make it sound like I’m going to spend the rest my life in this weird place,” Isabel said sharply. She waited for panic to rise in her—why wouldn’t she grow anxious at the idea of being kept a prisoner for her whole life because of the bizarre whim of a paranormal creature?—but nothing happened. She remained calm, an actress portraying panic rather than actually feeling it.
When had this change been wrought? Why did the opposite—the idea of leaving Sanctuary—suddenly disorient her?
Margaret’s blue eyes flickered over her before she set down the creamer. “There’s no telling what the future will bring, but you’re here now. May as well make the most of it. You’re free to access almost all of Sanctuary, which—trust me, Miss—contains a lifetime of interesting amusements. Lord Delraven told me before he left this morning to tell you that you may have run of the place, although he did ask that I accompany you until you become used to the premises. One can easily get lost here and wander for hours. Jessie told me he never got a chance to show you Delraven’s library, which is truly spectacular. Perhaps today you could pick out a book or two and relax poolside. At your word, I’ll send for a masseuse and you could get a nice massage—”
“ Massage ,” Isabel repeated incredulously. She broke into laughter at Margaret’s wide-eyed look of innocence. “Margaret, you’re priceless. You mention that my captor is offering to treat me to a spa experience so nonchalantly.” She continued to laugh under her breath as she walked toward the bathroom, sipping her coffee.
“There’s lotion, shampoo and conditioner beneath the sink, dear, and bath salts next to the tub. I put your towels on the warmer.”
Isabel paused and glanced around. Margaret’s face was completely serious, but the sparkle in her eyes hinted that she was every bit as aware of the humor and strangeness of the situation as Isabel was.
After she bathed and dressed, Margaret and she spent a lovely day. Isabel had suspended her sense of judgment as best she could and found herself truly enjoying Margaret’s company.
They’d wandered around a library that seemed as vast and impressive to her as the Library of Congress. Afterward, Margaret mysteriously told her she wanted her to see something. The older woman led her to a pair of ornately carved, white-painted doors and opened them. Isabel squinted, trying to see in the pitch blackness. Suddenly the room was illuminated.
She gasped in stunned pleasure.
It wasn’t a room at all—it was a theatre. A perfect, majestic little theatre.
“It’s a miniature of the Gielgud,” she said hollowly, referring to the London theatre designed in the ornate, Louis XVI style. She’d attended a play for the first time at the Gielgud with Lester Dee just days ago. She stared in wonder at the ornate gilt and wood carvings, not really believing what she was saying.
Margaret looked pleased. “You’ve been to the Gielgud? Yes, Delraven had it modeled after that theatre. He loves to attend plays.”
“He does?” Isabel asked, still vibrating in pleasure at the discovery of this latest miracle housed within Sanctuary.
“Oh yes,” Margaret enthused. “Lord Delraven is a great patron of the arts. He told me to tell you that as his guest, you may choose any play that you like and perform whatever part you choose. He will provide the cast, crew and director.”
Isabel laughed. Surely Margaret was joking.
“Come, dear,” Margaret said, waving excitedly for her to follow her down the aisle between rows of scarlet velvet chairs. “The theatre contains its own library, filled with scripts from every century and every part of the world. You’re going to think you died and went to heaven.”
“Have I?” Isabel whispered, not moving. Margaret heard her and came to a halt. She blinked when she took in Isabel’s slain expression.
“Delraven meant it to be a pleasure for you, Miss. He
When had this change been wrought? Why did the opposite—the idea of leaving Sanctuary—suddenly disorient her?
Margaret’s blue eyes flickered over her before she set down the creamer. “There’s no telling what the future will bring, but you’re here now. May as well make the most of it. You’re free to access almost all of Sanctuary, which—trust me, Miss—contains a lifetime of interesting amusements. Lord Delraven told me before he left this morning to tell you that you may have run of the place, although he did ask that I accompany you until you become used to the premises. One can easily get lost here and wander for hours. Jessie told me he never got a chance to show you Delraven’s library, which is truly spectacular. Perhaps today you could pick out a book or two and relax poolside. At your word, I’ll send for a masseuse and you could get a nice massage—”
“ Massage ,” Isabel repeated incredulously. She broke into laughter at Margaret’s wide-eyed look of innocence. “Margaret, you’re priceless. You mention that my captor is offering to treat me to a spa experience so nonchalantly.” She continued to laugh under her breath as she walked toward the bathroom, sipping her coffee.
“There’s lotion, shampoo and conditioner beneath the sink, dear, and bath salts next to the tub. I put your towels on the warmer.”
Isabel paused and glanced around. Margaret’s face was completely serious, but the sparkle in her eyes hinted that she was every bit as aware of the humor and strangeness of the situation as Isabel was.
After she bathed and dressed, Margaret and she spent a lovely day. Isabel had suspended her sense of judgment as best she could and found herself truly enjoying Margaret’s company.
They’d wandered around a library that seemed as vast and impressive to her as the Library of Congress. Afterward, Margaret mysteriously told her she wanted her to see something. The older woman led her to a pair of ornately carved, white-painted doors and opened them. Isabel squinted, trying to see in the pitch blackness. Suddenly the room was illuminated.
She gasped in stunned pleasure.
It wasn’t a room at all—it was a theatre. A perfect, majestic little theatre.
“It’s a miniature of the Gielgud,” she said hollowly, referring to the London theatre designed in the ornate, Louis XVI style. She’d attended a play for the first time at the Gielgud with Lester Dee just days ago. She stared in wonder at the ornate gilt and wood carvings, not really believing what she was saying.
Margaret looked pleased. “You’ve been to the Gielgud? Yes, Delraven had it modeled after that theatre. He loves to attend plays.”
“He does?” Isabel asked, still vibrating in pleasure at the discovery of this latest miracle housed within Sanctuary.
“Oh yes,” Margaret enthused. “Lord Delraven is a great patron of the arts. He told me to tell you that as his guest, you may choose any play that you like and perform whatever part you choose. He will provide the cast, crew and director.”
Isabel laughed. Surely Margaret was joking.
“Come, dear,” Margaret said, waving excitedly for her to follow her down the aisle between rows of scarlet velvet chairs. “The theatre contains its own library, filled with scripts from every century and every part of the world. You’re going to think you died and went to heaven.”
“Have I?” Isabel whispered, not moving. Margaret heard her and came to a halt. She blinked when she took in Isabel’s slain expression.
“Delraven meant it to be a pleasure for you, Miss. He
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