Instead, he led her toward the heart of town, and finally to the Royal Western Hotel. The walk there wasn’t too long, but a sleepless night spent in a cold room without supper or breakfast had robbed Miranda of most of her strength.The building was a newly constructed spectacle of modern architecture: four stories high, with stone columns dominating the entryway. Inside, the paintings were bright and new; the cushions on the chairs seemed as if they’d never been used. A waft of some delicious, savory scent drifted through the foyer, and her empty stomach growled. But Smite didn’t conduct her into the salon for a meal. Alas. Instead, he motioned a footman over.Miranda ran her hand along the carved wainscoting while Smite murmured something to the fellow. The man bowed to him, then turned and spoke to another man, who turned and ducked through a door. A few minutes later, the fellow returned, this time followed by a man in gray-and-maroon livery.Neither man was carrying a tray of food, which was rather depressing.
