and walked over to open it.
Terri's eyebrows lifted at the sight before her. She'd thought her room large and gorgeous? This bedroom had to be the master suite. There was a huge king-size bed, antique by her guess, with four corner posts, an overhead awning, and heavy dark drapes that could be pulled closed around it. All the other furniture looked antique too, drawers, armoires, table and chairs, sofa and stuffed chairs. The room was bigger than her entire cottage back in Huddersfield, England.
After hesitating on the threshold, Terri braved entering, feeling like a thief. It was possible that this was Marguerite Argeneau's room. After all, Vincent had said it was actually Bastien's mother's apartment. If it was her room, then it was unoccupied at the moment, which would ease some of Terri's guilt about allowing her curiosity such free rein.
There were three doors leading off the master bedroom. Curious to know where they went, Terri moved to the first and opened it. The hallway. She closed it quickly and moved to the next door, which revealed a huge walk-in closet. Every stitch of clothing inside was male. There were suits mostly, with a couple of more casual clothes to break up the monotony. Chinos, cords, casual tops and sweaters. There were no jeans though, she noticed.
It was Bastien's room, then. Terri started to pull the closet door closed, only to pause as her gaze landed on a tall metal stand in the far back corner.
Terri's deceased husband, Ian, had spent a lot of time in the hospital during the battle against Hodgkin's disease that eventually claimed him. But he'd also spent a lot of time at home. At first, Terri had thought it important to keep him home to keep his spirits high and help him fight the illness. Once she'd finally gotten through the denial phase, and accepted that he wouldn't survive, she'd been determined to make his life as happy, normal and comfortable as possible. He'd died at home, with herself, his brother Dave and Dave's wife, Sandi, in attendance. Terri was very familiar with medical paraphernalia thanks to that period of her life. She recognized an IV stand when she saw one. And there was no reason on earth that she could think of for Bastien to have one here.
Then she recalled that this was really his mother's room, and that his father was dead. Kate had never said how the senior Argeneau had passed on. Now Terri suspected it may have been in a manner similar to her own mother's death, and Ian's, which had been slow, lingering, and painful. It was an unpleasant thing to think about, and none of Terri's business—until and unless Bastien told her. But then, this room wasn't any of her business either. She was being snoopy.
Terri pulled the door closed and hesitated, torn between stopping and leaving or continuing her snooping. The fact that there was only one door left to look behind decided it: She'd gone this far, she might as well just peek through the last door before going back to her own room.
A gasp of amazement slid from her lips as she did. Beyond lay a bathroom bigger even than the bedroom she'd been given. "Luxurious" did not describe it; even "opulent" was a poor description. Toilet, bidet, sinks, shower, and Jacuzzi—all were done in white, with gold accessories. And the gold looked real to Terri. The floor was a rich black marble with gold and white shot through, and mirrors were everywhere. The room was positively decadent. And it raised possibilities in her mind that were even more wicked.
Terri pulled the door closed and made a beeline back into her own bathroom. It was only once she had that door safely closed behind her that she wondered why, since the master suite had its own bathroom, there was a connecting door to hers. It didn't bother her that the rooms were connected; she wasn't going to lock the door or anything. Her cousin would hardly leave her where she wasn't safe. She was just curious as to the reason for the connecting door.
Shrugging the question
Terri's eyebrows lifted at the sight before her. She'd thought her room large and gorgeous? This bedroom had to be the master suite. There was a huge king-size bed, antique by her guess, with four corner posts, an overhead awning, and heavy dark drapes that could be pulled closed around it. All the other furniture looked antique too, drawers, armoires, table and chairs, sofa and stuffed chairs. The room was bigger than her entire cottage back in Huddersfield, England.
After hesitating on the threshold, Terri braved entering, feeling like a thief. It was possible that this was Marguerite Argeneau's room. After all, Vincent had said it was actually Bastien's mother's apartment. If it was her room, then it was unoccupied at the moment, which would ease some of Terri's guilt about allowing her curiosity such free rein.
There were three doors leading off the master bedroom. Curious to know where they went, Terri moved to the first and opened it. The hallway. She closed it quickly and moved to the next door, which revealed a huge walk-in closet. Every stitch of clothing inside was male. There were suits mostly, with a couple of more casual clothes to break up the monotony. Chinos, cords, casual tops and sweaters. There were no jeans though, she noticed.
It was Bastien's room, then. Terri started to pull the closet door closed, only to pause as her gaze landed on a tall metal stand in the far back corner.
Terri's deceased husband, Ian, had spent a lot of time in the hospital during the battle against Hodgkin's disease that eventually claimed him. But he'd also spent a lot of time at home. At first, Terri had thought it important to keep him home to keep his spirits high and help him fight the illness. Once she'd finally gotten through the denial phase, and accepted that he wouldn't survive, she'd been determined to make his life as happy, normal and comfortable as possible. He'd died at home, with herself, his brother Dave and Dave's wife, Sandi, in attendance. Terri was very familiar with medical paraphernalia thanks to that period of her life. She recognized an IV stand when she saw one. And there was no reason on earth that she could think of for Bastien to have one here.
Then she recalled that this was really his mother's room, and that his father was dead. Kate had never said how the senior Argeneau had passed on. Now Terri suspected it may have been in a manner similar to her own mother's death, and Ian's, which had been slow, lingering, and painful. It was an unpleasant thing to think about, and none of Terri's business—until and unless Bastien told her. But then, this room wasn't any of her business either. She was being snoopy.
Terri pulled the door closed and hesitated, torn between stopping and leaving or continuing her snooping. The fact that there was only one door left to look behind decided it: She'd gone this far, she might as well just peek through the last door before going back to her own room.
A gasp of amazement slid from her lips as she did. Beyond lay a bathroom bigger even than the bedroom she'd been given. "Luxurious" did not describe it; even "opulent" was a poor description. Toilet, bidet, sinks, shower, and Jacuzzi—all were done in white, with gold accessories. And the gold looked real to Terri. The floor was a rich black marble with gold and white shot through, and mirrors were everywhere. The room was positively decadent. And it raised possibilities in her mind that were even more wicked.
Terri pulled the door closed and made a beeline back into her own bathroom. It was only once she had that door safely closed behind her that she wondered why, since the master suite had its own bathroom, there was a connecting door to hers. It didn't bother her that the rooms were connected; she wasn't going to lock the door or anything. Her cousin would hardly leave her where she wasn't safe. She was just curious as to the reason for the connecting door.
Shrugging the question
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