Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“You’re my sisters. You’re supposed to say nice things to me,” Prudence replied.
“Not true,” I stated. “A real sister, blood or otherwise, will lay it out for you. What she won’t do is say something that would make you feel you have to hide your light under a bushel. What you wear might not be their tastes, but does that mean, since what they’re wearing isn’t yours, you don’t like what they’re wearing?”
“They always look lovely,” Prudence asserted.
“And I’m sure, so do you,” I returned. “At least, that’s what I’ve noticed about you.”
“Thanks, Vivi,” Prudence said shyly.
Glances were being exchanged, so I chanced one at Battle to see he wasn’t participating in this.
He seemed deep in the study of what appeared to be a G&T.
He only looked up when Chastity unusually took the reins of the conversation, and her whisper was slightly louder when she lifted what appeared to be a daiquiri and announced, “I think now we should toast our guest and officially welcome her to our home.”
“Hear, hear!” Prudence exclaimed, lifting what appeared to be an old fashioned.
Temperance just tilted her glass to me.
Battle did the same, but then he took his sip with his eyes aimed over the rim right at me, a move that was seriously damned sexy, and he knew it.
Instead of throwing my drink at him, I said to the room, “Thank you. I’m really looking forward to my visit with all of you.”
“And we are going to have so much fun,” Prudence decreed.
Well, she and I probably were.
The rest…we’d see.
Everyone sipped.
“Battie, before you and Vivienne made your dramatic appearance,” Temperance changed the subject in a manner I was coming to realize she was wont to utilize, “Prudence was discussing the attics with us.”
“Mm?” Battle hummed, a sound that was like a physical touch to me, and seriously…
Why couldn’t the man have sat across the coffee table, damn it?
“She thinks, while Vivienne is here, we might want to tackle that project,” Temperance went on. “And by ‘we,’ I wish it to be clear, I do not mean me.”
I was about to get fidgety, because if the attics were a mess and I was helping change that status, I wouldn’t be able to have my nose in Talyn family papers.
“Not to be presumptuous or anything,” Prudence said quickly to me. “Just that, you know a lot about history. Even fabrics, fixtures and furnishings. You describe them so perfectly in your books.” She turned her attention to Battle. “I’m sure there are many things of worth up there that we’ll never use. But, sitting up there, collecting dust, it’s not doing anyone any good.” She came back to me. “So I thought you could have a glance at it, not go through it or tidy it or anything. That’ll be my job. But just to confirm I’m right.”
“And if you’re right?” I asked.
“Then you can help me figure out what’s next,” she answered. “An auctioneer or a curator of a museum or something.”
“That is, if you’ll let us sell it, Battie,” Chastity whisper-added.
“I’d put the lot on the curb for anyone driving by to take what they wanted if it was my choice,” Battle said into his glass before taking a drink.
“Oh no, Battie!” Prudence chirped. “Not if we can make money for our charities, or for The Fund, or donate pieces a museum might want.”
Battle turned to his sister and said in a loving tone I’d not heard before, and was uncertain whether I wished I still hadn’t, or wanted to hear it for a lifetime.
“In other words, sweetheart, whatever you want to do, do it.”
Prudence clapped again as she jumped in her seat. “Thanks, Battie.”
“Just to reiterate, I will, of course,” Temperance began while flourishing a nearly empty martini glass that had three fat olives on a silver pick rolling around in it, “be nowhere near this escapade involving junk, dust mites, and more than likely, mice.”
“We can’t live in a house with cats and have mice, Tempie,” Chastity whisper-contradicted.
Temperance graced her youngest sister with a sly smile. “I’m not taking chances, dear.”
Prudence and Chastity’s attention went to the door at this point, so we all looked that way to see Fitzgibbons standing in it.
“Cook says dinner is ready when you are,” he announced.
“Drink up, I’m famished,” Temperance ordered as she sucked back the tail end of her martini and put the glass on the coffee table.
“You can take yours with,” Prudence told me.
“Thanks,” I replied, rising from my seat.
I made note of where Bartholomew was and scanned for any errant felines before I turned and witnessed, what seemed crazily, the three Talyn sisters rushing to the door.
Of course, Temperance did it while sashaying, but she was still rushing.
Boy, they must be hungry.
Then again, I was the only one who went for seconds on the scones.