The Bride’s Brother by Peter Styles & J P Oliver

Author:Peter Styles & J P Oliver [Styles, Peter & Oliver, J P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-08T04:00:00+00:00

4

Daniel

I had tossed and turned all night, my mind unwilling to let go of the apparent hostility from Prince Amand. I had always imagined an older, more serious version of Ricard as my ideal partner. Now I’d met him, and he couldn’t stand me. Did he dislike me so because of my profession or my background? The latter spurred me to rise early, determined to expand on the genealogy work I had already started.

I sipped my morning coffee, brought to me by Nicolai, the young servant who had shown me to my room and later to the study. As I booted up my laptop, guilt niggled at me that I had yet to even begin the text for my newest travel book. I had dozens of excellent photos and stories, but researching my family history was proving a distraction.

Perhaps, if I addressed the family research first, I could put it behind me and move forward. Given Prince Amand’s comments, it seemed I might not have much time in Calonia before the welcome mat was pulled from beneath my feet. How exactly did one employ the royal boot? Somehow, I didn’t think the limo driver would be escorting me back to the airport when the time came.

In a matter of minutes, I transferred the list of names and possible numbers into my phone. I added the addresses of places like the courthouse and library, where I might find out more specific information. Ricard had told me before we retired to our rooms last night that he would be tied up with family matters for most of the day, so I must feel free to go wherever I wished. Good thing I had plenty of experience serving as my own tour guide.

Turning down the offer of a limo ride, I walked the distance from the palace into the heart of town. I wanted to keep my search for my family somewhat private. Everywhere I looked around the narrow, cobbled streets, flowers spilled from window boxes in bright splashes of color against white stucco walls.

I followed the GPS directions on my phone to the public library and began to track down possible connections. I pared my list of possible relatives to five, including phone numbers. Now it was time to call, which made me nervous. My Calonian wasn’t strong. Without the added benefit of facial expressions and body language, talking by phone was very difficult, but if I didn’t try, I might never know if I really had any family here.

After finding a quiet place outside the library, I screwed up my nerve to make the first call. No luck. No one had heard of either Annalisa or Vasile Petrovny, my grandparents. By the time I had finished, I had two definite negatives and three more that were possibilities only because they actually had the last name of Petrovny, not because I had spoken to anyone other than an answering machine.

I left messages, but had to do so in English. No way was I going to attempt to explain why I was calling in my limited Calonian.

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