“I’msatisfied,” muttered Mr. Delacorte.
“Well!” said Mrs. Pariseau. “Now that we’ve settled that, shall we read the story, or save it for another evening?”
“To be truthful, Mrs. Pariseau,” Lillias said suddenly, sounding a trifle peevish, “I don’t know why a myth about a young woman beingheld prisoneragainst her will is entertaining reading.”
Her mother snorted.
“Yet aren’t most novels about people compelled to be where they don’t want to be?” Hugh said. “No doubt because we’ve all had that experience at one time or another. If they weren’t, we’d hardly have any stories at all. For instance,Robinson Crusoemade the best of things. He even had a pet parrot.”
“Oh, certainly every story would be improved by the addition of a pet parrot,” Lillias said at once, rather reflexively.
Their gazes clashed in shock, then ricocheted away from each other.
They were shaken and none too pleased by this awkward moment of accord.
A little silence fell.
“How clever of you, Mr. Cassidy. And thenthere’sThe Ghost in the Attic,” Mrs. Pariseau chimed in. “Certainly our heroine had reservations about going into the attic.”
“It gave me shivers, that book,” Dot declared. “She should not have gone up into the attic! She was ever so brave.”
“Ever so stupid, that is,” Mrs. Pariseau muttered. “It’s righttherein the title.”
Dot cast her eyes up from the chess game and met Mrs. Pariseau’s in a mutual brief, stubborn glare.
“Oh, I should like to hear a story about the ghost in the attic. Have you any ghosts here at The Grand Palace on the Thames, Mrs. Durand and Mrs. Breedlove?” Claire was diverted.
“We’ve none at all,” Delilah assured her as Angelique said sweetly, “Eleven or twelve.”
The truth was probably somewhere in between, given the building’s history before it was resurrected as a charming inn. But none had made themselves a nuisance, or even known, yet. Perhaps Gordon the Cat had seen them.
“Perhaps The Grand Palace on the Thames has an attic or a secret stairway?” Claire asked hopefully. “I saw a very tall ladder propped against the wall in the ballroom when I walked by.”
“Well, the ladder is there because I’m helping to finish repairs to the Annex roof, Lady Claire,” Hugh explained. “At the moment, if you climb that ladder, you can see right through to the stars and across the tops of roofs and ships.”
He smiled at her.
Claire’s face went utterly blank.
And then before everyone’s eyes, a sheet of scarlet furled up her face like a venetian blind and her eyes turned to hazy stars.
“Oh for God’s...” Lillias muttered.
“We’ll readThe Ghost in the Atticagain,” Mrs. Pariseau assured Claire. “We’re all quite fond of it.”
As she was still recovering from the cudgeling beauty of Mr. Cassidy’s smile, Claire could not reply.
“I saw the ghost of the word ‘rogue’ on the sign hanging outside,” Lillias said. “Did you perhaps change your mind about the nature of your business, Mrs. Durand, Mrs. Hardy, or did you think it would be helpful to label the contents of the building?”
She aimed this right at Hugh.
Delacorte pivoted eagerly, delighted to be able to enlighten her. “It’s such an interesting story. Once upon a time this place was called The Palace of Rogues becauseOW!”
Delacorte glowered at Dot. She’d kicked him. She’d been present for the naming of The Palace of Rogues and it was a sacred moment for her.
“Not a single rogue has ever set foot through the door of The Grand Palace on the Thames,” Delilah assured everyone in the room, which was more or less true, give or take an interloper, and depending upon how one defined the word, and given that it had been christened that only when she’d inherited the building. But she crossed her fingers in her lap beneath her knitting all the same. “Our interview process is very thorough for that precise reason.”
“They even interviewedus, Lillias,” her mother reminded her.
