Miles laughed as he closed the stairwell door behind us.
“It would ensure it, so… onward, then.”
Chapter 13
“The rooms are numbered,” I noticed, as we followed the corridor toward the main staircase.
“So they are,” Miles acknowledged. “That being the case, and this being the first floor of the east wing, finding our originally intended room should be easy enough.”
“There,” I indicated a door on the right. “Number twenty-seven.”
We were alone in the hallway, and if the room wasn’t fit for us to inhabit, it wasn’t likely to be inhabited by anyone else, so… I turned the knob.
The latch caught. I started to let go, when with a click, it released. Either someone was on the other side, or… I glanced at Miles. He smiled, then pushed the door open and held it, as he activated the flashlight app on his cellphone. I tucked my hand in his arm, and followed him in.
The contents of the room, combined with the beam of light, cast bizarre shadows as he slowly panned it about the large, elegantly appointed space.
“There’s the pull cord,” I pointed out, and with a click… nothing happened. There was another click.
“Either the bulb’s out, or the power is,” Miles remarked, then aimed the light from his phone at the open doorway on the other side of the room. “If a private bath was installed as planned, it’s through there. Who was right, by the way? The staff, when they said the renovation was incomplete; Marge, when she said the construction was poorly done, resulting in damage to the property; or both?”
“No one was lying, but no one had direct, observational knowledge, either. It was all hearsay,” I replied.
“I suppose that makes sense on Marge’s part, since it’s unlikely she moonlights as a housemaid,” Miles reasoned.
“I guess,” I considered. “What doesn’t make sense, is how she hears all the things she does!”
Miles laughed.
“Either she listens on occasion, or it’s through osmosis. Whatever the case, I’m inclined to believe her. I’m amazed at how much she knows about our stay, thus far.”
“No kidding,” I recalled. “She even knew I was on the phone with my sister, when I found the guy in the room next door. Do you suppose you would’ve had your own room, if we weren’t reassigned?”
“Only if it’s also through this door, because there’s only the one,” Miles replied. He led the way there, and shone the light inside.
“Oh. Wow,” I said, as I looked around at the spacious bathroom. “I like the room we’re in, especially knowing James and Katherine once stayed there, but this—it’s on par with the estate. Except for the double faucets.”
“My guess is that this was once the room meant for the husband, which explains where the space came from,” Miles noted.
“Well this is a much better use of it,” I declared. “I don’t see anything wrong or unfinished, though. Do you?”
“No… and the housemaids didn’t seem to, either. Delacroix’s former room may be another matter,” Miles replied.
“If we have to go through every room to find it, we could be here all afternoon,” I pointed out.
“Instead, let’s see if we can find a copy of the original room assignment schedule,” Miles proposed.
“Yes!” I exclaimed. “I’d really like the chance to talk to Ashley, so let’s go find her. I’m sure she knows where to locate it, if she doesn’t have one herself. What reason do we give, for asking?”
“We know it was Gerald Abernathy’s body we found in the garden this morning, and that he owned Historic Restoration. Perhaps Ashley knows if he was in charge of the east wing renovation. If he was, or wasn’t, I’d like to know what led to him storming out of the manor on Tuesday afternoon.”
“If he wasn’t, maybe he was turned down in his offer to take over, but you’re right,” I agreed. “Ashley may be able to tell us.”
“Either way, we’d like to have a look at the room that precipitated the switch from east wing, to west,” Miles said. “If it’s the result of the work being incomplete, that’s one thing. If it’s a matter of negligence, that’s entirely another. There are a lot of ifs, but right now it’s reasonable to suspect a link.”
“So of course, we need to see the room that started it all,” I concluded. “Either that, or talk to Lady Carlisle, and I’m doubtful she’d be forthcoming.”
“It’s unlikely she’s available for questioning,” Miles pointed out. “She’s quite probably absorbed in her role as hostess.”
