the lodge. Jon and I had completed restoration of the lodge in late December, in time for us to hold our wedding reception there.
We left our coats in the reception hall and moved into the library that had been modeled after the library at the Biltmore House. Last year, Melanie and I had made several trips to America’s Castle in Asheville to get ideas and inspiration from George Vanderbilt’s mansion. The solid, built-in bookcases were made of oak, stained to resemble mahogany. And there were rows of books, many on the theatre and the movie industry from Cam’s collection that he had brought to their marriage. The older volumes had been his director father’s.
Spunky, Melanie’s black cat, was curled up in a tight ball on a chenille-covered sofa, acknowledging us with a languid blink as we entered.
“ And how did the wedding-crasher cat enjoy the honeymoon cruise?” I asked as I went over to stroke his head with my fingertip. Spunky had followed us down the aisle at our wedding. He purred loudly at my touch. He is a cat I had rescued as a kitten a few years ago. But ungrateful beast, he had taken one long hard look into Melanie’s eyes, which are so much like his own, recognized a kindred spirit and howled until I let her take him home. Where he has been treated like the prince of the feline world ever since.
“ Spunky loves the yacht,” Cam said, moving to the bar and selecting a decanter. “He sits up in the helm and watches the water, tail twitching. I can’t imagine what he thinks he sees.”
“ But he did not like the plane trip back home,” Melanie said. “I had to tranquilize him to get him to keep quiet, otherwise they would not have let me take him on board with me.”
“ Cam, what do you make of Brian’s story about Citigroup and the Bellamy debt?” I asked as he passed out nightcaps.
“ I’ve never heard anything about a purchasing agent working for Dr. Bellamy and the architects,” Jon said. “This is a load of crap if you ask me.”
“ With purchases made so many years ago,” Cam said reasonably, “anything is possible. Perhaps there was a purchasing agent. How complete are the records?”
“ Not complete,” I said. “Pieces missing. I do know that Dr. Bellamy paid the debt for the fourteen twenty-five foot columns to the Confederate Government, and then when the war ended, the Northern supplier sued for the cost of the columns. Dr. Bellamy paid that bill twice. I guess it is conceivable that some merchants, rather than carrying debts, sold their notes to a bank.”
“ That is not an uncommon business practice,” Cam said.
Cam turned from the bar. He is tall and lanky, with unruly hair. He has a kind face. Everyone’s favorite big brother.
“ But who would ever imagine that Citigroup would somehow acquire the notes, or that they’d act to collect on them after a century and a half?” I said.
“ Stranger things have happened,” Cam said.
“ Well, I know one thing,” Melanie said. “If Brian tries to force the sale of the mansion with Candi and Han as the buyers, and me listed as the broker, people in this town will detest me so much I will never get another listing or make a sale. Folks here kind of believe that mansion belongs to the town, to the public. A place school children visit to learn about how life was lived a hundred and fifty years ago. It must remain a museum!”
“ But what can you do?” Jon asked. “This is not your doing. You didn’t know anything about the Bellamy Mansion’s outstanding debts, did you?”
“ No. Of course not,” Melanie declared indignantly.
“ Well, then, none of this was your doing,” Jon said.
Melanie raged, “Do you think my enemies will believe that? No! I’ll be screwed with every preservationist and community leader in this town. We’re dependent on tourism, and if the Bellamy Mansion becomes a private residence and is no longer a tourist attraction, the tourist board will loathe me. My career will be
We left our coats in the reception hall and moved into the library that had been modeled after the library at the Biltmore House. Last year, Melanie and I had made several trips to America’s Castle in Asheville to get ideas and inspiration from George Vanderbilt’s mansion. The solid, built-in bookcases were made of oak, stained to resemble mahogany. And there were rows of books, many on the theatre and the movie industry from Cam’s collection that he had brought to their marriage. The older volumes had been his director father’s.
Spunky, Melanie’s black cat, was curled up in a tight ball on a chenille-covered sofa, acknowledging us with a languid blink as we entered.
“ And how did the wedding-crasher cat enjoy the honeymoon cruise?” I asked as I went over to stroke his head with my fingertip. Spunky had followed us down the aisle at our wedding. He purred loudly at my touch. He is a cat I had rescued as a kitten a few years ago. But ungrateful beast, he had taken one long hard look into Melanie’s eyes, which are so much like his own, recognized a kindred spirit and howled until I let her take him home. Where he has been treated like the prince of the feline world ever since.
“ Spunky loves the yacht,” Cam said, moving to the bar and selecting a decanter. “He sits up in the helm and watches the water, tail twitching. I can’t imagine what he thinks he sees.”
“ But he did not like the plane trip back home,” Melanie said. “I had to tranquilize him to get him to keep quiet, otherwise they would not have let me take him on board with me.”
“ Cam, what do you make of Brian’s story about Citigroup and the Bellamy debt?” I asked as he passed out nightcaps.
“ I’ve never heard anything about a purchasing agent working for Dr. Bellamy and the architects,” Jon said. “This is a load of crap if you ask me.”
“ With purchases made so many years ago,” Cam said reasonably, “anything is possible. Perhaps there was a purchasing agent. How complete are the records?”
“ Not complete,” I said. “Pieces missing. I do know that Dr. Bellamy paid the debt for the fourteen twenty-five foot columns to the Confederate Government, and then when the war ended, the Northern supplier sued for the cost of the columns. Dr. Bellamy paid that bill twice. I guess it is conceivable that some merchants, rather than carrying debts, sold their notes to a bank.”
“ That is not an uncommon business practice,” Cam said.
Cam turned from the bar. He is tall and lanky, with unruly hair. He has a kind face. Everyone’s favorite big brother.
“ But who would ever imagine that Citigroup would somehow acquire the notes, or that they’d act to collect on them after a century and a half?” I said.
“ Stranger things have happened,” Cam said.
“ Well, I know one thing,” Melanie said. “If Brian tries to force the sale of the mansion with Candi and Han as the buyers, and me listed as the broker, people in this town will detest me so much I will never get another listing or make a sale. Folks here kind of believe that mansion belongs to the town, to the public. A place school children visit to learn about how life was lived a hundred and fifty years ago. It must remain a museum!”
“ But what can you do?” Jon asked. “This is not your doing. You didn’t know anything about the Bellamy Mansion’s outstanding debts, did you?”
“ No. Of course not,” Melanie declared indignantly.
“ Well, then, none of this was your doing,” Jon said.
Melanie raged, “Do you think my enemies will believe that? No! I’ll be screwed with every preservationist and community leader in this town. We’re dependent on tourism, and if the Bellamy Mansion becomes a private residence and is no longer a tourist attraction, the tourist board will loathe me. My career will be
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