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Irritated, Carmen turned away and closed the taxi door behind her.
Smug bastard.
She looked along the forecourt and saw a silver Maserati Gran Turismo parked up at the far end. She’d been so busy looking at the house she hadn’t noticed the car. He’d arrived first. Why did he have the upper hand in this situation? Because he was from the family line, he was the natural heir, that’s why. In one sense she was the new generation, just as her mother had been, a break with the past. That was the old way, the old heritage. The important thing was that Rex didn’t really want this house. It was all a game for him, a bit of fun for a bored playboy. She was the one who was going to love the house, just the way her mother had.
“Welcome,” Mrs. Amery said, and she looked genuinely moved to greet Carmen. The housekeeper was dressed impeccably as ever, in a plain jacket and matching skirt with a round-neck top beneath. Her hair, silvered now and no longer the ash blond it once was, was neatly pinned at the back of her head. She was unobtrusive, efficient and old-fashioned when it came to protocol and manners. She didn’t even put out her hand in greeting, but Carmen felt it all the same. Mrs. Amery wasn’t the most approachable woman, but Carmen could tell that it meant a lot to the staff to welcome them both back to the manor. Rex especially, she had no doubt. All the staff had loved Rex and missed him when he had opted to spend his holidays solely with his mother instead.
“It’s good to be here. Are you well, Mrs. Amery?”
“Not too bad, considering the difficult time we had after Mr. Charles died.”
“It brought about a lot of uncertainty for you, I’m sure. Hopefully that will be at an end soon.” Carmen gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
Andy had taken her weekend case into the reception hall, and returned to her side. Carmen opened her purse.
Andy shook his head. “That’s not necessary. Mr. Carruthers has set up an account.”
Carmen frowned. So, Rex had installed himself and he’d already made arrangements that she considered her own responsibility. She tried not to show her disapproval, quickly opened her purse and folded several notes into his hand. “Thank you, Andy. I’ll be in touch about my return journey. I need to be back in London on Sunday evening.”
She walked alongside Mrs. Amery, up the wide stone steps to the front door, an oversize paneled affair with a lion’s head knocker. It had once been a dark shade of green but Carmen’s mother had suggested red, and Carmen was pleased to see it had been kept that way. The interior reception hall was one of her favorite places, the sweeping crescent-shaped staircase as impressive as it was welcoming.
Mrs. Amery collected her bag where Andy had deposited it and headed toward the staircase. “You’ll find your room just as you left it.”
“How lovely,” Carmen replied vaguely as she looked around fondly. It felt like home. It was home. She owned half of Burlington Manor and soon she would own all of it. As she closed on the upstairs landing Mrs. Amery’s voice
faded away completely because Rex was still sitting there on the window seat at the head of the staircase. It was the perfect place to watch people arrive, and that’s exactly what he was doing. He’d turned away from the exterior view and was now watching her climb the stairs, scrutinizing her as she closed on him.
Self-awareness flooded Carmen.
It was impossible to get to her room without passing him.
Mrs. Amery nodded and smiled as she passed Rex by.
Carmen considered walking past without saying a word, but she couldn’t bring herself to be so rude. He, on the other hand, was sitting there languidly, observing her, looking outrageously sexy without much effort at all.
“Rex.” She nodded her head in greeting.
She couldn’t help herself, she glanced back after she passed by.
He smiled and inclined his head. “Carmen.”
His voice, resonant and suggestive, drew a physical response inside her. Ignoring it, she hurried along the landing, where the doors were arranged in a U-shape around the mezzanine landing that overlooked the staircase below.
The sight of her old room startled her, because it was so familiar she felt as if she were imagining it. She closed the door behind them. “Nothing has changed.”
“It was what Mr. Charles wanted. Exactly as your mother had left the place. We could come in and clean but we were told not to move furniture around or change the look of the rooms at all.”
Carmen smiled. “It’s like going back in time.”
“I expect it is.”
Carmen stepped over to the windows. The dual vista provided by the corner placement of the room drew her eye, as it always did. The room overlooked the gardens at the back of the building, and the view was etched in her memory. The far trees were a little taller. Nothing else had changed.
Carmen’s mother had redesigned the room in Bedouin style for Carmen’s sixteenth birthday, shortly after they’d moved in. Every sensory detail held a memory, from the dark polished parquet floor underfoot to the scatter rugs in shades of red. The parquet floor made her feel elegant when her high heels clicked over it, and the rugs hushed those same steps in the most luxurious way. The furniture was ebony wood with tiny inlaid stone designs to offset each corner. The comforter on the bed was velvet in harem colors, and the carved ebony struts of the bed frame gave the head and footboards a Moorish look. Sheer red drapes on niches in the wall opposite the bed concealed lamps. When the main lights were off, the room became both mysterious and romantic.
Mrs. Amery watched Carmen taking the view in. “Don’t worry, the bed hasn’t been left made up this way all these years. Don’t think that. I remembered it was your favorite coverlet so I retrieved it from storage and had it dry cleaned yesterday. I wanted you to feel completely welcome and at home again.”
Carmen rested her hand on the housekeeper’s shoulder. “I appreciate that. The room looks lovely.”