“I’m kind of glad to know neither Lady Carlisle, nor Sir Edmund, intended to invite us here only to forget all about us,” I commented, as we walked back through the room, and cautiously let ourselves into the hall.
“So am I,” Miles admitted. “Lady Carlisle wasn’t expecting two of their guests to arrive ahead of schedule, or that an entire wing’s worth of room assignments would have to be changed, and those rooms prepared for habitation.”
“Can you imagine?” I said, as I did so myself. “Even if dusting was all the rooms needed, that would be a major task, since they have no idea how good you are at that.”
Miles laughed as he closed the door behind us, and the lock clicked into place.
“Perhaps I’d be better suited as a housekeeper, than a museum curator,” he smiled.
“No, but as a museum curator, you wouldn’t need a maid,” I declared.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Miles replied, as he put his arm around me. “What I will say, is that you’re the only maid I’ll ever need. And I don’t mean that in a housekeeping sense.”
“I’m not a maid, I’m a matron,” I informed him.
“So long as you’re mine, then all the better,” he replied softly.
Everything shimmered, but not like I was glimpsing the past. It was more like ripples of heat, because his tone was melting, and so was the look in his eyes. He took an all too brief moment to kiss me, then we continued on. Not that either of us wouldn’t rather continue what we were doing, but we were in a public hallway, and we did have an investigation awaiting us. So, we put off further kissing for later, and got back to it.
“It’s easier to understand now, why Lady Carlisle has been preoccupied ever since we got here,” I remarked. “Then she found out about Sir Edmund’s relationship with Ashley, and at that point, I doubt anything else mattered to her. Other than the Countess’ presence, her title, and her oblivion, which made her a convenient replacement.’
“Edmund’s engagement under duress, explains his preoccupation.” Miles said.
“Now that the guests to the ball have begun arriving, I’m not optimistic we’ll have the chance to get to know either of the Carlisles any more than we already have,” I commented.
“That, and the homicides committed last night, are likely to monopolize their time,” Miles agreed. “Perhaps we’ll find another opportunity down the road. For the rest of our stay, or until we accomplish the task set before us, I suspect we’ll be equally occupied.”
“What do you suppose is the best way to reach Ashley’s office?” I wondered.
“It’s on the ground floor, west wing,” Miles recalled.
“Thank goodness the manor’s wings don’t equal those at the estate, but that’s still a lot of territory,” I said.
“We’ve found smaller needles, in larger haystacks than this,” Miles reminded me.
“Yes, and that took several months,” I replied, and he shrugged a shoulder.
“What’s a day or two, by comparison?” he teased. “Don’t worry, we’ll ask a footman, if we have to. We’re bound to run into several, on the way there.”
We followed the main hall back to the main staircase, overlooking the entrance. An impressive number of people milled about below, as footmen scurried solemnly to see them to their assigned rooms. Rather than attempt to work our way through the masses congregated there, and those climbing the stairs, we crossed the landing to the opposite wing.
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br /> There were people here too, and lots of excited chatter. As we passed our suite, a portly middle-aged man grasped the knob to the bedroom known as Miles’. Before I could come up with any good reason why he would do that, a woman stuck her head out of the next room.
“Whatever do you think you’re doing?” she asked him rather indignantly. He looked back at her in surprise as he ceased his wrangling, then abruptly let go of the knob.
“It would appear I took rather a wrong turn,” he laughed sheepishly, as he made haste to join her.
“It’s fortunate you found the door locked, and no one inside to take offense,” she snapped. “See that you pay better attention, from here on.”
She wasn’t the only one who looked irritable, now. If I had to guess, I’d say the trip here—regardless of actual distance—was a long one.
We were past them, and down the hall with many a chattering couple between us, before the man could formulate a response. It was just as well. My truth ability often served to heal relationships by resolving misunderstandings between couples we encountered, but this was a case of plain old irritability, and it was not my mission in life to get involved in that!
