was the rightful owner of the castle and restore a little bit of honor to the family name. And not only that. After years as a single mother working her fingers to the bone, Jane’s mom deserved to finally retire. Turning the castle into a hotel would guarantee that her mother never had to work again.
Finally the castle gatehouse came into view, giving her enough hope to forge ahead. When she reached the gatehouse Jane stopped to catch her breath, exhausted after the long trek up the hill.
The sound of a low voice speaking German startled her, and she peered through the portcullis.
“H-hello?” Jane called as she noticed a hunched-over figure on the other side of the gate. “Is anyone there?”
She cringed. Whoever it was probably didn’t speak any English. She’d have to use the rudimentary German she had been learning over the past couple of months. “Mein name ist Jane Westen.”
The figure came closer and she saw an elderly man holding a flashlight come into view.
“I speak English,” the man said, eyeing her suspiciously.
“Are you Herr Kramer?” she asked. “Wintergarten’s solicitor?”
The man shook his head. “No. I am the groundskeeper.”
“Well, Herr Kramer should be expecting me,” she said.
The groundskeeper’s lips thinned in response.
“Please. I’ve come all this way.” The wind began to pick up in earnest and she shivered. Jane didn’t know what she would do if she was turned away now. Going back down the hill wasn’t an option. The tour company only drove to the hill’s base every few days, and the small car certainly couldn’t drive up the steep slope to the castle. “Is Herr Kramer here?”
“Yes. He is here.” The groundskeeper sniffed loudly, eyed her again for a long moment, then motioned for her to step back.
She did as he instructed and the portcullis slowly went up.
“Thank you so much,” she said gratefully, dragging her suitcase with her.
The groundskeeper said nothing. He merely beckoned for her to follow him across the snow to the castle entrance.
At the castle’s double doors, the groundskeeper produced a set of huge metal keys from his pocket and let her inside.
She followed him into an immense great hall with a vaulted ceiling that made her feel tiny and insignificant. Despite the large fireplace on the far side of the hall, the place still felt drafty. The air was stale and smelled faintly of mildew. As if nobody had lived in the castle for some time. Old armor and deer heads mounted on the walls cast long, dark shadows, the light from the fireplace doing little to illuminate the place.
There were scores of paintings on the walls. Each one was some long-ago ancestor—the grand dukes and duchesses who had lived at Wintergarten, starting with what looked like a fifteenth-century nobleman and ending with a photo-realistic painting of Friedrich von Westen. As she moved through the hall it was impossible to shake the feeling that they were all watching her, the painted eyes following her down the hall.
Jane suppressed a shudder and glanced to her left in an effort to find something less creepy to look at. Mounted on the wall was an assortment of medieval weapons. Swords, spears and, most horrifying of all, a gleaming ax.
At the sight of the ax she quickened her pace after the groundskeeper, the sound of their footsteps echoing eerily off the walls.
The groundskeeper stopped at the fireplace and motioned for her to sit down in one of the antique arm chairs. “You sit,” he instructed. “Get warm.”
Jane had never been so grateful to see a chair in her life, and she quickly took a seat. “Thank you.”
“Wait here. I will produce Herr Kramer.” The groundskeeper shuffled away, vanishing from the great hall.
The silence in the hall was deafening. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat Jane shrugged off her coat, pulled off her gloves, and held out her hands in front of the fire. Blissful warmth spread through her, chasing away the chill.
Sitting in front of a warm fire at last made the long trip up the hill worth it. Going through the castle archives and proving her claim to Wintergarten would make it even more worth it.
She’d finally be able to wipe the smirk off that attorney’s face. Ugh, just thinking about Gabriel Ross was enough to drive her batty. The Wall Street banker who also had a claim on the castle was rich enough to hire a big-shot lawyer. And Gabriel was the most annoying man she had ever met.
All his phone calls and unannounced