Page 57 of Your Coffin or Mine
“Perfectly safe, Aubrey. No worries, they don’t even feel them. I promise.” He gestures toward the door, and I turn to glance at the table, lunch completely ruined and water dripping off the table. “Don’t worry about that, either. I think now would be a good time to show you another part of the castle.”
I shake my head in disbelief. No way they didn’t feel that—it shook the whole castle. “What do you mean? That was crazy.”
He rocks back on his heels before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Come, let me distract you. This will be the perfect time to get you to look at the ballroom with me. We need theme ideas on colors, that sort of thing.”
I think to myself how maybe they should move. Eesh. I hope the quakes don’t happen that often, even if they are harmless.
“I’ve been trying to think of ways to get more people to come stay.”
The subject change is not lost on me, but I indulge his comment and let my promotional brainstorming take over. What touristy things could pull some people to visit? I know Mom has an entire flock of women who adore visiting vineyards.
I can’t help but laugh and say, “Might want to get rid of the tremors first?”
His eyes crinkle and his lips curl upward as we walk. “If only we could control the world, my dear.”
“Right,” I murmur. “Are there any wineries in the area?”
“Yes, the age here to drink is eighteen, and in each county, the wine tastes different. In most rural areas, the menfolk even make their own wine.”
That would totally add to the attraction. “Huh, that’s cool. Where I’m from, men only know how to make bad decisions.”
He smirks, and I can’t help but smile. “That tends to be the consensus of most women, in my experience. I’m sure the women here would say the same, which is why I need your help.”
Doyle leads me down a hallway before turning a corner and approaching a set of double doors.
“I’ll do what I can,” I offer.
“I want to know what you think of holding the whole event here.” He pushes open the doors to reveal the ballroom and I gasp in amazement at the sight before me. The room is large and grand, with high painted ceilings and black gothic chandeliers that are all lit, casting shadows around the room.
“Shut up.” I gape at the fresco paintings on the ceiling. “Oh my gosh! Look at the cherubs.”
The light-blue walls are adorned with ornate moldings and intricate paintings, and the marble floors gleam beneath our feet. Only issue is it’s a ballroom, but there is no room. Furniture lines the walls and sits haphazardly throughout the space, but it all looks movable. I spot a covered marble statue and itch to pull the sheet off to see what’s behind it.
“This room is amazing,” I breathe, looking down at the checkered marble floor.
He smiles. “Yes, it is. It was originally the great hall, but we turned it into a ballroom. It’s probably my favorite room in the castle, and there are several others, but those will need more renovations before they’re ready for visitors.”
I nod, taking in every detail of the room. “I think it’s perfect for a grand gala. You could even hold weddings here with this—and receptions.”
“Yep,” he agrees. “But I’m not sure what color scheme we should go with.”
I smile, feeling inspired by the possibilities. “Hmm. I’m thinking we lean dark and gothic. It’s got that vibe anyway.” I nod at the chandeliers that look like they’re made of a pretty onyx, glittering and shimmering above us, then point to the ceiling. “Shades of black, and maybe dark purple? We can use shades of gray to contrast with the darker colors. Do those chandeliers dim?”
He looks up at them. “They don’t, but I’m sure we can change that.”
“Some dim lighting and shadows will create one hell of an atmosphere.”
He nods and strokes his bearded chin. “You’re probably right.”
I turn around, walking to the blue wall to reach out and touch it, feeling the gray patterned fleur-de-lis things. “How do they even make this?”
“Wallpaper?” Doyle asks, his tone full of humor.
“This is so not wallpaper.”
“No, it’s really not. It’s called damask. When these walls were done—I believe two centuries ago—they were hand painted using blocks of wood that were cut to create the damask designs.” Doyle pulls his phone out and starts typing. “Right, socapes and vampire teeth. The whole thing. It’ll be awesome. Like a Halloween wonderland almost.” His eyes flit to mine and he wiggles his brows. “We just need to talk yourboyfriendinto it.”
My brow furrows. Is Vlad my boyfriend?He can’t be—you are leaving.I push the thought away.
