Ashes of Roses

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Ashes of Roses Page 10

by Melissa R. L. Simonin


  “That being the case, she’s also the only one getting through those mirrors, and into this room,” Miles declared.

  “Liz needs access,” I remembered. “To the room, I mean. She’s bringing back the rest of the ironing, when it’s done.”

  “Alright… then no one but Trix is getting through the mirrors, or past the bed curtains,” Miles replied.

  “Then I may be able to sleep, after all,” I shivered a little. “I don’t know what I’d do, without your superpowers to protect us. No, that’s not true. The truth is, I’d run.”

  “My, how you’ve changed,” Miles half-laughed. “I’d ask where the girl went who was too brave for her own good, but I much prefer you the way you are now.”

  “Good, because that girl isn’t coming back,” I replied, as I squeezed him tighter. “She retired when I realized no one can hurt you, or take you from me. But… why am I seeing things? I didn’t sense darkness, but… is there a murder I’m meant to solve? One from the past?”

  “I don’t know, but you’ve reminded me. Whatever we face, we can rest assured we’ll be equipped to carry out our part. So whatever that may be, we can relax. It’s not all up to us.”

  “That is comforting,” I agreed.

  So was standing there, hugging each other. I’d be inclined to stay that way, but the knock at the door was a reminder that our evening was only just begun. That two-hour nap was better than nothing, but it didn’t compare to a good night’s sleep. I hoped our before-dinner visit to the lounge would include coffee. Or better yet, unlimited lattes.

  As I collected my wrap, I gave the mirror a sideways glance. Miles draped the dresser scarf over it.

  “You’re welcome,” he smiled, and kissed my cheek, as I laughed.

  Miles offered me his arm, which I took, then we answered the door. Solemn Guy the second stood on the other side.

  “Good evening,” he said somberly. “Might I offer my assistance, in escorting you to the lounge.”

  “Thank you, we would appreciate that,” Miles replied.

  Solemn Guy the second gave a nod of acknowledgement. He turned, and we followed him down the corridor, to the landing.

  Outside the window above the entry’s double front doors, lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled faintly. Rain pattered softly, and somewhere in the distance, the measured gong of a clock sounded the three-quarter mark.

  As we descended the staircase, the cool air grew even cooler. I was thankful for my wrap and long sleeves. I was also thankful Liz sent Jack to work on our radiator! No matter how cold it might be elsewhere in the manor, we had a relatively warm room to look forward to.

  On our way to the ground floor, I studied the portraits that filled much of the wall space. Brown, blond, black, and hair streaked with gray. Eyes of blue, and brown. No hazel, which didn’t surprise me too much. Miles’ were the first hazel eyes in the House of Bannerman portrait gallery.While Delevan resembled their father, Miles more closely resembled their mother. It stood to reason, he inherited them from her side of the family.

  “See anyone familiar?” Miles asked quietly.

  “It’s hard to say for sure,” I considered. “But… I don’t think so.”

  Solemn Guy the second led us out of the empty entryway, through a parlor, into a drawing room, and down a broad corridor. At the opposite end, an arched doorway framed a huge fireplace, in which burned a number of larger than average logs. Solemn Guy the second continued until we reached the threshold, then stopped.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Bannerman,” he announced, then stood aside.

  We were met by the scent of wood smoke, and old books. On both sides of the fireplace, heavily carved and fully loaded shelves lined the walls all the way around the room. A spiral staircase on the left reached above the bookshelves, to a second level. Or maybe in this part of the world, it would be considered the first, and where we stood, the ground level. Whichever it was, carved wooden posts and a railing guarded the walkway that almost entirely encircled the room. Several closed doors shared the space with the portraits that adorned the papered walls.

  A massive chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, casting light on both the upper and lower levels. Fringed floor and table lamps provided additional illumination for the groups of chairs which, along with a generous supply of potted palms, made up the large room’s furnishings. Above the fireplace mantle hung an ornately framed mirror, and above that, more portraits. A rug of impressive dimension and intricate design filled a sizeable portion of the parquet floor.

