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“Yes, this is Brock Steel.”
“This is Mr. Havisham, Mr. Ainsley’s butler. He’d like to meet you and Ms. Pike today for tea instead of tomorrow if possible.”
“We just got in,” I say. “Four o’clock is only an hour away.”
“Mr. Ainsley sends his apologies,” the butler says, “but his personal physician just rescheduled his monthly appointment to tomorrow afternoon.”
“Yeah. All right. I’ll make that work.”
“Mr. Ainsley thanks you.”
I end the call. Rory is still lying on the bed, her body flushed with pink, her eyes closed, her hair strewn on the pillow like a dark-brown curtain of silk.
I hate to disturb her. But this way, at least, she doesn’t get her nap.
I pull on my jeans and sit on the bed. “Sweetheart…”
Her eyes pop open. “Hey.”
“You have to get up. Get dressed. Our coffee should be in the hall.”
She yawns. “After what you just put me through? No way am I getting out of this bed.”
“I’m so sorry, but that phone call—”
“You got a phone call?”
“Boy, youarein a climax-induced fog. Yeah, I just got a call. Ennis Ainsley wants to meet us for tea today. In an hour.”
She jerks into a sitting position. “Are you kidding?”
“Believe me, part of me wishes I were. But then there’s another part of me that wants to get to the bottom of all this right away, so I’m actually happy about it.”
“Hey, I’m with you. Let’s find out what the old guy has to say. I sure hope they delivered that coffee.”
I rise, walk to the door of our suite, and open it. Sure enough, a room service cart sits outside holding a pot of coffee, two cups and napkins, cream and sugar, and an assortment of scones.
I grab a scone and take a bite. I’m suddenly famished.
I wheel the car in, pour coffee for Rory and myself, and then I dress.
Once dressed, Rory takes a sip of her coffee. Then screws her face into a frown. “I guess I see why the English drink tea.”
“Really, is it that bad?” I take a sip. “Yeah, it’s that bad.”
My family loves coffee. And Jade especially. She’s got us all hooked on dark swamp root.
I stir in a bit of cream. I don’t normally take cream, but it will cool the coffee down so I can drink quickly, and it may also help the flavor. I take a sip.
“The cream will help,” I tell Rory.
“Cream isn’t really my thing, but I’ll take your word for it.” She pours cream in her own coffee, stirs it, and takes a drink.
She still makes a face, but then she takes another drink.
“Ugh. But at least we’ll get tea with Mr. Ainsley, right?”
“Yes, and hopefully it will be good English tea. Unless he’s a chamomile guy.”
