Page 34 of Let Me Be Your Hero
“I do,” Harrington confirmed. “I need to let everyone know that Izzie is safe. But I’ll be back tomorrow for the ceremony, and my mother will arrive in an hour or so to chaperone her overnight.”
“The countess is coming!” his mother screeched. “Lady Cheltenham, staying atmyhouse! Oh, this is wonderful, absolutely wonderful!” She turned to her husband. “We must make sure everything is perfect!”
“She must have the best bedroom,” his father said. “What do you think, the gold room?”
“The gold room?” His mother was already rushing toward the stairs, with his father close on her heels. “Are you sure, my darling? I was thinking perhaps the Emerald Suite…”
Archibald saw Harrington out, then locked the door behind him.
He offered Izzie his arm. “Would you like to see the rest of the house?” This seemed like a good place to start, as she seemed to like his mother’s overwrought Gothic décor.
She squeezed his arm with both hands. “Yes, please!”
As he studied her enraptured face, suddenly Archibald didn’t mind so much that every room, including the closet that housedhis chamber pot, was elaborately decorated with arches and spires, trefoils and crockets. He’d mostly grown inured to his mother’s lurid taste, but using that particular room always made him feel strangely guilty, as if he were shitting in Westminster Abbey.
But if it made Izzie happy, that was all that mattered.
CHAPTER 17
Izzie could not believe her luck. Not only would she get to marry Archibald, but she would also get to live in thismarveloushouse. She had begged her father for years to let her add some Gothic touches to her bedroom, but he had always refused, on the grounds that they were “gauche” and “melodramatic.”
Well, “gauche and melodramatic” more or less described her personality. And as far as she was concerned, the Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy manse wasperfect.
All the rooms were tawdry in the best possible way, and Izzie exclaimed over each and every one. The dining room was in the style of a medieval great hall, complete with tapestries and a huge fireplace, and the parlor Archibald showed her could have passed for the interior of a cathedral but for the plush velvet sofas.
The only room that was a disappointment was the library, not because of the design, but because it didn’t contain a single Gothic novel. It was all expensive antiques and first editions. As Izzie remarked to Archibald, they were, “the type of books that everyone admires but no one actually reads.”
Archibald frowned, studying her face. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you copies of all your favorites. You can build your own collection.”
Izzie eyed the packed shelves. “I don’t think there’s room.”
“There will be,” he muttered.
“There will? How?”
Suddenly, his brown eyes were bright with excitement. “An idea just came to me. It’ll be better if I show you. Come, the room is on the first floor.”
He led her toward the stairs. As they passed through the foyer, Izzie was distracted by the black stone statue at the foot of the stairs. She paused to peer at it. Was it possible that she was mistaken? Or did the Nettlethorpe-Ogilvys have a statue of a man’s rear end adorning their entryway?
Archibald cleared his throat. “Please pardon the statue of the, er…”
“Man’s fundament,” she supplied. He seemed so horrified she couldn’t resist teasing him. “You should see your ears. They’ve gone crimson. Why are you so embarrassed? Did you perchance serve as the model?”
“No.” He ran a hand over his eyes. “It’s Egyptian and predates me by a few millennia. It’s of Anubis.”
“The Arse of Anubis,” Izzie breathed.
Archibald glanced at her, surprised. “That’s how I think of it as well.”
“Naturally.”
His face was pinched. “It’s tasteless and absurd.”
“Yes,” Izzie agreed solemnly, circling the statue to examine it from another angle. “I do believe that’s what I love about it.”
A smile broke over his face. He studied her for a beat, his eyes warm. “Come. There’s something I should probably show you.”
He led her not up the stairs but toward the back of the ground floor. He glanced around as if to make sure they werealone, then dropped his voice low. “My parents are the ones who purchased the Arse of Anubis. They paid more than a thousand pounds for it. If you’re going to be living under the same roof as them, you should be forewarned.”
