Page 15 of Scarlet Angel

“I woke this morning in the Savoy.”

“Well, yes, but before?”

“No. My mother and aunt like Paris, Madrid, Barcelona. Obviously, Rome. They’ve talked about London, but…I was supposed to visit Willow.” Why the hell didn’t I make that happen? I’d been busy, but that hadn’t been my true reason. I hadn’t wanted to know if she’d married a monster. I hadn’t wanted to discover if she’d been hiding the truth about her situation like I had for years. And for that, I missed witnessing her happiness.

“You look so sad.” She fingers her lower lip, the long glossy nail scratching the corner. “I suppose it is the day of the funeral. I’ll leave you to change, and if you want the fire on in here, just flip this switch. All the upstairs fireplaces are gas. Switches are by the mantle. When you’re up for it, maybe tomorrow or the next day, we’ll go to London, and I’ll show you around. There’s so much energy. I’ll go plan… See what reservations we can get.”

She bends her head to peer at her mobile and shuts the door, closing me in.

The furniture in the room, like the furniture downstairs, is ornate and delicate. I have little knowledge of furniture, but I assume the pieces are antiques. A four-poster bed resides between the two windows on the opposing wall. There’s a doorway into a bathroom that is almost as large as the bedroom. I suspect the adjacent room was originally a bedroom, but it’s been divided into a walk-in closet and a luxurious bathroom. A clawfoot tub rests in front of one window overlooking the grounds. My suitcase sits in the walk-in closet.

I could take a bath and forget this day, but I’m in a stranger’s home, and it would be rude to disappear. Instead, I unzip my suitcase and change out of my black business skirt suit. There’s a chilly draft, so I leave my tights on and pull on a sweaterdress. I don’t own many warm items. If the temperature in the house falls overnight, I may need to borrow some clothes from Lina or go shopping.

Willow, did you spend time here? You mentioned this place. Which room did you stay in? Do you have warm clothes packed away in your flat in London? This is so wrong. You should be here. Are you somewhere up above, watching?

After resting beneath a blanket on the bed for what feels like hours, drifting in and out of a light sleep, I leave the room and wander through the still halls. I find my way to the stairs and head down. There must be a more lived-in section of the house.

If these walls could talk, I imagine they would speak of years of life with servants buzzing around lit candles and fireplaces roaring in every room. Perhaps there were balls or the family that built this house had the good fortune to host royalty, possibly the queen. The faint musty smell lingering along the halls must stem from the building’s age, or perhaps it’s the worn, faded Oriental carpets underfoot. I suspect the gilded framed portraits hanging along the walls are original to the home and probably remain in these back hallways because no one cared enough to replace them.

If I lived here, I’d have comfortable rooms somewhere, and I imagine, like my uncle’s homes, those casual rooms would be in the rear of the house, so I turn in that direction at the bottom of the stairs. Further down the hall, an enticing, warm light glows from the crack between two stained doors. As I draw closer, I hear murmurs. Someone speaking, muttering, I think. But when I press my ear to the door, the sound stops abruptly, replaced with a loud bam.

CHAPTER5

NICK

Unknown number

We’re on.

Me

You’re buying. Time?

Unknown number

1800

Me

Affirmative

I open the back of the device, pop out the SIM card, lift the maple gavel, and slam it onto the card.

Movement in my periphery catches my attention.

“Is that a gavel? Like a judge uses?”

Her hair glimmers in the lamplight, like a flame dipped in gold. A soft gray sweaterdress with capped sleeves hugs her curves, from her shoulders, around her breasts, to her trim waist and hips, down to her calves. One hand rests on the door handle.

Ready to take flight. Do I scare her?

“Did you issue a verdict?” she asks, her tone melodic, her presence infusing the space with a warmth the hearth fails to deliver.

I follow her pointed gaze to the wood gavel. “Came with the house.” I set it down and sweep the SIM card remnants into my palm. “You going to enter or loiter in the corridor?”

She remains fixed in place, too far away for me to get a good read.So tentative.

“You think I’ll bite?”

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