One Magic Moment Read Free

she was satisfied with their condition.
    The courtyard was, she supposed, much as it had been over the centuries: cobblestones in paths surrounded by swaths of grass that had no doubt been dirt in the old days. She wasn’t unhappy for a bit of green, though she supposed all she had to do to enjoy that was look out the window at the forest that surrounded her castle.
    She walked up the steps to the great hall, then simply stood there with the key in her hand for far longer than she should have. Her hand was trembling, something she tried without success to ignore. It was ridiculous. This was her home, and she could walk inside and still breathe normally. The fact that she’d been hyperventilating the last time she’d come out the door was something she didn’t need to think about—
    A sudden growling behind her—a noise that belonged to the sort of dog that could stand up and put its paws on her shoulders before it made a snack of her nose—almost sent her lurching face-first into the heavy wooden door. She whirled around on the top step, desperately wishing she had something more to use as a defensive weapon than harsh language. She took a firmer grip on her backpack strap just in case she was afforded the opportunity to offer it as meal instead of her face, then looked at her would-be attacker.
    Mr. Beagle, the guard dog of the gift shop’s proprietress.
    Mrs. Tippets stood just behind her tiny terrier, wearing a frown that bespoke serious irritation indeed. Tess would have smiled in relief, but she didn’t imagine smiling would improve matters any. She had no idea what she’d done to inspire such antipathy in Mrs. Tippets, but she’d definitely done something.
    Mrs. Tippets ran the castle’s gift shop with an iron fist and a dour expression, not even cracking a smile at the delivery of her paycheck. Tess supposed it was a wonder anyone left the premises with any sort of souvenir. Tess didn’t open the castle every day for visitors and she did limit even those excursions into her home to the lower floor and the outside, but the gift shop was open five days a week. When it came to keeping Sedgwick in the black, every bit pence helped.
    “You’re back,” Mrs. Tippets said, her frown not dissipating.
    “Well, yes,” Tess said faintly, trying to look less unnerved than she was. She attempted a wave at the dog but only had another growl in return. “I don’t suppose you could call off Mr. Beagle—”
    “And I suppose you’ll be holding another of those hoity-toity events soon ,” Mrs. Tippets continued, with no small bit of suspicion and disapproval. “All those people eyeing my wares more closely than I like.”
    Tess bit her tongue, because her aunt had pounded into her the adage that if she didn’t have anything pleasant to say, she should confine herself to comments on her companion’s health and the weather.
    And yes, she held events because it kept the lights on. And given that Mrs. Tippets’s job was to keep the gift shop open so the attendees at those events could splash out for a few souvenirs, the woman should have perhaps been a little more interested in when those events would be happening and how many people would be indeed looking at her wares. But since Tess couldn’t think of a polite way to say as much, she settled for a deep breath.
    “Lovely weather we’re having,” she said politely.
    Mrs. Tippets looked at her as if she’d lost her mind, then without another word took her yipping terrier and turned away.
    “Your sister came back this morning,” she threw over her shoulder as she marched off toward the gates. “Without a key, of course.”
    Tess nodded, then turned back to the door and put her key into the lock. She turned it, then froze.
    Her sister was back?
    She found it difficult to breathe all of the sudden. She’d just talked to Peaches in Seattle that morning. Cinderella was also stateside, busy being Botoxed and writing a book about adventures Tess was sure she was