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in silence for some time, through cotton fields and cow pastures, until a beautiful white house appeared in the distance. The two-story structure was fronted by eight large columns. There were rows of windows dressed with black shutters—very formal and elegant. As we drew nearer, cars lined the road closer and closer together until they were bumper to bumper.
    “Bunny wasn’t kidding when she said the whole town was coming,” I said.
    Jenny chuckled. “I’m beginning to think we should have taken a cab. There isn’t a parking spot anywhere within a mile of the place.”
    The Jaguar slowed to a crawl, and we craned our necks for an opening.
    At last, Matthew said, “Why don’t I drop you ladies off at the door and then I’ll come back and find a spot?” He threw me a teasing smile. “I don’t think you could make it more than a few feet on those stilts you’re wearing.”
    “Ha-ha, very funny.” Since I’d sprained an ankle a couple of months ago, I’d had to endure nonstop teasing about the height of the heels I wore.
    When his smiling eyes met mine again, they had turned from dark brown to a light golden shade. My heart skipped a beat.
    “Good grief,” Jenny said from the backseat. “Will you look at this place? It’s as big as a hotel. And it’s all lit up like a Christmas tree.”
    “And look at that drive,” I said. It was a circular drive around a large fountain with a trio of sculpted fish jumping out of a seashell, streams of water cascading out of their mouths. My attention was drawn to the massive front door, above which was a gold-leafed eagle. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m impressed.”
    Jenny chuckled. “Yes, but can you imagine having to clean a place like this? They’d need cooks and maids and butlers.”
    “They probably have them,” I said, awed at the thought of such a grand lifestyle. Noticing the neat rows of flowers edging the drive, I added, “And gardeners too.”
    “I’m glad I don’t have to pay for all that,” Matthew said. “But I doubt Whitby has more than a couple of people caring for his property. I’m sure most of the rooms are kept closed off, so the space he actually uses is probably closer to that of a normal house. Nobody lives those kinds of fancy lives anymore.”
    We pulled up in front of the entrance, and a young man in a navy uniform—jacket and a matching cap—came rushing over.
    He opened Matthew’s door. “Good evening, sir. I’ll park the car for you, if you don’t mind.” We stepped out of the car. Matthew handed him the keys in exchange for a ticket, and the attendant hopped in.
    As soon as he drove off, Jenny turned to me. “Wow—a parking valet. This is fancier than anything I’ve ever seen. Let’s go in. I can’t wait to see the inside.”
    Matthew took my arm and helped me up the steps. No sooner had he pressed the doorbell than the door opened.
    “Good evening,” a butler greeted us. “Please come in.” His tone was so officious, I almost expected him to add, “Said the spider to the fly.”

Chapter 3
    W e stepped into a large foyer crowded with guests. Women were dressed in everything from jeans to sequined dresses, most of them milling around an aristocratic-looking middle-aged man. Somebody must have said something funny at that moment because he laughed out loud, his deep voice carrying over the sounds of the crowd.
Whitby,
I guessed.
    I looked around, awed. Under my feet were inlaid alder floors, buffed to a glow. Above, the ceiling was more than two stories high—at least thirty feet—and in its center hung a magnificent chandelier on a silk-covered chain. Hundreds of crystals sparkled, lending dazzling opulence to the room. On either side of the foyer, richly carved staircases curved up to a mezzanine that wrapped around the foyer below. This wasn’t a house. It was a mansion. Why in the world would anybody want to redecorate this magnificent home? It was perfect just as it was.
    Suddenly, a woman in