Page 44 of The Magical Bed & Breakfast

She shook her head.

Kate took an intuitive leap, knowing she was right. “You sense something from the objects. That’s why you know so much.”

Malory shifted and wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Do you have any special objects? Items you’ve acquired for the historical society…”

“That I can’t part with?” Malory nodded. “You’re very insightful. A fountain pen,” she admitted. “But I can’t tell you why it’s so singular. Only that it is. I’ve held it back rather than placing it in one of the mansion rooms.”

Kate nodded. “If I need more information…”

“You can always contact me, but I’ve told you all I know about the writing desk. When it comes to the history of the community, Hazel Bestwick is your best source of information. However, she may not share what she knows. With Hazel, information is earned. You’ll need to prove yourself to her before she will share very much. Her family has the longest history in Hazard. Even longer than Lydia’s. Hazel traces her family back to the 1600s.”

“So the Bestwicks…”

Malory shook her head. “Bestwick is her married name. Hazel’s maiden name was Hazard. Surely you know she is descended from Edwin Hazard? Edwin was expected to marry into the Worthy family, but fell in love with another. And she was the one who began the blessing. It all started with her.”

“But I thought Prudence’s cousin began the blessing.”

Malory frowned and shook her head.

So who exactlywasSelah Worthy?

Chapter Eighteen

Kate couldn’t waitto share with Rory what she had learned about the writing desk. But first she needed to find out if he would be willing to perform the musical score with her for the Harvest Festival. How had Hazel talked her into that? She figured Malory had it right. Hazel Bestwick in all her devious ambiguity made it impossible to tell her no.

Kate sat down to practice and was lost in the music when Rory slid onto the piano bench next to her and took up the other part. In that moment, everything just clicked. They played together until it was dark outside, and the wind kicked up, buffeting the window glass. They had almost reached the end of the piece when Kate lost her clarity. She fumbled. Reaching for the next note, she bumped hands with Rory and hit a wrong key. It spiraled apart from there.

With a long sigh, Kate let her fingers rest next to Rory’s.

“It was better,” he said. “Don’t get discouraged.”

“That last part is impossible. Our hands get tangled up together. There’s no way to play together in that last section.”

“One more time then, starting here.” They backed up and tried the ending again.

Kate let out a huff. “See, I can’t get to that note.”

They tried again, this time crisscrossing their hands.

Rory tilted his head. “Maybe we’re approaching this backwards. What if we change sides and start at the beginning? They got up and switched, with Kate moving to sit on Rory’s left. But they only got a few measures in before he shook his head.

“Let me think about it,” said Rory. “Surely, there’s a way.”

“Unless it was never played. Maybe it was written but not tested out.” Maybe the composer didn’t have a partner to play it with, Kate wondered to herself, but that was almost too sad a thought. She pictured a lonely old composer all by himself, without his true love, lost in his music. Kate shook her head at her fancies.

“Then what about Ivy knowing the tune?” Rory waggled his eyebrows.

“Not that I believe in all Marjorie’s woo-woo nonsense about ancestral memory, but Ivy humming the tune before we discovered the musical scoreisstrange. I figure Ivy must have heard the tune somewhere to have hummed it before we found the score tucked away in the writing desk.” Although, was ancestral memory any stranger than the past existing simultaneously with the present in the inn? Or Malory gleaning information about an object by touching it?

How had she come to this point? When she sought to leave her former life of hard facts and problem solving, she had thought that owning an inn would be a perfect solution, because any problems to solve would have obvious answers. Kate shook her head at her thoughts. Entrenched in mystical musings was not where she thought she’d wind up.

“So, you’re thinking that part of the score, at least, was performed and known?”

Rory’s question made sense, but Kate’s head was spinning. She needed to change the subject. “Hazel came by this afternoon. She asked me to perform the score at the Harvest Festival. But…”

“You need a partner.” Rory gave her an appraising look.

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