The Scarlet Wench by Marni Graff Page A

looked like someone had opened a suitcase and dumped the contents around.
      “Not the tidiest person, is she?” Nora looked around as she cut stems. It would take more time than she had today to sort through anything unusual in this mess.
      Callie made a face. “I’ll set most of this to rights, and it will look the same again tomorrow. And she only slept in here last night for a few hours. A lot of her stuff is in the Royal Suite.”
      Nora remembered the pile of Gemma’s perfume and cosmetics in Grayson’s bathroom. “Helen’s room done?”
      Callie nodded. “Yes, but she asked for extra towels. That woman’s plain weird.”
      Nora laughed. “She likes to stay in character. But then I’ve never met her out of character, so I’ve no idea what she’s really like.” A thought struck Nora. “Callie, you didn’t by any chance leave my blue robe in Helen’s room the other day?”
      Callie frowned. “Why would I do that?”
      Nora shook her head. “Not a clue. But she found it and returned it.”
      “That’s even stranger. Maybe she liked the color and wanted it for a turban.” Callie laughed and shrugged the matter off.
      Nora accompanied Callie to the linen closet. They heard the washer buzz. “You want to put that load in the dryer? I’ll take the towels to Helen’s room.”
      “Sure thing.” Callie skipped down the back stairs.
      Nora piled up clean towels and pushed open the door to Helen Mochrie’s room. She fixed the flowers and put her basket down. Inside the yellow room, the full flavor of Madame Arcati was on view. A vibrant, rose-patterned scarf was thrown over the table lamp; three turbans in a rainbow of colors stood lined up along the deep windowsill. The closet door stood open to reveal a violet broomstick skirt competing with a sapphire quilted jacket.
      Nora placed the extra towels in the bathroom. She peeked into a round cosmetic case. A smattering of makeup, brushes and deodorant filled it. A thick, pungent odor came from a large bottle of musky cologne that stood on the counter, its heavy scent permeating the whole suite.
      She quickly scanned the closet and under the bed. Not a dust bunny in sight. Nora reached for the top dresser drawer when a voice from the doorway stopped her hand in mid-flight.
      “You wouldn’t be about to open that drawer, Nora?” Declan Barnes stood in the doorway, his dark hair catching the sunlight pouring in the from the hallway skylight.
      Nora snatched back her hand. “Just checking for dust.” She ran her finger over the top and turned it toward him. “Clean as a whistle.”
      She saw him bite the side of his cheek to avoid a smile.
    He crooked his finger and motioned her toward him. “Then you’ll be able to leave and close the door behind you.”
      And he waited while she did just that.

Chapter Thirteen

    “I was the victim of an aberration.”
    Charles: Act II , Scene 1

    10:12 AM

    Declan led Nora down the back stairs. He could hear Sean banging on a pot in the kitchen. When Agnes had told Declan that Nora was upstairs, he’d instinctively known that the news that Grayson’s brake cables had been cut had brought out the redhead’s insatiable need to put her nose where it didn’t belong. He stopped suddenly in the middle of the staircase and turned around. Nora was on the stair behind him; they were eye to eye, close enough for him to see the gold flecks in her green eyes and to catch her lemony scent.
      “What?” She gave him a wide-eyed look.
      He resisted the impulse to shake his finger at her again, remembering Sean’s reaction the last time. He was not her father. “Don’t pretend innocence with me, Nora.” He lowered his voice so Agnes wouldn’t hear them. “I know damn well you would have opened that drawer if I hadn’t stopped you.” To her credit, Nora looked down and didn’t argue, which frustrated him even more. How could she have scruples one minute and none the next?
      He