Page 19 of Strangers She Knows

“Very dusty to my mind.” Olympia sounded vaguely disapproving. “Those books shouldn’t be disturbed.”

“Grandma says if a book isn’t read, it cries in its soul.” Rae sounded stiff and disapproving.

“I don’t know what that means.” Olympia wheeled around and across the hall. She waited until the Di Lucas had joined her and threw open another door. “The dining room is here. I’ll be serving breakfast at seven—or if you wish, later.” Her glare indicated she would not approve of a different hour.

“We can try seven for a while. See if that works.” Max sounded mild.

Olympia’s outrage made Kellen hide her grin. No wonder Verona had expressed doubts about Olympia Paolergio. She was a gorgon.

Olympia’s heels struck each step sharply as she led them upstairs. “I put the child in this bedroom, obviously designed for a Morgade daughter.” She opened the door close to the top of the stairs and gestured Rae in.

Rae eyeballed Olympia as she walked in; she wasn’t used to being called “the child.” But once she entered, she forgot her chagrin in a breath of awe.

The room was gloriously pink. The bed had floaty curtains and a canopy. All the furniture was painted white with flecks of gold. An oriental rug in subdued tones of blue and gold covered the oak floor. Although faded by time, this was the room for a princess. “This is…” Rae’s voice faded. She went to the bed and sat on the old-fashioned bedspread, then slowly reclined and stared up at the gauzy canopy.

“Okay. That settles that. Where do we sleep?” Max clearly had no doubt Olympia had made the decision for them.

“I put you in the master bedroom.” Olympia led them down the long corridor toward the double doors at the end, and flung them open. “It has an attached bathroom.”

Kellen stepped in.

Max followed.

Kellen stopped cold.

Max bumped into her.

“Holy cow,” she said in awe and horror.

The room was easily the size of the downstairs ballroom and featured the bed as a centerpiece. Placed on a raised platform, the four broad, polished oak posts reached toward the tent-shaped, robin’s-egg-blue ceiling where, dangling from the highest point, was a large—no, wait, extra-large—Moroccan metal lamp.

Kellen cleared her throat. “This looks like a combination of Arabian Nights and primitive phallic art.”

Max choked on a cough. Or was it a laugh? “So, dear, not this room?”

Kellen cast him a disgusted look and turned to Olympia Paolergio. “Is there somewhere else we can rest our weary heads?”

Olympia looked offended and astonished. “I was told to prepare the master bedroom.”

“With one hundred rooms, there must be something less…suggestive.” Kellen started back down the corridor, throwing open doors.

Olympia hurried ahead of her. “That’s not necessary, Mrs. Di Luca, I’ve been organizing the house ever since I arrived and I have several suggestions. If you’re sure you don’t want—” She gestured back at the master bedroom.

“I am so sure.”

“I can certainly see who wears the pants in this family.” Olympia huffed her way to a wide door next to the master bedroom. “This was Mrs. Morgade’s bedroom. It also has an attached bathroom. If you wish to seek further, I must tell you—most bedrooms do not.”

The Morgades hadn’t slept together. How interesting. Kellen walked into a room decorated sparsely with chests and tables and a few well-chosen sculptures of Japanese origin. The queen-size bed hugged the interior wall and faced the windows where every morning they could watch the sun rise. “This will do.” Actually, Kellen quite liked it.

“Yes, dear,” Max said meekly.

“You can sleep in the master if you prefer.” Kellen looked daggers at him.

“No, dear.”

Kellen turned to Olympia. “Will you ask Dylan to bring our bags up here to our room?”

Olympia huffed again. “When you’re ready, come to the dining room. I’ve prepared a snack.” She departed.

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