“Wasn’t he superrich?” Olivia asked.
“Yes,” Camilla said eagerly.
Mrs. Abbott nodded. “The duke was engaged to one of Rochester’s daughters. But then, much to the shock of New York society and the duke’s own family, he suddenly broke off his engagement!”
“Why?” Olivia asked.
“Because,” said her mother, “he was in love with someone else. Someone from more humble origins . . .”
“You mean Great-aunt Edna?” Olivia guessed.
Her mom nodded. “She was only eighteen years old when he whisked her off to Italy,” she said wistfully. “She’d never been more than ten blocks from home before.”
“Wow!” Camilla murmured.
“The duke lavished her with gifts, and they lived happily ever after,” Mrs. Abbott declared cheerfully.
Olivia was impressed. “Did you ever meet her?” she asked.
“Only once,” her mom replied. “When I was about seven and living in Florida, Edna and the duke were touring the Florida Keys and they came to visit Grandma and Grandpa.”
“What was she like?” Camilla asked.
“She was the most glamorous person I’d ever seen,” Olivia’s mom replied. “She had this sparkly jeweled necklace that she let me try on, and I pretended I was a princess. And they ...well, it was clear how much the two of them adored each other.” The car came to a stoplight, and she turned to Olivia. “And that,” her mom finished, “is the story of Great-aunt Edna!”
“She sounds amazing,” Olivia said. “I’m sorry I never got to meet her.”
“Me, too,” her mother told her. “But at least she left me some things that will help us remember her.”
“So what did she leave you?” Olivia asked.
Mrs. Abbott sniffed, and Olivia realized that her mom’s eyes were welling up. “The diamond and ruby necklace that she let me try on as a little girl.”
“No way!” Olivia gasped.
“There’s more.” Her mother smiled, wiping a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “She left me a jeweled ostrich-feather fan and a jewelry box with a secret compartment full of love letters written between her and the duke.”
Olivia turned around to look at Camilla and saw that her friend’s mouth was hanging open. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked.
“Uh-huh.” Camilla grinned. “Looks like our film project is an old-fashioned love story!”
Chapter 4
Olivia rushed downstairs on Tuesday morning, her hair still dripping from the shower. She bounded through the small kitchen and into the family room, where she was frantically searching for the remote control between the cushions of the couch when she heard a noise: whooooosssshhhh!
Olivia stopped in her tracks and stood up. She scanned the room, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Maybe someone flushed the toilet upstairs, she thought, bending down to look for the remote control again—
Whoooooooosssssshhh! The noise was louder this time.
That sounds so close, Olivia thought, her heart beginning to race. I think it’s coming from right behind the couch!
She grabbed a cushion and crept to the end of the couch, holding the pillow over her shoulder like it was a baseball bat. Ever so slowly, she peered around the edge of the sofa . . .
“Whoooooossssshhhhh!” Her father exhaled, and Olivia found herself staring at the bottoms of his bare feet.
Ew, she thought, relaxing again. Her dad was lying on the floor in his pajamas with his eyes closed. For a split second she thought maybe he was hurt, but then his right leg came up in slow motion, and he brought his left hand over to touch his big toe. He held the toe aloft, his ankle shaking slightly.
“Whoooooosss—”