Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“What on earth were you doing in the attic?” Isla asks as, at the same time, Sergei repeats in Russian, “Hundreds of bones?”
“Not what you’re thinking,” I murmur, refocusing on Isla and her sons sitting on the back seat. If he’d been in the mausoleum, possibly.
“I was looking for treasure,” Archie replies with a shrug that’s quickly followed by a jaw-cracking yawn. “Holly said I could. She came with me to make sure I didn’t fall through the ceiling.”
“Oh, well. I’m pleased you weren’t up there alone. But those bones, they used to hang in a doctor’s surgery.”
“In the olden days?” Archie asks. Head tilted to the early morning sun, his eyes fluttering closed as he yawns again.
“Yes. I’m not sure how your grandfather came to have them,” she ponders. “Picked them up at an auction, maybe. But they were definitely his.”
“That’s what I told the class.” Eyes still closed, Archie’s smile seems more sly than slumberous.
“That’s not exactly what he said,” Hugh interjects with a snicker.
“Yes, I did!” Archies suddenly jerks straight. “I told them, ‘This is my grandfather’s skull. I found it in a box in the attic along with the rest of his bones.’ And then one of the girls started to cry because girls are really silly.”
Sergei nods his agreement at the same time as his mother chastises Archie.
“Just girls, Mummy. Not grown-up ladies. And Clarissa Fraser is the silliest.” He harrumphs. “My friend Paolo wasn’t scared, and he asked to hold it, but the teacher snatched it from my hands before I could pass it over. When she put it on the shelf, someone asked if he’d been murdered. Then someone else asked if I’d seen his ghost.”
“Oh, Lord.” Isla presses a head to her hand.
“I told them he died because he liked whisky and wicked wimmen too much,” he says, imitating a Scots accent perfectly. “And I know that because I heard Chrissy say so.”
My eyes meet Isla’s in the mirror, hers dancing with mirth. “Well, it certainly sounds like you told a good tale. But what did Miss Maddison want with Holland?”
“She told her, in a very mean voice, that bones aren’t allowed on the school premises. Then she asked what Holly was going to do about it. Holly just ruffled my hair and told me I was a budding lesbian.”
“Thespian, darling.”
Hugh snickers.
“Miss Maddison said I ought to be told off not encouraged. Then she asked where I’d gotten such a thing, and Holly told her the best joke.”
“Did she?” Isla returns in a reedy tone.
“She said, ‘Who knows?’” Archie throws up his arms. “She said she’d have to investigate because we have a dungeon, our own graveyard, and a mausoleum, so really, it could’ve come from anywhere. Miss Maddison went a bit red, and her mouth fell open like this.” Archie pulls a face that’s all eyes and tonsils. “Then she said, ‘well, I never!’ and Holland said if she didn’t believe it, she should check it and that for twelve pounds fifty, she could visit the castle to find out for herself.”
32
Isla
“What’s that?”
“Oh. I, err…” I stare at the cream silk rippling between my fingertips. I’ve never seen it before. It’s certainly not mine because it’s not the kind of nightdress you wear for sleeping in. But something that was intended for the dark of night. “I think Auntie Holland must’ve put some of her things in my case by mistake,” I say, shoving it back into my suitcase. I notice the Agent Provocateur nightdress still has the eye-bulging price tags attached, so I pull the silk out of my case because something of that value deserves better treatment. Folding the silk more gently, I consider how kind it was of Holland to pack it. And how the reality of the situation is very different.
“This is a nice room,” Archie decrees, jumping up onto the bed. “This bed isn’t as big as Uncle Van’s but it’s just as comfortable.” He glances around the sage green walls, the rustic wooden furniture, running his fingers over the carved wooden headboard fashioned to look like a huge leaf.
Set on a hill with a backdrop of a stark volcanic outcrop, Van’s property is beautiful. A modern take on the local architecture, it’s sleek and expansive with wide verandas and plantation style shutters, muted tones and cool marble floors. The room I’ve been housed in (alone) would rival that of any five-star hotel, the bathroom, in fact, is bigger than my bedroom back home. Overlooking a lagoon style pool and gardens that are a tropical paradise of lush green palm trees and vibrant tropical flowers, the view stretches over the tops of the palm trees to a golden beach and the Caribbean Sea beyond. More like a boutique hotel than a home. It’s a tropical paradise. If I owned it, I don’t think I’d ever leave.