Neatly stored on the shelves sat a cornucopia of canned goods, every spice known to man, and more varieties of rice, flour, and sugar than she'd thought possible.So. Point of information number one. Winthrop Carruthers liked to cook. Either that or he kept his housekeeper well supplied.Roseanne knew he had a housekeeper because she'd already had a run-in with the blustery Hispanic woman earlier that morning. It had been an awkward moment, waking up in a strange bed to find an outraged face staring down at her. Then the outraged woman had begun jabbering in Spanish. Roseanne had feared she was a goner. Somehow she'd managed to explain that she was a guest and not a burglar who'd decided to take a nap. But it had been a close call.Now, despite the suspicious surveillance of the housekeeper, Roseanne was making a thorough study of Winthrop's house. If she were going to play the man's fiancée she'd need to know something about him. That drive last night with Boyd could easily have been her undoing.