Gradually the number of guests thinned, or maybe those further down the hall were more interested in their rooms, than in congregating outside them. Whatever the case, at last we were alone again.
“How much sound dampening do you suppose the doors, walls, and bed curtains provide?” I remarked quietly.
“Enough that I’m thankful we have the option of returning home every night,” Miles replied, and I laughed.
“Me too! For a growing number of reasons.”
We reached a branch in the hall, and Miles chose the one on the right. Next he chose left, then straight, then right again. He seemed to know where he was going, and evidently he did, because suddenly we found ourselves looking down on the bookcase lined lounge where we met Ashley, the day we arrived. I studied the closed doors lining the wall on one side, as we followed the curved railing to the circular staircase. I wondered if one of the rooms was hers, and if so, was she inside? There was no way to tell without knocking, and if she was trying to avoid others, she wouldn’t come to the door anyway.
But… from what we knew of her, that wasn’t where I’d expect to find her. Wherever she was, I was certain she was hard at work, ensuring the charity ball would be a success.
We descended the staircase, and crossed the floor to the arched doorway.
“We’re on the ground floor, at any rate,” Miles remarked, as we entered the corridor. “We’re also in the west wing. If we run into anyone, we’ll ask for directions. Until then, we’ll see if we can’t come across Ashley’s office, ourselves.”
“If it’s on the other side of one of the doors we passed on the way here Tuesday evening, it isn’t labeled,” I considered.
“Then let’s leave knocking at unmarked doors as a last resort,” Miles replied, and guided me through an arched doorway on the right, to uncharted territory. We followed the broad corridor to another arch, and into a drawing room.
A chaise lounge, dainty sofa, a variety of easy chairs, ottomans, and end tables occupied the large, heavily flowered area rug that filled much of the wood floor. Several palms, ferns, curio cabinets, a small bookcase, and fireplace, shared space along three of the flowery pink, papered walls. The tall, broad windows that lined the fourth, overlooked a section of the grounds. Raindrops sparkled from each petal and leaf in the rays of sun that escaped between the white clouds that now dominated the sky in place of gray. It appeared as though the storm might be past.
“So what floor are we on now?” I said, as we looked down on the rose garden, which was at least three-quarters of a story lower in elevation than the room we were in.
“Still ground, though you wouldn’t know it by the distance it would take to get there,” Miles replied. He started to turn away, but I gripped his arm. He stopped, and followed my gaze. “What is it?”
“Right there,” I pointed. “Do you see that bower of roses, how it makes kind of a nook? And those benches.”
“Yes,” Miles acknowledged.
“That’s where James and Katherine were, when they saw Evie. I’m sure that’s it… and there, you can see a glimpse of the greenhouses from here,” I said, which reminded me of Finn, and the devastation wrought during the night. Concern gnawed at me, again. There was sympathy in Miles’ eyes as he caught the look in mine. He wrapped his arms around me, and I leaned against him.
“We’ll figure this out,” Miles said gently. “Whatever it is… to the best of our abilities, we’ll make it right.”
“That’s the truth,” I said, and the thought of the abilities we’d been entrusted with, and the good accomplished through them so far, gave me the encouragement I needed.
“Of that, you can be certain,” Miles answered. “There is no need to fear otherwise.”
“Your words are a comfort to me,” I said. “Truly, it shall all come right, as you say...”
The room began to shimmer.
“It’s happening again,” I said, and my voice sounded far away.
“I’ve got you,” Miles answered, as his arms tightened around me. I nodded as I gripped the front of his sweater, and closed my eyes.
Sunlight poured freely through the ample windows of the drawing room, lighting the tea service on the low table near the sofa, the tray of sandwiches, scones, cakes, and fruit, and the varying shades of blond, silver, and dark hair of the five women gathered there.
“What a lovely piece,” Katharine commented, as she admired the crocheted lace taking shape under the skillful fingers of the elderly woman seated nearby.
“So it is,” the woman agreed, as she paused briefly to survey its progress. “A bride cannot have too much of it, so far as I am concerned.”
