As my Master unloads suitcases, I race around the house, exploring. Everything is beautiful. Everything is…
Perfect…
Upstairs, a suitcase in either hand, he nods me to a door. “I assume you’ll want to sleep in the Master bedroom.” Something in his tone makes me double-take to his expression. Mischief lurks behind a bland expression. Following his gaze, I open the door for him and step inside.
It’s a gorgeous room, not that I expect anything less now. Thick carpets. Walls in eggshell cream. Matching wardrobes, dressing table and drawers, all in beautiful french-polished timber.
A basket chair hangs from the ceiling, overlooking the panorama outside. I pause in mid-step, eyeing the ceiling hook speculatively before being drawn back to the main feature…
A four-poster bed…
And it's huge.
Heavy dark-wood posts, carved and whorled, support sturdy cross-posts. Curtains in a rich brocade swing from heavy-duty brass rings… Rings far in excess of what is needed to hang curtains.