“You must be tired after such a long trip,” said Sylvia. “Let’s take care of your registration and show you to your room. Matthew will help you with your bags.” She signaled to a young man with curly blond hair, who smiled as he approached and reached to take Julia’s luggage from the driver.
Ares put out an arm to stop him. “It’s under control, thanks.” In an undertone, he added to Sylvia, “We don’t need the entire staff knowing where Miss Merchaud will be staying. Security. You understand.” He shrugged at Matthew. “No hard feelings, buddy.”
“Sure,” the other man replied. Julia had the distinct impression he was trying hard not to laugh.
“Matthew is our caretaker,” said Sylvia. “I assure you, he’s quite harmless.”
Julia removed her sunglasses and pretended not to notice the hush that had fallen over the other guests, who were no doubt astonished to see wise Grandma Wilson fromFamily Treegoing full prima donna. “Give him the bags,” she murmured to the driver. He looked from her to Ares, uncertain. “I said, give him the bags.” At last the driver complied, and she smiled an apology to Matthew.
To her relief, the registration process went quickly, and soonshe, Ares, and the caretaker with her bags were following Sylvia upstairs. “Your suite is in the west wing,” Sylvia said as they reached the second-floor landing. “You’ll have your own bath. I trust you’ll be quite comfortable.”
“Thank you,” Julia said, watching as other women went from room to room introducing themselves, as excited and happy as children at summer camp. A few greeted Julia as she passed. She smiled guardedly in response, wondering if they recognized her out of costume, and without all the makeup and flattering lighting.
Sylvia ushered them into a large suite with a four-poster bed covered with a blue-and-red quilt pieced of homespun plaids. “It’s lovely,” Julia said. “Thank you, Sylvia.”
“You’re quite welcome. Now, I’ll let you settle in while I welcome our other guests.”
Ares held up a hand. “Before you go, let’s establish some ground rules.”
The older woman’s eyebrows rose.
“Miss Merchaud’s status may cause some excitement,” Ares went on. “Ordinarily Miss Merchaud goes out of her way to please her fans, but this week, we can’t allow her to be disturbed. To that end, she’ll take her meals in her room rather than the common dining area, and she won’t participate in any of the camp activities other than classroom instruction.”
Sylvia folded her hands. “All of our activities are voluntary, Mr. Ares.”
“Just Ares. Also, is there any way Miss Merchaud could have private instruction rather than attending classes?”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Then at the very least, she’ll need a table to herself at the front of the classroom.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Ares,” Julia interjected, “I don’t think—”
“You’ll also inform your staff and other guests that they are not to address Miss Merchaud or trouble her in any way.”
Sylvia regarded him, bemused. “Do I understand you correctly? You wish me to announce that no one may speak with her?”
“Unless she speaks to them first, yes.”
“That’s absurd, and I won’t do it.” Sylvia fixed Julia with a level gaze. “And I’m tired of talking about you as if you aren’t in the room. If you wish to ignore people who speak to you, that’s your decision, but I won’t offend my other guests by clamping muzzles on them.”
“I never wanted that,” Julia protested. “This wasn’t my idea.”
“I’m pleased to hear that, because otherwise you’ll have a dreadful time this week. What an idea—to come to quilt camp and refuse to make any new friends.” Sylvia shook her head in disapproval and frowned at Ares. “You see, I have a few ground rules of my own. If they don’t suit you, I’d be happy to return your agency’s check.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Ares said tightly. “I’m sure Miss Merchaud will be able to adapt to the circumstances.”
“Good.” Sylvia returned her attention to Julia, her voice noticeably warmer. “Please inform someone on the staff if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more enjoyable.” Her eyes flicked to Ares as if getting rid of him would be a step in the right direction. With that, she and the caretaker left the room, closing the door behind them.
“What a crazy old bat,” Ares muttered.
“I found her quite pleasant,” Julia said. “And I do wish you had consulted me before deciding I should isolate myself in my room all week. Maybe I would have enjoyed—”
“You’re not here to enjoy yourself. You’re here to work.”
“Observing quilters would help me prepare for my role.”
