants that line the perimeter almost give the courtyard the appearance of being outside. I look up, and up, and up. The ceiling keeps the elements out, but a large skylight lets even more light filter in.
I shake my head. “Do you actually swim here?”
“Of course,” she says with a shrug. “The ocean’s cold for most of the year, but this is heated.” I look beyond the arched windows and see the blue tint of ocean waves far beyond.