Read Online Much Ado In the Moonlight by Lynn Kurland - Free Book Online
Authors: Lynn Kurland
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ample bosom. “I’ll do what I can for the cause, Miss. We can’t have a proper play without proper rest for the players now, can we? Not that ye’ll need worry about that,” she said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “We have lights out on time here at the inn.”
Victoria leaned in closer, in spite of herself. “We do?”
Mrs. Pruitt nodded knowingly. “I need peace and quiet for me investigations.”
Victoria immediately had a vision of an Inland Revenue audit that would make the IRS look like a bunch of third-grade math students. “Investigations?” she asked warily.
“Don’t ye know?”
Victoria blinked. “Know what?”
Mrs. Pruitt looked her over, then straightened suddenly. “Nothing,” she said in a businesslike tone. “Nothing to trouble yourself over, Miss. Your room is up the stairs. Last one on the right. The nicest—after Lady Blythwood’s, of course. I’ve a map where I’ve placed the rest of your troupe, if you’d care to study it. I daresay you could use a bit of supper first, though, then a good rest tonight.”
Victoria found herself with a key in her hand and Megan’s hand on her back, pushing her toward the stairs before she could slow things down long enough to ask just what kind of investigations Mrs. Pruitt was talking about. She would have stopped on the stairs, but Megan was now pulling her.
“Later,” Megan said. “Go take a shower. I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour for dinner and we’ll talk then.”
“Why didn’t we talk on the train?” Victoria asked, hoping she would make it to the shower before she fell asleep.
“You were drooling. And snoring. Not conducive to conversations of full disclosure.”
Victoria managed to stop in front of her room. She looked at her sister. “Full disclosure? What have I gotten myself into?”
“Something it’s too late to get out of. The roller coaster has already left the station,” Megan said with an unwhole-somely amused smile. “All you can do now is hang on for the ride.”
Victoria clutched her key. “I’m going to blame Thomas for this.”
“It worked for me.”
And with that Megan sailed, in a wobbly sort of way, into her room, leaving Victoria standing out in the hallway, wondering what she was supposed to do now.
Key. Lock. Dinner.
“Oh,” she said, non-plussed. “Thank you.”
She was standing in the shower before she realized that the voice hadn’t been her sister’s.
Victoria discovered she had fallen asleep on the way back from the shower only because she woke up in the dark, starving and disoriented. Then again, she’d been disoriented for most of the day, so maybe that was nothing new. But the hunger she might be able to fix.
She felt around for the lamp. After she’d managed to get that on, she sat up and dragged her fingers through hair that was no doubt matted on one side and riotously curly on the other. Well, there was surely no one left awake to see. She dressed in dirty jeans and walked to the door. She paused.
She had heard a voice, hadn’t she?
She left her room before she could think about it too seriously. Obviously, she was having a hypoglycemic hallucination brought on by airline food and exacerbated by no sleep. She would be more rational after raiding the fridge and returning immediately to bed.
She made her way down the stairs, thanks to the night-light on the reception desk tucked back under the staircase. She walked across the entryway and began trying doors. Sitting room, library, parlor; she examined each in turn. They were wonderful, looking as if they’d been plucked from the past and set down in the present with tender care. She closed the door on the parlor and continued her search for sustenance.
It took only one more door before she found the dining room. She walked through it, with its tables already laid for breakfast, then pushed her way into the kitchen.
Megan sat in a chair, toasting her toes against an Aga stove. Three older gentlemen
Victoria leaned in closer, in spite of herself. “We do?”
Mrs. Pruitt nodded knowingly. “I need peace and quiet for me investigations.”
Victoria immediately had a vision of an Inland Revenue audit that would make the IRS look like a bunch of third-grade math students. “Investigations?” she asked warily.
“Don’t ye know?”
Victoria blinked. “Know what?”
Mrs. Pruitt looked her over, then straightened suddenly. “Nothing,” she said in a businesslike tone. “Nothing to trouble yourself over, Miss. Your room is up the stairs. Last one on the right. The nicest—after Lady Blythwood’s, of course. I’ve a map where I’ve placed the rest of your troupe, if you’d care to study it. I daresay you could use a bit of supper first, though, then a good rest tonight.”
Victoria found herself with a key in her hand and Megan’s hand on her back, pushing her toward the stairs before she could slow things down long enough to ask just what kind of investigations Mrs. Pruitt was talking about. She would have stopped on the stairs, but Megan was now pulling her.
“Later,” Megan said. “Go take a shower. I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour for dinner and we’ll talk then.”
“Why didn’t we talk on the train?” Victoria asked, hoping she would make it to the shower before she fell asleep.
“You were drooling. And snoring. Not conducive to conversations of full disclosure.”
Victoria managed to stop in front of her room. She looked at her sister. “Full disclosure? What have I gotten myself into?”
“Something it’s too late to get out of. The roller coaster has already left the station,” Megan said with an unwhole-somely amused smile. “All you can do now is hang on for the ride.”
Victoria clutched her key. “I’m going to blame Thomas for this.”
“It worked for me.”
And with that Megan sailed, in a wobbly sort of way, into her room, leaving Victoria standing out in the hallway, wondering what she was supposed to do now.
Key. Lock. Dinner.
“Oh,” she said, non-plussed. “Thank you.”
She was standing in the shower before she realized that the voice hadn’t been her sister’s.
Victoria discovered she had fallen asleep on the way back from the shower only because she woke up in the dark, starving and disoriented. Then again, she’d been disoriented for most of the day, so maybe that was nothing new. But the hunger she might be able to fix.
She felt around for the lamp. After she’d managed to get that on, she sat up and dragged her fingers through hair that was no doubt matted on one side and riotously curly on the other. Well, there was surely no one left awake to see. She dressed in dirty jeans and walked to the door. She paused.
She had heard a voice, hadn’t she?
She left her room before she could think about it too seriously. Obviously, she was having a hypoglycemic hallucination brought on by airline food and exacerbated by no sleep. She would be more rational after raiding the fridge and returning immediately to bed.
She made her way down the stairs, thanks to the night-light on the reception desk tucked back under the staircase. She walked across the entryway and began trying doors. Sitting room, library, parlor; she examined each in turn. They were wonderful, looking as if they’d been plucked from the past and set down in the present with tender care. She closed the door on the parlor and continued her search for sustenance.
It took only one more door before she found the dining room. She walked through it, with its tables already laid for breakfast, then pushed her way into the kitchen.
Megan sat in a chair, toasting her toes against an Aga stove. Three older gentlemen
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