  Other than the room’s contents and ourselves, it was empty.

  Miles led me to the fire, and I absorbed its warmth gratefully as I looked around us. Solemn Guy the second was no longer at the door.

  “Who do you suppose he announced us to?” I asked quietly.

  “The room at large, it would appear,” Miles said softly. “It’s safe to say our host was expected to arrive before we were.”

  I studied the portraits above the mantle, and what I could see of those on the upper level.

  “Anything?” Miles asked.

  “It’s hard to be sure, but I don’t think so,” I answered. “Do you see anyone familiar? They’re your family, after all.”

  “I see a resemblance to my father and Delevan, in some,” Miles replied. “Cynthia, too.”

  I nodded. While deep-set eyes and a cleft-chin were features his father and brother had in common, all three had dark hair. Several of those whose likenesses were captured on canvas shared one or more of those traits.

  “This seems more like a library, than a lounge,” I remarked. “Although I suppose one could lounge, while reading.”

  “It’s larger than Mission Control,” Miles commented, “although I believe our library contains more books. It may be that the manor has another room designated as such.”

  As tempting as it was to examine the contents of the room—and its second level!—that would likely be considered rude, or unrefined on the part of our host. Standards were clearly different at Bannerman Manor, than they were at home. We would never leave guests waiting, for one thing! But, maybe they were tardy for good reason, rather than in an attempt to claim an elevated status, and put the American cousins in their place. We’d surely find out, soon enough.

  We satisfied ourselves with glancing around some more, as we moved to the nearest seat big enough for two. Fortunately for me, it wasn’t out of reach of the fire’s warmth. We settled in, and prepared to wait.

  “Barring any previous plans on the part of the Carlisles, is there anything in particular you’d care to do, tomorrow?” Miles asked.

  “Sleep in,” I promptly replied, and Miles laughed quietly. To do more than that, would surely result in one of the portraits coming to life to shush us. The disapproving older woman peering down at us from her gold frame, looked as though she was itching to get after us, regardless.

  “If I see her looking back at me in the mirror, I’m out of here,” I said softly.

  “Agreed,” Miles said, with a shudder that left me stifling a laugh, myself.

  “I’d like to go on the house tour tomorrow afternoon, and visit the gardens,” I said. “I’d especially love to see the roses.”

  “Then we’ll find time and do that,” Miles replied.

  Footsteps echoed along the corridor outside the lounge, as they steadily—and rather solemnly—drew closer. We looked up to see Solemn Guy the first heading in our direction. We watched as he entered the room, crossed the floor, and came to a stop beside us. He bowed slightly, before speaking.

  “Sir Edmund sends his regrets,” he began. “Having been unavoidably detained, he will expect to see you at dinner.”

  “Very well,” Miles acknowledged. “Will Miss Fairgrave be joining us, or has she also been detained?”

  “Sir Edmund did not say, sir,” Solemn Guy the first answered seriously. He looked slightly concerned. “Would you care for a drink, of some kind?”

  Light footsteps sounded over
head, and we looked up to see a young woman on the level above. I recognized Ashley Fairgrave from the photos on the manor’s website. Her blue-gray eyes were bright with welcome and curiosity as she reached the stairs, and rapidly descended. Her ash-blond hair was pinned up, as was my own, so whether it was still cut in a chin length bob, was impossible to determine. While I had my wrap to combat the chill, Ashley wore a bolero jacket embellished with seed pearls. Her gown of deep blue matched mine in length, which was just as well. If it was any longer, she’d be hard pressed to navigate the steps so rapidly. Although, a longer skirt might necessitate skipping the steps altogether, resulting in a very rapid descent, indeed! Instead, she and her skirt of reasonable length safely reached the floor. Miles and I rose, as she joined us.

  “Coffee will do nicely, I think, and two sweet cream lattes for Mrs. Bannerman, and myself,” she said, looking to me and Miles for confirmation.

  “That will do very nicely,” I replied, and she smiled, then addressed Solemn Guy the first.

