“I want the whole summer,” he said abruptly.
Gina looked at him in astonishment. “The whole summer?”
“That is, if the place looks as great under close inspection as it does on first impression.”
She fingered her pen nervously. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, Mr. Colton, that our prices are…somewhat higher than normal accommodation rates in the area.”
“About a hundred and fifty dollars a day,” he agreed calmly. “My wife had a brochure about the place, and I hope it isn’t too far out-of-date. Are those .prices still accurate?”
Gina nodded. “There’s quite a lot of variation from room to room,” she said. “Some of the smaller rooms are less than a hundred a day, but the attic suite, for instance, is two-fifty.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because of its size and the amenities. There’s a wood-burning fireplace, a king-size sleigh bed on a platform fitted with steps, a large antique bathroom with a two-person whirlpool tub and a covered balcony overlooking the lake.”
“Sounds like a honeymoon suite,” he said.
“Often it is.”
“And is the attic suite occupied at the moment?” he asked.
“There’s a young couple from Minnesota staying there for the weekend. They’ll be gone on Tuesday.”
“Well, it sounds beautiful, but probably not exactly what I’m looking for. What about that room you were working in?”
“That’s the gold room,” Gina said. “It’s about midrange. It has leaded-glass casement windows, a gas fireplace and a small balcony. It’s a hundred and seventy.”
“And if I took it for two months? Would I have to pay—” he paused a moment to think “—ten thousand dollars?”
“Of course not. I could offer a substantially decreased rate for a long-term stay. And all our guests are treated to a wonderful three-course breakfast and an afternoon tea in the library.”
Colton leaned back in his chair. “Would the gold room be free for the entire summer?”
“I think I could make arrangements to have it available,” Gina said, keeping her face carefully expressionless. She could never recall having a room booked for sixty consecutive days to the same person. A stay at Edgewood Manor was usually an expensive luxury for her guests. It was a chance to escape from the real world, to be pampered by the staff for a few days and swathed in the sumptuous elegance of a bygone era.
Sometimes travelers from faraway places such as Australia or Japan stayed for a week or more if they had a particular interest in the Okanagan region. But a booking of two months was simply unheard-of. It would require some juggling on her part and moving of guests to other rooms. But she had nothing on file to indicate that anybody had specifically requested the gold room, so it should be all right…
While she was examining the reservation book, Colton startled her again.
“Before you get too involved in that,” he said, “I probably should mention that I’ll be needing another room, as well.”
“Two rooms? For the entire summer?” Gina looked up at him sharply.
He was sitting in relaxed fashion in the leather chair and had returned his gaze to the window. The afternoon sunlight etched his profile softly with gold.
Gina felt a rising annoyance.
This had to be some kind of scam. Maybe he was a journalist, planning to do a sensationalist article on inflated accommodation prices in resort areas, without the slightest concept of how much it cost to operate a huge old place like this.
“Look,” she began stiffly, “if you’re trying to make some kind of point, I’m not sure I understand what it is.”
He turned in surprise. “What do you mean?”
Gina’s anger faded to uncertainty once more. His gaze was so clear and honest, his face quietly appealing. “We don’t normally have such extended bookings,” she said at last. “A stay at Edgewood Manor is a weekend luxury for most people, Mr. Colton. It’s not the kind of place where people tend to book a room for two whole months. And,” she added, looking down at her reservation book to avoid his thoughtful gaze, “certainly not two rooms.”
Colton sat forward in his chair. His face suddenly looked tired and drawn. “I see. But it’s allowed? I mean, you’ll still rent me the rooms if I want them?”
“Why do you need two rooms?” Gina asked bluntly.
“My daughter will be spending the summer here, as well. She’s fourteen.”
Gina still felt nervous and uncertain. She couldn’t seem to read the man, couldn’t determine if he was utterly sincere or merely feeding her a line for some obscure reason of his own.
She decided to play along and see what happened. Maybe he really was on the level. And renting two rooms for the whole summer was certainly profitable for her…“All right.” She consulted the book again. “But there’ll be a problem, I’m afraid, if. you want your daughter in a room adjoining yours. On the second floor we only have the blue and gold rooms and the Edgewood master suite, which is quite expensive and also heavily booked.”
“Well, what about the blue room?”
Gina shook her head. “A number of couples have strong emotional attachments to the blue room. It’s already reserved for quite a few weekends this summer. If your daughter stayed there, she’d have to move out at regular intervals to a different room while the blue room was being used.”
Colton shook his head. “Oh, she wouldn’t care for that, I’m afraid. Like most teenagers, Steffi travels with a lot of stuff. It takes a small army to move it.”
Gina examined the reservation book again. “Let’s see. Fourteen years old…” she murmured thoughtfully. “Maybe she’d like the patio room. It’s on the main floor, with a French door opening onto the terrace. It’s readily accessible to the beach path, and it’s also one of the smaller, less expensive rooms. You can see the door to it over there, in fact.”
She gestured out the window toward the side wing of the mansion. There was a door at ground level across the leafy yard, with leaded-glass panels set into rails of antique brass that winked brightly in the sunlight.
Colton’s eyes sparkled with interest. “May I see the room?”
“Of course.” Gina got up and led the way out of her office, conscious again of him following close behind. “It’s quicker to go out through the back,” she said, opening a door into a wide hallway floored in oak and smelling deliciously of fresh bread.
“What a heavenly aroma,” he said, sniffing in pleasure.
“Mary’s baking this afternoon. She’s the cook and housekeeper. That’s the kitchen,” Gina added as they passed a big airy room full of glass-fronted cabinets. “Guests are welcome to drop in and visit while Mary’s working. And she’s always very generous about sharing her recipes.”
“I look forward to meeting her.”
Gina nodded. “I’ll introduce you on the way back. Hello, Roger,” she said as the caretaker passed them, carrying his freshly carved spindle and a can of wood stain.
Roger smiled at Gina and Alex Colton, his face creasing with warmth. “I have to match the wood stains,” he told them, brandishing the spindle. “It usually takes about seven attempts before I get it just right.”
“That’s Roger Appleby,” Gina told her visitor as the handyman vanished into the foyer. “He looks after things for me around the hotel.