Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Jet squeezes my hand then turns to Jameson. “Anyone touches a hair on her head—”
“She will be treated with the utmost courtesy, I assure you, Mr. Blackstone,” Jameson says.
I nod, kiss Jet on the cheek. “I’m fine. I can handle myself,” I whisper.
He looks at me like he’s committing me to memory and nods reluctantly, jaw tight.
I pull away and turn to Jameson. “Lead the way.”
He smiles and I follow him back out into the corridor. He keeps a respectful distance, that smile on his face as he tells me the history of the building.
“This is the original part of the castle,” he tells me as we walk down a hallway where staff in uniform pass us pushing carts stacked with tableware. I glance around. Even given the weirdness of everything this castle is something to see. It’s like stepping back in time.
Between all those dark stones and small window casements and leaded windows, it is quite dark. Iron sconces cast flickering light across what look to be ancient oil portraits. We pass one set of wide doors that stand open and I peer into an opulent great hall with mirrored walls and lots of activity as staff work to set up for an event.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“You are in luck. Tonight we are having our Masked Ball. You will attend, of course.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t want to impose.”
“It’s all been arranged.”
“Well, I doubt we’ll be here anyway.”
Jameson nods as if humoring me. “Let me show you to your room. Once you freshen up, perhaps you’d like lunch in the East Conservatory? The views are spectacular from there.”
“I’d prefer to wait for the others.”
We begin to ascend a large, wide staircase that looks centuries old the stone deeply worn where countless people have walked. “Your room is in the East wing. It’s the original part of the castle, and between us,” he starts, leaning in as if telling me a great secret. “It’s the most beautiful. It’s been modernized, of course, so it will be not only comfortable but quite luxurious.”
I follow him down a corridor to the door at the far end.
“Here we are,” he says, and opens it. He gestures for me to enter and I do.
If I thought Jet’s suite at the Balmoral was special, this? This is something else. Something out of a fairy tale, albeit a dark one.
I can see that the bones of the room are ancient, however, like Jameson said, it’s been modernized while preserving all that history.
Warm gold light spills across cream-colored walls. Dark floors are softened by thick Persian rugs in muted jewel tones, but the focal point of the room is a massive bed with an intricately carved headboard that reaches almost to the ceiling. It’s a tangle of vines and roses and from here, I can see the tiny, sharp thorns. One in particular catches my eye. It’s the one where a small wooden bird, so small you could miss it entirely, has perched atop one of those sharp points.
Seeing it sends something cold down my spine. It’s beautiful and terrifying and familiar.
I tilt my head, taking it in. Although the design appears at first glance chaotic, there’s a pattern to it. One I know.
I’ve seen this before.
“Is it not to your liking?” Jameson asks, interrupting my thoughts.
I turn to him, having almost forgotten he was there. “Oh, no of course…” I clear my throat. “It’s beautiful.”
“Good.”
I glance at the headboard once more before surveying the rest of the room. Everything is subtly expensive in that way only old money can be.
In the center of the room is a round table and on it is a crystal vase holding fresh flowers. All of the furnishings are decorated with those same tangling vines of roses and thorns. I reach out to touch one on the dresser and I’m right. Sharp as the tip of a knife.
Jameson adjusts one of the heavy curtains at the arched windows before walking to another door. I cross the room to look out of that window wanting to get my bearings. Plot an escape, maybe. From what I saw a part of the castle was set against cliffs and it looks like that’s where my room is. The very back. Because all I can see is the raging Atlantic below.
Jameson clears his throat and I turn. “The ensuite.”
I glance inside to be polite. “It’s all very lovely,” I say, because it is, it’s all lovely. And creepy as fuck.
“I’m glad you find it so,” Jameson says, clearly pleased. “I will return for you in a half an hour to take you to the conservatory for lunch,” he says and walks toward the door.
“I’ll wait for my husband to have lunch together,” I say although I know he heard me the first time.
“The Blackstone brothers will have lunch with Master Robertson. They’ll be meeting until late, I’m afraid. Should you need anything in the meantime, ring this bell.” He points out the bell.