  “Thank you, Jeffrey,” Ashley Fairgrave said graciously. “That will be all.”

  “Very good, Miss Fairgrave,” Solemn Guy the first nodded, and then promptly departed. She turned back to us.

  “It’s so very wonderful to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Bannerman,” she enthused, as we both accepted her offer of a handshake.

  “We’re glad to meet you too, Miss Fairgrave,” Miles smiled.

  “Please, do be seated,” she said, motioning toward the small couch we so recently vacated. We reclaimed our seats, and she chose the nearest chair. “I’m terribly sorry I’m late, I must admit I’ve been quite riveted this evening, getting a bit more acquainted with you. I do hope you don’t mind, once I began reading, I became quite fascinated. Your life, really, has been terribly exciting.”

  “A lot of the excitement reported has been pretty terrible,” I felt obligated to point out, lest Ashley turn out to be overly enamored by that, as Xander’s cousin, Cheryl, once was.

  “Oh yes,” Ashley’s eyes shadowed in acknowledgement. “The family mystery, however, and all that your Foundation accomplishes, that is most exciting of all.”

  I knew I liked this girl.

  “You’re right, and I’m glad you think so,” I replied.

  “How amazing that must have been for you, to wake and discover all that was accomplished while you slept,” Ashley addressed Miles.

  “It was life changing,” Miles replied. “For both of us.”

  “That’s the truth,” I declared, as we shared a smile, and squeezed each other’s hands.

  Ashley looked satisfied, I guess is the right word. Kind of like when getting to the happy beginning of a romance novel.

  “How wonderful,” she said. “But… in the History Detectives interview, you seemed a bit sad.”

  “You’re very perceptive,” I replied. “The truth is, I was. After solving the mystery, I lost my primary reason for being there. I became very lonely. When Miles came back to the estate, all that changed.”

  He squeezed my hand, then wrapped his arm around my shoulders, for good measure.

  “How wonderful,” she said again, and her eyes were almost starry. “I can only imagine what that would be like, and I must say, I don’t care for it. I’ve always had Edmund, or very nearly. I can’t imagine life without him.”

  That was the truth.

  “That’s great,” I said. “That you’ve been together for so long, I mean. So you knew each other before you became house manager, and were put in charge of public relations?”

  I knew they had, after what Marge said—was that just earlier today? It felt much longer ago! I was definitely feeling the jet lag.

  “We went to public school together, after my grandmum and I moved to Camden,” Ashley answered. She sounded kind of humble, and grateful, too. “That was on account of the sacrifices she made. We could never afford it, otherwise.”

  Either public school meant something very different to Ashley than it did me, or… I could think of no other reason why that would make sense.

  “That’s great,” I said again. It seemed appropriate. “It’s great you and your grandmother had each other.”

  “Yes,” Ashley said, and her blue-gray eyes clouded slightly. “It’s every day I’m thankful for the time I had with her.”

  “I’m sure,” I said sympathetically. “We should all be so fortunate. It was actually Miles’ grandmother who hired me to be caretaker for the House of Bannerman.”

  “How lovely,” Ashley said with interest. “I did wonder.”

  “Grandma Polly knew what an asset Anika would be to the estate, and to me, within an hour of meeting her,” Miles added. “She offered her the job, on the spot.”

  “And I, accepted,” I said with a smile. “I was sure Miles Bannerman was innocent, and just as certain there was proof. I was thrilled to have the opportunity to search for it. Seeing the estate come to life after years of neglect, was also amazing.”

  “How wonderful,” Ashley declared. “And you say your grandmother knew what an asset your wife would be to you, as well.”

  It was a question, as much as it was a statement, and there were so many ways to answer.

  “You phrased that exactly right,” Miles replied. “Grandma Polly knew what an asset Anika would be to me, as my wife. From the moment I awoke, she sang Anika’s praises, which are many. She needn’t have concerned herself, I was very anxious to make Anika’s acquaintance. When we finally met, I can’t express how thankful I was to find that she felt the same way about me.”