“You have ensured that I am more than amply supplied, Grandmother Bannerman,” Evie smiled. “Indeed, I have more than enough. My trousseau was complete long ago, and adequate even then to satisfy any number of brides.”
“Indeed, all that remains is the ceremony itself,” the middle-aged woman remarked mildly, as she poured milk into each teacup. “How fortunate that yesterday’s sudden illness was only brief, after all. Perhaps you shall manage to meet your intended before the day arrives. Douglas would prefer it, I am certain. He was most disappointed by your absence.”
Evie’s cheeks flushed faintly at the hint of reproof in her mother’s voice.
“I cannot imagine why,” Katharine retorted lightly enough, though her brown eyes flashed. She was hard-pressed to separate Lady Frances’ and Sir William’s determination to bind their daughter to a stranger, from her own father’s hard-hearted, self-serving attempt. If not for James... “It is not as though seating arrangements are such as to encourage the nurturing of one’s marriage, or that which is intended.”
Evie’s blue eyes widened ever so slightly, as did those of the other young woman. The elder Lady Bannerman’s sparkled with sudden amusement.
If Lady Frances’ forehead creased ever so faintly in response, it was her only acknowledgement. She set aside the small pitcher of milk, then placed the strainer on the cup nearest. Pouring the steaming, fragrant tea from the teapot into the strainer, she then removed it and the loose leaves collected therein, and set the cup and its saucer at the elder Lady Bannerman’s place.
“I believe the gentlemen have finished their clays,” Lady Frances said mildly. “Do open the windows, Helen, and we shall have the pleasure of the breeze as it passes over the gardens.”
The young woman seated by the elder Lady Bannerman rose from her place, and did so. Within moments, fresh, rose scented air gently flowed into the room, stirring the draperies and rustling the fronds of the parlor palms. It cooled Katharine’s cheeks as well, though it did little to ease the antagonism she felt on behalf of James’ young cousin. That Evie’s mother would be anything but sympathetic toward her daughter’s nervousness spoke volumes, by her way of
thinking.
The young woman, Helen, took her seat once more, and the elder Lady Bannerman turned to Katharine.
“Do, tell us of James’ family. Letters do not much serve to satisfy curiosity, only to stir it, and it is long since we attended your sister-in-law’s wedding.”
Katharine was thankful it was of James’ family the older woman inquired, rather than her own. She was also grateful for the voyage, which provided the opportunity not only to become well acquainted with her husband, but to learn of the intervening years that separated them since the same wedding of which Evie’s grandmother spoke. How terribly awkward, if she knew no more than they! How potentially disastrous, should she feel compelled to make something up!
“James’ mother is well, though the grief of her losses is never far from her mind,” Katharine replied, and sympathy touched her voice as she recalled it. “While James and I are away, she is making a much anticipated visit to Cynthia’s home, and the orphanage to which she and her husband have devoted much of their lives.”
The elder Lady Bannerman had many questions, which did indeed tax Katharine’s knowledge on the subject, but when at last tea came to an end, she did not think there was much about James’ family of which he need be informed.
A soft footstep sounded from out in the hall, and Lady Frances looked up. Katherine followed her gaze to the butler, who stood just inside the doorway. He held a silver salver, on which rested a calling card.
“If you please, my lady,” he said solemnly. “Sir Douglas Carlisle, and Lady Carlisle have arrived.”
“Has Sir William been informed?” Lady Frances asked, and not by the flicker of an eyelash did she give away her discomfiture at the arrival of the groom’s parents, a day ahead of schedule.
“He has, my lady,” the butler answered.
“Very well, Edgar. That will be all,” Lady Frances replied.
The butler bowed in acknowledgement, then made his departure. Lady Frances rose from her seat.
“If you will excuse me,” she addressed the occupants of the room at large, then cast a stern glance at her daughter. “Do see to it, that nothing prevents you in joining us for dinner.”
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