Page 70 of The Haunted Hotel
At his words, that flush of pleasure decides to travel from my face down to my chest—suspiciously in the direction of my heart.
“I had to get up and help Aggie in the kitchen,” I reply with a chuckle. “Although helping Aggie in the kitchen is restricted to fetching and carrying whatever she tells me to. None of us are allowed to so much as toast a slice of bread.”
He looks over at the full English breakfast set out in the deserted dining room.
“Why do you go to all this trouble when there aren’t any guests?” There’s no censure in his voice, only curiosity.
“Well, there’s Mr Pennington, and you, and all the staff will pop in at some point and eat too. Either me or Rosie will make a plate and take it up to Mr Asht—” I shake my head and laugh. “I’m still getting used to calling him Cedric. Anyway, we could just send it up in the dumbwaiter, but we like to check in on him every morning. Even though he grumbles and says we’re annoying him, we make sure he has plenty of company through the day. He may refuse to leave his rooms, but it’s not good for him to be on his own too much.”
His hands gently cup my face. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Leaning in, he kisses me again, but this time there’s nothing chaste about it. He kisses me so thoroughly I feel it all the way to my toes, and when he straightens again, I sway into him. “Thank you for taking such good care of my grandad when I should have been.”
“Ah, no!” I shake a finger at him. “No self-recriminations before breakfast. The situation was what it was, so draw a line under it and move on. You’re here now and that’s what counts.”
“Ellis!”
I turn towards the door at the sound of my name. Rosie is hurrying in with a piece of paper clutched tightly in one hand, her face a mask of worry.
“Rosie, what’s wrong?” I ask in concern as, slightly out of breath, she stops in front of me and Morgan.
“I just got an email.” She thrusts the paper towards my face. “I printed it out for you to read.”
I reach up and take it from her hand, then read it quickly. My heart begins to pound, and my stomach sinks. I return to the beginning and read it again to confirm I didn’t misunderstand the message.
At my obvious distress, Morgan asks, “What? What is it?”
I can’t find the words to respond.
“It’s the bank,” Rosie says. “Apparently, they took us to court over all the outstanding debts, and since we didn’t show up, they’ve ordered a full valuation and audit of the house and its contents so it can be put up for auction.”
“What?” His eyes widen. “Why would you ignore a court summons?”
“We didn’t know,” I whisper.
“How can you not know? There should have been letters?—”
He cuts himself off with a curse and then, gripping the paper, stalks towards the door.
Rosie and I scramble to catch up with him, but he doesn’t stop until he’s on the fourth floor and hammering on his grandfather’s door.
“Hold your horses,” declares angry muttering from the other side of the door. “The house better be on bloody fire.”
The door opens and Cedric appears scowling at the three of us. Morgan holds up the piece of paper.
“Where are they?” he demands.
Cedric glares at him. “Where are what?”
“The letters, the court summons?” Morgan says coolly.
Cedric’s eyes narrow and he juts his jaw out stubbornly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now go away.” He turns and shuffles back into his room, but Morgan reaches out and catches the door before it slams closed, then strides into the room after him.
“Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy.”
Cedric turns to face him, his cheeks blotchy with anger. “Get out!”
“No,” Morgan snaps, and honestly, it’s like watching two very stubborn goats butt heads and bleat at each other. “Where. Are. They?”
Cedric’s lips purse shut, but his eyes betray him when they inadvertently flick to the bottom drawer of the sideboard.