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A smile deepened the corners of his mouth. “How quick you are to notice one of Crawford Hall’s former customs. A rather naughty one, I might add.”
Her interest caught, she tipped her head at a curious angle. “Naughty? How?”
“It goes back to the days when it was considered uncivilized for husbands and wives to share the same bedroom. As you can see, this brass frame has a slot that allows you to insert a card identifying the occupant of the room. Obviously it prevents someone from entering the wrong bedroom, but it was also useful for”—he paused in emphasis—“amorous purposes, proper or not. As the French would say, chacun à sa chacune, which translates more or less to ‘each man to each woman.’ ”
The gleam in his eyes had her pulse quickening. “Fascinating,” she murmured, her own libido stimulated by the subject matter.
“As a footnote, I might also mention that there is some indication that installation of the cardholders occurred around the time that your Lady Elaine lived here. However, it’s difficult to say whether they were installed at her direction.”
A soft laugh rolled from Laura’s throat. “Something tells me I would have liked that woman.” She started into the room, then paused, giving him an over-the-shoulder look, one hand on the door. “By the way, does Crawford Hall have any resident ghosts?”
That lazily sexy smile curved his mouth again. “If it does, I’ve never met them. Why do you ask?”
She arched one eyebrow at him, an expression that was both subtly provocative and suggestive. “I was just wondering whether I might have any surprise visitors tonight.”
“One never knows, does one?” There was something delightfully wicked in his expression. Desire fluttered in her stomach in response to it. “Your luggage will be up directly. Drinks will be served in the library around seven. Someone will be about to show you the way.”
“Drinks at seven. I’ll be there.”
The elevator clanked to a stop, and the doors clattered open, signaling Max’s arrival on the second floor as Laura entered her assigned bedroom.
An ornately carved four-poster bed dominated the spacious room, one of several furniture pieces that looked to be from another century. On the opposite side of the room, chairs and a cushioned settee were grouped around the fireplace, flanked by bookshelves. Laura wandered over to idly peruse the titles.
As promised, her luggage was delivered within minutes, accompanied by a motherly gray-haired maid named Maude who’d come to assist with the unpacking and press any items that required it. All was handled in short order, leaving Laura ample time to shower and change before dinner.
Twenty minutes later she emerged from the private bath clad in a kimono-style silk robe and busily toweling the worst of the wetness from her hair. She noticed the tea service that now occupied a table in the sitting area and realized the maid must have brought it in while she was in the shower.
As she crossed to it, she caught the sound of an arriving vehicle. Having already ascertained that her bedroom occupied the front side of the manor house, Laura indulged her curiosity and detoured to the nearest window. When she looked out, she saw a compact sedan park near the front entrance. A woman climbed out of the driver’s side. One look at her flaming red hair and Laura knew she was looking at Sebastian’s sister.
The mantel clock in the library chimed. Sebastian glanced at it, noting the time was half past six o’clock, and splashed some tonic in the glass with his freshly poured gin. From the hallway came the sound of approaching footsteps. Recognizing that quick-striding walk, Sebastian poured a second drink. With one in each hand, he turned as his sister Helen swept into the library.
“Is that for me? Jolly good.” She all but snatched the drink from his hand. “You have no idea how much I need this. I almost had Grizwold fetch one to my room.” She took a healthy sip of it. “Mmm, delicious,” she declared, then paused, her brown eyes opening wide. “Grizzy did tell you I arrived, didn’t he? I instructed him to inform you. I dashed straight to my room so I could tidy up before your guests caught a glimpse. They are here, aren’t they?”
“They came about half past four or thereabouts,” Sebastian confirmed.
“That’s good.” She sank into a leather armchair and reclined against its thickly cushioned back with a kind of graceful exhaustion. “I had the most bloody awful day. Two of my workers didn’t show up this morning, leaving me dreadfully shorthanded. And I had these two huge trees that absolutely had to be planted. It took all of us to do it. The instant the last one was in place, I dashed to my car and flew here, so you can imagine the state I was in when I arrived. My blouse, my trousers, I had smudges of dirt everywhere. I certainly wasn’t a fit sight to be seen by your guests.”
Sebastian listened without interrupting. Helen, his junior by two years, always had a tendency to babble nonstop when she was nervous. And her day had obviously been a stressful one.
“I noticed when I drove in that the grounds looked immaculately groomed,” she rattled on. “I must remember to compliment Leslie and his crew on a job well done. I had hoped to arrive early enough to inspect everything, but that simply wasn’t to be. Although I did notice there were no flowers in the front urns. That needs to be rectified. I hope your guests didn’t remark on it.”
“I doubt they noticed.” Sebastian idly swirled the gin and tonic in his glass, then lifted the glass to her in an affectionate salute. “Thank you for the use of your crew in tidying up the grounds. I was remiss in not saying that before now.”
“It’s important that the old place look prosperous even if it isn’t. If not for your guests, then for . . .” She paused, her glance flying to him, her eyes dark with worry. “It is so utterly awful that you have been put in such a difficult position. Losing Charlie and Sarah—and the children, too—it was so dreadfully painful. And now for you to be faced with this . . .”
“No one ever claimed that the fates are kind, Helen,” he said in a voice that was gentle and resigned to the situation.
“They have been horribly unkind to this family,” she declared and took a quick swallow of her drink, then looked at him again with quiet concern. “Are you quite certain you want to go through with this? Isn’t there some other way?”
“Believe me, I have explored every possible alternative.” He smiled to deflect her concern.
A heavy sigh slipped from her. “Naturally you have,” she acknowledged and went quiet for a moment, then sat forward, clasping her drink in both hands, an earnestness in her posture. “I love this old place as much as you do, Sebastian, but I can’t bear the thought of you being unhappy the rest of your life.”
His smile widened. “You haven’t met her.” He raised a finger. “Let me correct that. You have seen her before.”
“When?” Skepticism riddled her question.
“Every time you looked at that painting.” He pointed to a portrait, one of several that hung on the only wall in the room with shelves.
