Calder Promise by Janet Dailey Page A

built?”
    “Which part?” Sebastian countered. “The original structure was built in the seventeenth century. Over the years several additions have been made to it. It’s been remodeled and renovated more times than I can count. Which is why you’ll find a hodgepodge of architectural styles in evidence, not to mention a jumble of rooms.” He motioned to a spacious hall off the upper landing. “You’ll be staying in the guest wing, an eighteenth-century contribution.”
    “Will there be other guests here this weekend?” Laura wondered.
    “Not guests, although my sister Helen intends to join us for dinner this evening. I thought it proper to even out the numbers,” Sebastian explained with a hint of amusement in his glance.
    “Is your sister married?” Laura stole a glance at Boone to catch his reaction to the news.
    “Divorced,” Sebastian replied as there arose a loud clatter and groan from somewhere within the walls. “The lift,” he said in explanation. “I did warn you it was noisy.”
    An Oriental rug ran the length of the hall, leaving only the outer edges of the hardwood floor exposed to view. There was a well-worn path down the center of it, an indication of the traffic it had seen.
    Sebastian paused in front of the second door on the right side and turned to Boone. “Here is your room. Your father will be occupying the next guest suite. The adjoining servant’s quarters should be suitable for his valet.” He turned the ornate brass knob and gave the door a push, opening it for Boone’s admission. “I hope it will be satisfactory.” After nodding to Boone, he switched his attention to Laura. “You’ll have the room across the hall.”
    “Knock on my door when you’re ready to go down,” Boone told her, pausing by the door to his room.
    “I will,” Laura promised as she moved toward her own. Her glance landed on a small brass frame affixed to her door, a twin to the one she had noticed on Boone’s door. “What’s this for, Sebastian?”
    A smile deepened the corners of his mouth. “How quick you are to notice one of Crawford Hall’s former customs. A rather naughty one, I might add.”
    Her interest caught, she tipped her head at a curious angle. “Naughty? How?”
    “It goes back to the days when it was considered uncivilized for husbands and wives to share the same bedroom. As you can see, this brass frame has a slot that allows you to insert a card identifying the occupant of the room. Obviously it prevents someone from entering the wrong bedroom, but it was also useful for”—he paused in emphasis—“amorous purposes, proper or not. As the French would say, chacun à sa chacune, which translates more or less to ‘each man to each woman.’ ”
    The gleam in his eyes had her pulse quickening. “Fascinating,” she murmured, her own libido stimulated by the subject matter.
    “As a footnote, I might also mention that there is some indication that installation of the cardholders occurred around the time that your Lady Elaine lived here. However, it’s difficult to say whether they were installed at her direction.”
    A soft laugh rolled from Laura’s throat. “Something tells me I would have liked that woman.” She started into the room, then paused, giving him an over-the-shoulder look, one hand on the door. “By the way, does Crawford Hall have any resident ghosts?”
    That lazily sexy smile curved his mouth again. “If it does, I’ve never met them. Why do you ask?”
    She arched one eyebrow at him, an expression that was both subtly provocative and suggestive. “I was just wondering whether I might have any surprise visitors tonight.”
    “One never knows, does one?” There was something delightfully wicked in his expression. Desire fluttered in her stomach in response to it. “Your luggage will be up directly. Drinks will be served in the library around seven. Someone will be about to show you the way.”
    “Drinks at seven. I’ll be there.”
    The elevator