  “I certainly did,” I said firmly. “I didn’t need Grandma Polly bulldozing me in that direction, either. But it really was very sweet in a way, and humbling that she felt I was good enough for her grandson.”

  “Grandma Polly loves me,” Miles replied. “And so, she wanted what she knew would best complement me, and bring me the greatest happiness.”

  “How wonderful that you and your grandmum felt the same way,” Ashley said, as she looked back at Miles curiously. “But… what if you did not?”

  “I fear I would be in the hospital even now, as it would be a clear sign of brain injury,” Miles said, and we girls both laughed. “I’m quite serious, the doctors couldn’t explain my miraculous recovery, and kept me much longer than necessary. That would’ve been all the excuse they needed, not to let me go at all.”

  “You’re very sweet,” I declared, as I kissed his cheek.

  “I’m also telling the truth,” Miles reminded me, because he was!

  “Then I’m even more glad you were on board with Grandma Polly’s plan,” I replied.

  The measured tread of Solemn Guy the first sounded from out in the corridor, temporarily bringing conversation to a halt. Moments later, he followed a wheeled cart into the room. It contained three mugs, two of them topped with foam, along with a pitcher of cream, a small bowl of sugar, and a tray of small cakes.

  “Thank you, Jeffrey,” Ashley said, as the cart came to a stop beside us.

  “Will there be anything else, Miss Fairgrave?” he asked politely.

  “This will do,” Ashley replied. With a nod of acknowledgement, he departed.

  The next several minutes were spent in settling in with our chosen drinks, and sampling the delicacies on the tray.

  “How about you?” I finally asked. “How did you begin working here?”

  “It was love at first sight when I visited the gardens with my grandmum as a girl,” Ashley replied, her blue-gray eyes brightening at the memory. “Meaning the manor, of course. Then I met Edmund, and we fast became friends. My love for the manor only grew with the photos he showed me. There was a great deal of untapped potential, but of course I daren’t suggest it, then. I took business and marketing courses at university, and learnt all I could of restoration. Much to my advantage, I managed a job at the museum, part-time, of course. I learnt a great deal there. Shortly after graduation, the manor’s caretaker retired. I applied for the job, and decided I’d b
est go all-in. I was young compared to the others, Edmund told me, so I presented my ideas to Lady Carlisle during the interview. She was pleased, I’m glad to say, and I became house manager, and was given charge of publicity as well.”

  “You’re doing a wonderful job, from all we’ve seen and heard,” I said. “After knowing you for so long, Lady Carlisle must have felt doubly confident putting the care of the manor in your hands.”

  “Well, I… what I mean to say is, Lady Carlisle and I met for the first time, during the interview,” Ashley replied.

  “Oh,” I said in surprise. “I assumed, because of you and Edmund.”

  “Yes, I suppose that does seem a bit odd,” she acknowledged. “The opportunity never came up, I suppose. Then I felt it important to acquire the job on my own, rather than to have Edmund put in a word.”

  “And you did,” I said, but now I really wondered if Lady Carlisle was aware of her son’s relationship with Ashley. “Do you see Lady Carlisle much, now that you work here?”

  “A fair bit, actually,” Ashley answered. “More often than not, Edmund and I work together. He’s looking very forward to meeting you, as is Lady Carlisle. They were terribly intrigued to discover the relation. It’s really quite something, to have a Bannerman in the manor, once more.”

  “I look forward to meeting them as well,” Miles replied. “If I was ever aware of this branch of the family, I don’t recall it.”

  “The connection must have been lost on both sides, long ago,” I said.

  “Indeed, it must have,” Ashley agreed. “The lumber rooms are filled not only with furnishings, but correspondence, as well. I expect a connection could be found there, though the finding would take some time, I’m afraid.”

  “If the manor’s lumber rooms are anything like the storage rooms at the estate, I can understand why,” I remarked. “Our own inventory is currently underway, and has been, for months.”

  “All correspondence is being filed chronologically,” Miles said. “It may take several years, but I’m confident that references to this branch, and perhaps others, will be discovered there.”

 

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