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Gretchen wanted to kiss her sister for putting the man in his place. He must not be Mr. Buchanan, then. Thank God. He looked like he had a massive stick up his ass. Not exactly Gretchen’s kind of person.
After a long moment, the man nodded. “I am aware of Mr. Hawkings’s involvement. If you would please follow me, I can show you to your rooms.”
He turned and began to walk back up the stairs, not offering to help them with their luggage. Lovely. “No, no,” Gretchen began loudly. “Don’t bother. I can carry all the bags. There are Amazons in my ancestry, after all. Me strong like bull.” She flexed mockingly.
The man gave her an ugly stare over his shoulder.
Audrey stifled a giggle and thwacked Gretchen lightly on the arm. “Shut up, already.”
Gretchen simply grinned and tossed her bag over her shoulder. “Come on. The world’s friendliest butler there doesn’t look like he’s going to wait on us.”
They followed behind him, jogging to catch up, as he led them through the house.
When they entered the foyer of the grandiose hall, Gretchen stopped and set down her luggage, her mouth gaping at the sight. A dual staircase curved up the massive marble foyer, and in the center of the ceiling dripped a crystal chandelier. A red runner carpet lined the stairs and Gretchen felt as if she’d been dropped into a TV show. “This place is gorgeous.”
The gentleman escorting them turned and gave her a slight sniff of disapproval. “Of course it is.”
“I wasn’t insulting the place, I was just—”
“Talking. Yes, I noticed.” He turned his back on her and began to go up the stairs.
Wow. She made a face at him and turned to Audrey, who was trying to stifle a giggle behind one hand and failing miserably. “Gee, I hope he’s in charge of the tour,” Gretchen mock-whispered. “He’s got some incredible people skills.”
Audrey batted her arm, laughing.
They followed the butler—at least, Gretchen assumed he was the butler—up to the second floor and down a long, narrow hall. The house was clearly old but everything was in remarkable condition and of the finest make. At the end of the hallway, the butler turned to them. “I have prepared only one room for guests.” And he gave another baleful look at Audrey.
“Oh, it’s not a problem,” Gretchen said sweetly. “It must be terribly difficult to find space around here. You must only have thirty or forty guest bedrooms. I totally understand.”
He stared at Gretchen and then opened the door, choosing to ignore her.
The door opened up into a gorgeous room, and despite the butler’s unpleasant demeanor, Gretchen was delighted at the sight. A large canopied bed that looked like something straight out of the Tudor dynasty jutted out from the far wall, and the vaulting ceiling was painted with dancing cherubs and glittered with more chandeliers.
She stepped over the threshold, a bit surprised at the opulence of the room. She’d been expecting something a bit more like a hotel room, with a simple bed, dresser, and table. She would have been glad for that. This . . . was incredible.
“I trust that this suits your needs?” the butler asked dryly.
Gretchen forced herself to close her mouth and gave him an equally grave look. “It’s a little small,” she lied, “but it’ll suit.”
“I’ll give you a few hours to get settled. Dinner is in two hours and will be brought to your room.”
Audrey stopped staring at the gorgeous room and looked over at the butler. “Do we get a tour of the place?”
“And the letters,” Gretchen said. “When do I get to look at those?”
“The letters are in the sout
h wing, and the south wing is off limits today.” He moved toward the door, readying to leave. “If you need anything else, ring the bell pull. My name is Mr. Eldon. You can ask for me.”
“Why is the south wing off limits?” Gretchen asked as he began to shut the door.
“Because today is Friday,” he said as the door closed with a click.
Gretchen stared at Audrey, a bit surprised by what had just happened.
“Well. The rich do surround themselves with eccentrics,” Audrey said. “Maybe he’s very good at being a butler. Or something.”
“I’m hoping it’s more along the lines of ‘old family friend’,” Gretchen said wryly. “Because that’ll excuse his behavior a little more. Do you think the owner doesn’t want me here to do this project?”
