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Authors: Carlene Rae Dater
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arrive.”
Chapter Thirteen
Nervous energy skittered through Robin. She hadn’t been this excited since….well, ever. The limo sped out of the airport and into a long, dark tunnel. Soon they were out of the city and headed west. She couldn’t believe how lush and green everything was. There were trees, grass, and flowers everywhere. Born and raised in Southern California, she had never seen anything like this except on television or in the movies. She would love to have seen something of Boston and all its history. She hoped they’d have time for that later.
A bubble of uncertainty flittered through her. She wasn’t really sure what her role would be once Brian had control of his thoughts, other than to be his bed warmer. Well, it would be enough for now.
Once they hit the turnpike, there wasn’t much to see, so she settled back in her seat and opened the paperback book she’d brought to read on the plane.
The time passed quickly, and soon she felt the big car slow. She looked out the window and saw they were driving through a thick, emerald forest.
“You don’t see anything like this in southern California, do you?”
She turned her head and grinned at Brian. “Nope. I can’t imagine how glorious it must be in the fall when all the leave change colors.”
She put her book away, pulled out her compact, and checked her makeup. She touched a powder puff to her shiny nose and re-applied her lipstick.
Suddenly, light infused the backseat. The big car had come out of the tunnel of trees and there, sitting perched on a hill, was a house. She gasped. No, not a house. It was a Tudor-style mansion. All gray stone and large windows. There were at least three chimneys, and even a round turret at one end. The sun had begun to set behind the house, casting long shadows.
The whole place might have looked a bit sinister if not for the profusion of flowers of all colors filling beds along the front of the house. In the middle of the cobblestone turnaround stood a fountain featuring a naked woman holding a jar with water pouring out into the small pond at her feet. As they drove by and came to a stop, Robin spotted several brightly colored koi in the pond. She wanted to clap her hands in delight.
Hunter glided the limo to a stop right in front of the five stone steps that led up to a weathered oak door. By the time Brian had exited the car and helped her out, the front door opened and a man dressed in a dark gray suit stood waiting for them. He looked like every English butler she’d ever seen in the movies, from the fringe of gray hair ringing his bald pate, right down to his gray gloves.
Her heart galloped in her chest, and she stifled a giggled. He was the grayest man she’d seen in her entire life.
“Mr. Wakefield, Ms. Guyer. Welcome to the institute. Hunter will take your bags to your rooms. My name is Wells. Phelps is waiting for you in the library, if you’ll follow me.”
She wanted to take Brian’s arm to keep from falling over as the two of them walked down the dark, marbled hallway, but she knew it would disturb him. Portraits of both men and women lined the walls, most of them from centuries past. The butler, Wells, reached the end and opened another door composed of dark wood.
A cheery fire burned brightly from the vast fireplace that took up almost an entire wall, but it emitted little heat in the spacious room. The other three walls were lined with shelves filled with what looked like thousands and thousands of books. An avid reader, Robin longed to run her fingers down the spines and pull out a few volumes.
A man stood motionless in the middle of the room. “Mr. Wakefield.” He dipped his head in a slight, modified bow. “So nice to see you again. Ms. Guyer, welcome to the institute. I am Phelps.”
The man looked just the way Brian had described him: black suit, bald head, intense dark eyes, right down to the big red stone, surely a ruby, in his
Chapter Thirteen
Nervous energy skittered through Robin. She hadn’t been this excited since….well, ever. The limo sped out of the airport and into a long, dark tunnel. Soon they were out of the city and headed west. She couldn’t believe how lush and green everything was. There were trees, grass, and flowers everywhere. Born and raised in Southern California, she had never seen anything like this except on television or in the movies. She would love to have seen something of Boston and all its history. She hoped they’d have time for that later.
A bubble of uncertainty flittered through her. She wasn’t really sure what her role would be once Brian had control of his thoughts, other than to be his bed warmer. Well, it would be enough for now.
Once they hit the turnpike, there wasn’t much to see, so she settled back in her seat and opened the paperback book she’d brought to read on the plane.
The time passed quickly, and soon she felt the big car slow. She looked out the window and saw they were driving through a thick, emerald forest.
“You don’t see anything like this in southern California, do you?”
She turned her head and grinned at Brian. “Nope. I can’t imagine how glorious it must be in the fall when all the leave change colors.”
She put her book away, pulled out her compact, and checked her makeup. She touched a powder puff to her shiny nose and re-applied her lipstick.
Suddenly, light infused the backseat. The big car had come out of the tunnel of trees and there, sitting perched on a hill, was a house. She gasped. No, not a house. It was a Tudor-style mansion. All gray stone and large windows. There were at least three chimneys, and even a round turret at one end. The sun had begun to set behind the house, casting long shadows.
The whole place might have looked a bit sinister if not for the profusion of flowers of all colors filling beds along the front of the house. In the middle of the cobblestone turnaround stood a fountain featuring a naked woman holding a jar with water pouring out into the small pond at her feet. As they drove by and came to a stop, Robin spotted several brightly colored koi in the pond. She wanted to clap her hands in delight.
Hunter glided the limo to a stop right in front of the five stone steps that led up to a weathered oak door. By the time Brian had exited the car and helped her out, the front door opened and a man dressed in a dark gray suit stood waiting for them. He looked like every English butler she’d ever seen in the movies, from the fringe of gray hair ringing his bald pate, right down to his gray gloves.
Her heart galloped in her chest, and she stifled a giggled. He was the grayest man she’d seen in her entire life.
“Mr. Wakefield, Ms. Guyer. Welcome to the institute. Hunter will take your bags to your rooms. My name is Wells. Phelps is waiting for you in the library, if you’ll follow me.”
She wanted to take Brian’s arm to keep from falling over as the two of them walked down the dark, marbled hallway, but she knew it would disturb him. Portraits of both men and women lined the walls, most of them from centuries past. The butler, Wells, reached the end and opened another door composed of dark wood.
A cheery fire burned brightly from the vast fireplace that took up almost an entire wall, but it emitted little heat in the spacious room. The other three walls were lined with shelves filled with what looked like thousands and thousands of books. An avid reader, Robin longed to run her fingers down the spines and pull out a few volumes.
A man stood motionless in the middle of the room. “Mr. Wakefield.” He dipped his head in a slight, modified bow. “So nice to see you again. Ms. Guyer, welcome to the institute. I am Phelps.”
The man looked just the way Brian had described him: black suit, bald head, intense dark eyes, right down to the big red stone, surely a ruby, in his
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