Ford found it difficult to reply to the question. Not because he was exhausted, although he was. And not because indulging in various vices with Lila Vasquez was exactly how he’d like to start his day, either. No, it was because Lila was shrugging herself out of her wool coat and hanging it carefully on the coatrack by the door.

Against all reason and weather reports, which promised yet another snowstorm before nightfall, she seemed to be wearing a bright yellow sundress. It fit tightly across the bodice, suspended by two of the flimsiest straps he’d ever seen, and flared improbably wide at the skirt. It took him a few slow, careful blinks before he realized that there were some kind of ruffled petticoats puffing the dress up to reveal much more of Lila’s long, sleek legs than he ever thought to see in his lifetime. To top it all off, her hair was pulled back in yet another twist and coil of braids, this time offset with a crown of flowers woven into the strands.

“Um, did I miss the invitation to the local Renaissance fair?” Ford asked. “I wish you’d said something earlier. I have an elven sword I’m always looking for an excuse to roll out.”

Lila ignored him with her usual bland efficiency. “Is Emily still sleeping?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she smoothed her skirts and looked about the room, her eyes narrowed as she appraised its contents. “That’s good. It’ll give me a chance to set everything up.”

“Actually, she’s been up since about four o’clock this morning. She and Jeeves have been working out the intricacies of all the different rooster crows at Grandma Louise’s house.” That finally got Lila’s attention. She swiveled toward him, her lips slightly parted. “I’m not sure how accurate the training has been, but you’ll be pleased to know that the pair of them seem to have the volume part down just fine.”

“Oh, Ford.” Lila’s hands flew to her mouth, but not before her smoky laugh managed to escape. If he’d thought the power of that laugh while she was dressed in a boxy beige suit was bad, it was nothing compared to the effect it was having on him now. “Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

“Not really, no,” he admitted, but stopped himself from making the mistake of telling her that it was a low-voiced dog trainer who had been responsible for most of his restlessness. “But I used my time wisely, if that makes you feel better. I watched no fewer than twenty-seven YouTube videos on how to make the perfect princess braid. I’m thinking of opening a shop. Can I poke around in yours?”