She looks up at me, her eyes are confused. “Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
“Goodnight, Autumn.”
“Goodnight, Rocco.”
I turn and as I reach the doorway, I see William walking towards me.
“Goodnight, My Lord,” he murmurs.
I walk towards my office. I pick up the phone and dial.
“Hello, Rocco,” Isadora purrs.
“Stay away from her,” I growl.
“She doesn’t just belong to you. She belongs to all of us,” she replies sweetly.
My hands clench with frustration and anger. “How did you find her?”
“Ah, that. You did it the old-fashioned way. We hit pay dirt with ancestry.com.”
“Don’t make me choose between her and you,” I warn.
She laughs, a careless, mirthless, soulless laughter. “Don’t be a spoilsport, little brother. May the best man… or woman win.”
The severed connection whirls in my ear. I lay the receiver back into its cradle, and walk towards the front door. I open it and a gust of cold wet wind rushes into my face. I walk out into the relentless rain. It soaks my clothes and steams my breath. I pass through the gates and follow the little path into the forest. Under the canopy of the trees I pause. The storm rages on and rain drips from the leaves.
I need to think.
And I think best when I’m hunting.
Chapter 23
Autumn
“You will find everything you need on the bed and in the bathroom, but should you require anything else please do not hesitate to ring that bell over there.” He points towards a bell next to a massive dark wood, four poster bed.
“Thanks,” I say, gripping my candlestick.
“Will you be having breakfast in the morning?”
“Er… no. I have to get to work.”
“Ah. What time would you like to leave tomorrow?”
“Well, I have to be at work by nine o’clock.”
“In that case please come down by eight o’clock and Raoul will take you down the mountain.”
“That would be wonderful, thank you.”
“Good night, Miss Delaney.”
“Good night, William.”
After he leaves, I look around the large room. There are three candelabras placed around it, but the edges of the room are full shadows. There is a vague sensation I have gone back in time. A large tapestry hangs on one wall and the curtains, which are all drawn shut, look thick and costly. An open door leads off the en-suite bathroom.
I walk over to the bed where one end has been turned up. There is a small silver tray with two silver foil wrapped chocolates on it. The linen looks very white and crisp and smells of lavender. I touch it, and am surprised by how smooth and opulent it feels. Almost silky. I think of my cheap, scratchy sheets back in my caravan. How wonderful it must be to sleep in a bed like this every day.
I sit on the bed. The mattress is luxuriously thick and bouncy. Unwrapping the chocolate, I pop it into my mouth. As it melts on my tongue, I run my fingers down the intricately patterned silver and dusky-green, brocade canopy hanging from the four posters of the bed.
Truly, a bed fit for a Princess.
I eat the second chocolate before I venture out into the bathroom. I find some neatly folded clothes laid out on a cream and blue armchair. When I whisk the first one open, I find, to my delight, it is an old-fashioned, full sleeved, nightgown made of cotton and lace. Underneath it is a fluffy towel. A magnificent bath with gold taps and clawed feet stands on a pink marble plinth. The idea of having a bath in such sumptuous surroundings is alluring. Especially, since I haven’t had a bath in years. It’s always a quick shower in my tiny plastic cubicle.
I run a bath and pour sweet smelling salts into it. Then I lock the bedroom door, and step into the steaming water.
It feels wonderfully sensuous to slip into the silky, scented water. The sensation of decadence is magnified by the candlelight. I luxuriate in the warm water for a long time, thinking of Rocco. I replay everything that happened tonight in my head. He is a mystery. A beautiful mystery. I’d have stayed longer, if my phone had not started to ring. Knowing it can only be Sam, I run to it, leaving wet patches on the floor.
“Hey Sam,” I say, as I put her on speaker, and wrap myself inside a fluffy towel.
“OMG, you won’t believe what has just happened,” she screams excitedly.
“What?” I ask, immediately getting caught up in her exhilaration.
“Remember that app contest I entered?”
“Vaguely,” I murmur.
“I’ve won it. I got the first prize. They sent me an email this morning, but I never saw it until now.”
“Oh, wow! Congratulations, Sam. That’s amazing.”
“I can hardly believe it.”
“There were three thousand entries and I beat all of them.”
I feel almost choked with happiness for her. “Oh, Sam. I am so proud of you,” I whisper.