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He then said, “I called the hospital. They were processing Lou’s release. They transferred me to her room, and she told me she and her parents are going to have breakfast then make their way here. She thinks they’ll be here around ten thirty, eleven. If you want to be ready to see her and not go down in your fetching nightclothes, you best be rousing.”
I looked to the clock.
It was just after nine.
I looked back to Ian.
“You think my pajamas are fetching?”
I was in a racerback tank, bralette under it to keep the girls under control, and a pair of loose shorts with a deep edge of lace, all this in a blush pink.
It wasn’t exciting. It was comfortable.
“It’s damned sexy when a sexy woman knows she doesn’t have to try to be just that.”
Interesting.
He reached to pull the bell cord. “Again, they know to bring up breakfast for you if I ring. I’ll leave you to get ready.”
He gave me another kiss, this one on my lips, a quick one, but still sweet.
He was up and moving toward the door when I called, “Ian?”
He stopped and turned back, raising his brows.
“I took a meander up on the gallery when I was talking to Lou’s mum.”
“Yes?” he asked.
“What’s the story about Joan, the other tenth Countess Alcott?”
His expression shifted, I didn’t like the shift, and I liked it less when he said, “Not for now, darling, okay?”
“Now I need to know,” I told him.
“It might be best we lay off ghost stories for a while.”
Terrific.
“I’m now in here with you,” I reminded him, throwing a hand out to indicate his room. “Safe. Right?”
He sighed and crossed his arms over his ridiculously attractive cardigan and even more attractive broad chest.
“She was David’s first wife. And she was a beast.”
Oh boy.
And…David had another wife?
How on earth did I miss that in my research?
Though, I supposed with a thousand years of history in that house and Dorothy Clifton hogging the limelight, I’d miss things.
“A beast?” I queried.
“Hideous to staff. Authoritarian. Stuck-up. In other words, a total bitch.”
“Did he divorce her?”
