Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
She opened it, looking freaked, probably because I was banging on her door, only to stop looking freaked and start looking bemused when she saw me.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Where have you been all day?”
“I texted you. Since we were out, Sam suggested we nip to the ruins. It was farther away than I thought. We just got back half an hour ago. It was a lot of wandering and climbing. Then it started to drizzle. There was lots of mud. It was amazing, but I’m a mess. I have to hurry, or I’ll be late for dinner.” Her eyes went up and down my body and she asked, her voice pitched higher. “What on earth are you wearing?”
“Richard Alcott isn’t my father. He can’t send me to bed without supper if he doesn’t like my outfit. Though I don’t know if he’s even at the house at all, since I haven’t seen him, or Lady Jane, or anyone since Ian gave me a tour this morning then brooded off.”
She seemed intrigued. “Ian gave you a tour?”
I didn’t have time to get into how irritating his tests and games were, then making me think I might like him only for him to disappear in full Mr. Rochester, leaving me alone for the rest of the entire day.
Sure, the place was enormous, and it took almost two hours to get through it all.
But then I was alone for the rest of the day.
I hadn’t invited my own self there, for goodness’ sake.
“Do you know Portia is in fucking London?” I demanded.
“Yes, she texted. She said it couldn’t be helped. Daniel had to go there for work. She’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’d like to be in London, oh, I don’t know…running my business.”
Lou made excuses for her, like normal. “This was unexpected for her and Daniel.”
“This is another game,” I snapped. “She knows we don’t like him, or his family, or this crazy, beautiful, too damned perfect house. She knows if we have a chance to talk to her, we’ll talk her out of being with him. And she’s in London, where we live, and we’re in the middle of goddamn nowhere, because she asked us to be here, and that is not okay.”
“I see you’re upset,” she said conciliatorily.
“You think?”
“Come in while I get ready, but I have to take a really quick shower. It’ll be super quick, promise. I have to hurry.”
“You’re a grown-ass woman, Lou. Fuck Richard Alcott and his schedule. Don’t hurry. I’ll see you down there whenever you’re ready.”
I turned away as she called, “Where are you going?”
“To find a drink,” I called back.
One could say I was a lot more comfortable tonight, at least in what I was wearing.
I had on an iridescent shirt in black that was unbuttoned so far down, you could see quite a bit of the very lacy cups of my black bra. I was wearing this with black tuxedo cigarette pants and patent black Christian Louboutin pumps. The only jewelry I had on were a pair of hoops that, on the outside, were traced with diamonds, and on the inside, were black diamonds. Those and a Roberto Coin Rock and Diamonds white gold ring on the middle finger of my left hand.
I was headed to the Wine Room, and I was half an hour early, but screw it. If no one was there to get me a drink, and I couldn’t pour my own, I’d pull the cord and get someone to help me.
Since I had all day—by myself—as mentioned, I’d given myself the full tour.
So not only had I seen Portia’s Robin Room was an incredibly pretty exploration of just how well you could use robin’s egg blue, I also knew it was the Port Room where I heard the voices coming from as I closed in on the Wine Room.
“Who put her in Carnation?”
That was Ian, and he sounded pissed.
And one could only assume he was talking about me and my allocated bedroom.
The question was, why would that make him angry?
I stopped and stepped to the side of the hall, inching closer to the door, the better to eavesdrop.
“Household decisions are your mother’s.”
That was Richard.
“Bullshit. Mum wouldn’t put anyone in there. It’s ghoulish.”
“It’s a beautiful room. Outside Robin and Cherry, it’s the best in the house. At least on the feminine side of things.”
“So it was your decision.”
“She’s a special guest. She might be your sister-in-law if things go well for Daniel.”
“So you put her in a dead woman’s room?”
What the hell?
A dead woman?
“Please tell me you didn’t tell her about that,” Richard demanded.
“Fuck no, I didn’t. Christ, Dad.”
“It was nearly a hundred years ago.”
Nearly a hundred years ago.
Oh my God.
Dorothy Clifton had been given my room.
“Not a single person has slept in that room for ninety-five years, until last night,” Ian declared.