Addison arched an eyebrow, hesitating before she spoke again. “No, Mr. Sheppard, this is...this is my house.”

“Your house?” he said, tilting his head to the side. “But I thought...I thought...then what am I doing here? Why is my daughter here? This doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any sense!”

Addison could be as ruthless and shrewd as any businesswoman, but when it came to lying she had always drawn the line; however, sensing Robert’s fear was getting the better of him, Addison decided honesty, perhaps, wasn’t the best policy. The truth could make matters worse, and since the man was obviously confused and scared, Addison decided to err on the side of caution.

“Mr. Sheppard, you do live here. Your daughter...your daughter works for me, and as part of her stipend, I agreed to...to allow you and her to live in the east wing.”

“Joanna works for you?”

“Yes. She’s...she’s my house manager.”

“House manager?”

“That’s right. She keeps the place in order while I’m at work.”

Robert looked around the massive entrance hall and then at the grand staircase behind him. Straightening his posture, he said, “Sounds like a very important job.”

“Yes sir, it is,” Addison said as tiny lines formed at the corners of her eyes.

“I wish...I wish I could remember,” Robert said, scratching his head.

“Well, it’s late. You’re probably just tired. Where’s your nurse? I’ll have her take you back to your room so you can get some sleep.”

“She’s sawing logs.”

Addison flinched back her head. “Sorry?”

“That’s what woke me up. She’s sawing logs.”

“I see,” Addison said, her eyes turning cold as she looked toward the upper floor. “Wait,” she blurted as her focus jumped from the steps to the man and back again. “If she’s asleep, how did you get down here? I didn’t hear the lift.”

“There’s a...there’s a lift?”

“Yes, but if you didn’t take it, how the hell did you get down here?”

“Came down on my arse,” Robert said, motioning with his head to the stairs behind him.

“You fell!” Addison said, jumping to her feet.

Robert screwed up his face as he looked at Addison. “Bloody hell, woman. Are you daft? I’m a twig. I’d have ended up as kindling.”

“But you just said—”

“I said I came down on my arse,” Robert said, and quickly demonstrating, he scooted his bottom from one step to the next. Landing with a faint thump, he grimaced. “But don’t have as much meat back there as I used to.”

Letting out the breath she’d been holding, Addison said, “You about gave me a heart attack.”

“Better than a stroke,” Robert mumbled, reaching for his cane.