Part 4 (1/2)

”I think I'd like to pay them tribute,” Jane said.

”If you wish,” Roth said. Smiling, he turned to lead the way out of the castle. ”Although, I will warn you.”

”What's that?” Sloan asked.

”On a day like today, with a fog settling over the graves, people have been known to see ghosts wandering about.”

Sloan looked at Jane. ”That's okay. We'll take our chances.”

Chapter 4.

The old chapel had been brought over to the States from Wales, Roth explained as they left via the rear, out through the kitchen's delivery doors.

Jane was curious that he had chosen to leave by this route. If she remembered right, there were other exits, more elegantly designed, leading to the wilds of the rear and the cliffs that overlooked the sea.

Chef and his two cooks were no longer sitting at the table imbibing in coffee and Jameson's, she noted as they went through. They were all busy at some kind of prep work. She a.s.sumed that the employees ate dinner at the castle as well since they didn't need that much prep for four guests and the master of the house, who they hadn't expected to be there anyway.

Chef Bo looked up from his work at a saucepan and acknowledged Roth and stared broodingly at the others as they went through.

His two a.s.sistants just watched.

”There's another way out as well. The two arches at the end of the Great Hall lead to smaller halls that bypa.s.s this area,” Roth explained. ”And there's a servants stairway back there, too. I just thought it would be fun to see what was going on in the kitchen.”

He was almost like a child who knew that he was in charge, and was yet surprised by it and curious as to his effect on others.

”Smells divine!” he called as they pa.s.sed.

Three ”thank yous” followed his words.

There was a large doorway under a sheltered porte-cochere when they stepped outside. Most likely, parking for large delivery trucks. They walked around one of the walls and were in the back. An open-air patio, set on stone, offered amazing views of the Atlantic Ocean. A light fog swirled in a breeze and seemed in magical motion, barely there. A fireplace, stocked with dry logs, remained ready for those who came out to enjoy the view when it was cool, and Jane imagined they might hold barbecues out there too. Bracken grew around the patio with wild flowers in beautiful colors. Other than the patio and the chairs, if one stood on the cliff and looked out or up at the rise of the castle walls, they might have been in a distant land and in a different time.

But Jane looked to her right.

At the base of a little cliff that rose to another wild and jagged height, was the chapel. It was surrounded by a low stone wall. Within the wall were numerous graves and plots. The chapel had been built in the Norman style with great rising A-line arches and a medieval design. Two giant gargoyles sat over the double wooden doors that led inside.

”Sometimes,” Roth said, ”I do feel just a bit like a medieval lord. Pity it's far too small and dangerous here for a joust.”

”It's really lovely,” Jane said.

”Yes, and I'm a lucky man,” Roth said. ”Primogeniture and all. The oldest son gets everything. Of course, in my case, I was the only child. If I do have children, I'll change things, that's for sure.”

Somewhat surprised, Jane looked at Sloan.

Was that for real? If so, he seemed like a pretty decent guy.

She smiled.

There was that wonderful part of their relations.h.i.+p that seemed like an added boon. The ability to look at one another and know that they shared a thought.

”Shall we head toward the chapel?” Roth asked.

He stood a bit down on a slant from them. He wasn't really that small a man, probably about six feet even. But Sloan seemed to tower over him. Jane was five-nine and in flats, but with his Renaissance-poet look, Roth somehow seemed delicate and fragile.

”Thanks. We'd love to see it,” Sloan said.

They followed him to the stone wall. There was a gate in the center and a path that led to the chapel. The gate wasn't locked. It swung in easily at Roth's touch and they followed him. He kept on the stone path and headed directly to the chapel where the door was also unlocked.

”You're not worried about break-ins of any kind?” Sloan asked him.

”Maybe I should be. I guess people do destroy things sometimes just for fun. But Mr. Green is always at his place. He hears anything that goes on. He only looks old. Trust me, he's deceptively spry. Caught me by the ears a few times when I was a kid. Guests here are welcome to use the chapel and the only way up here is by the road, so I guess it was just never kept locked. Progress, though. Maybe I'll have to in the future. It's really kind of a cool place. You'll see. Simple and nice.”

It was indeed. Tiffany windows displayed the fourteen Stations of the Cross along the side walls, each with its own recessed altar. The high arches were clean and simple and there were five small pews set before the main altar. A large marble cross rose behind the altar.

”Actually, there's a time capsule in here,” Roth told him. ”Emil, who brought the castle over, is under the main altar with his wife. Their children are scattered along the sides. Sometimes, of course, the daughters moved away, but there are a good fifty people buried or entombed just in the chapel. But you want our own Roth family Romeo and Juliet. Over there-first altar. Come on.”

His footsteps made a strange sound as he hurried along the stone floor. Sloan and Jane followed. There were six altar niches along each side of the structure. Someone had obviously been a stickler for symmetry. The first, closest to the main altar, had a window that depicted Judas's betrayal of Christ. The altar beneath it was adorned with a large silver cross. On exact angles from the prayer bench below the altar were two marble sarcophagi or tombs. One was etched simply with a name. John McCawley. The other bore just a first name. Elizabeth. Beneath her name was a tribute. Daughter; the rose of our lives, plucked far too swift, and we left in life, adrift. In Spring she lived, in Spring she remains. There 'til our own sweet release, 'til this life on earth for all shall cease. Beloved child, we'll meet again, where sorrows end and souls remain.

”It sounds as if she was deeply mourned,” Jane said.

”They say that her father was never the same. He lived as if he'd welcome death every day.”

”It's amazing he didn't fall apart completely and lose everything. But, then, of course, she had a brother. Your great-great-great-however many greats-grandfather,” Sloan said.

Emil laughed. ”It was my great, great, great grandfather. And he apparently had a wonderful friend as an overseer who'd studied at Harvard. He kept the place going. So this is it. What else can I show you? I mean, you're guests. You're free to wander as you choose. And, of course, this was horribly tragic, but you were supposed to be married today. We'll do anything we can. If you want-”

”We're just fine,” Jane said quickly. ”Will you be joining us at dinner?”

Roth seemed pleased, as if she were giving him an invitation rather than asking a question.

”I'd be delighted. Much better than eating alone,” he said.

”Chef seems busy. Don't others eat here as well?” Jane asked.

”They do. But when I'm here, I just wind up eating in my room,” he told him. ”And, actually, I have some e-mails to answer. Anything else, just knock on my door.”

”We'll wander here for a minute, if it's all right,” Sloan told him.

”My house is your house,” Roth told them with a grin.

He left them.

When he was gone, Jane looked at Sloan and asked, ”Anything?”

”Quiet as-a tomb. No pun intended, of course.”