Page 107 of Storm of Bells
‘I don’t think so, no.’
‘Miss Linton?’
‘Yes, Sir?’
‘Move your hand! Now!’
‘What’s the hurry? Would you like it back onyourderrière?’
‘Miss Linton…!’
‘Careful! Another staircase.’
‘Where in Mammon’s name are you leadingme?’
‘You’ll see.’
‘So you plan to graciously remove your handfrom my eyes at some point, do you?’
‘If you ask nicely.’
‘I. Do. Not. Ask.’
You asked for me.
But I didn’t say that out loud—because Ididn’t need to. He knew. I knew. That was all that wasnecessary.
‘It won’t be long now…just around one morecorner, and…voilà!We’re here.’
I stopped, but still didn’t remove my handfrom his face.
‘And where is “here”, exactly, MissLinton?’
There was a soft click.
‘What was that?’ he demanded.
‘Me. I just opened the door.’
‘The door to what?’
For a moment, I answered with nothing butsilence—just for the fun of it. Then I started to slowly lead himforward. ‘The door to your room.’
‘This isn’t my room! Even with no eyes, myroom is on the ground floor, and this place is not—’
‘Pardon,’ I apologised, pressing a soft kissonto his cheek. ‘I shouldn’t have saidyourroom. I meantourroom.’
And I let my hand drop from his eyes.
Beneath my fingers, I felt him stiffen.
‘What the…!’
In front of us was spread the most beautiful,welcoming room in existence. It wasn’t too small, and it wasn’t tooenormous, but large enough to accommodate a big, plush carpetspread through the entire room, a beautiful wrought iron chandelierwith a single frugal little candle casting the evening scene intowarm, shadowy light, and…
The bed.
It was a massive four-poster, fashioned fromdark mahogany. Have you heard the expression ‘king-sized-bed’?Well, this one was king-and-queen sized. The covers were a dark,sea-coloured blue-grey, the cushions a nice, warm, chocolate brown.It should have been a horrible combination. It should have beengruesomely clashing—but somehow, it wasn’t. Somehow, it fitperfectly together.
