Upon entering the library, Patricia found it to be the avid readers dream with wall-to-wall bookcases filled with hundreds of books. The massive old furniture included comfortable chairs placed near the stately old fireplace, lit with an inviting blaze, where the reader could spend countless hours in old world charm. Over in a nook just left of the fireplace stood an antique desk that looked suspiciously like one Patricia had seen used repeatedly as the background for the Grayson Manor photos on the web site she had discovered about the Grayson family. She was totally captivated.
Impressed by her surroundings and the history implied there, Patricia was taking a closer look at the books when she heard the slow labored sound of someone approaching the library door. The woman who entered wore a black vintage dress with her black hair worn straight just below her ears. She appeared arthritic, with gnarled hands and her back so bent that the only thing that appeared to be keeping her upright was the ornate cane that she leaned heavily upon as she moved into the room and took the closest chair.
“Who is Hannah Ivy?” Patricia thought as she watched the measured progress of the older woman. “Hello Ms. Ivy.” She said out loud. Hannah regarded the girl with an enigmatic look, dark eyes sharp and appraising. Upon closer inspection, Hannah Ivy seemed younger than Patricia had first thought. Regal even in her deteriorated state, she motioned for the girl to sit in the chair across from her.
‘Your Patricia Grayson?” the woman asked as she eased herself into a chair motioning for Patricia to also sit. “Yes, I am Patricia Grayson, and Flannel Grayson is a brother to my father, David Grayson.” The girl answered, as she sat down across from the older woman. “With her right eyebrow slightly raised, Hannah Ivy said, “Really.” Now, Hannah knew about David Grayson, Flannel Grayson’s brother, but she was not aware that there had been a child. You just never can be too careful she thought. What if this girl was an imposter?
“Yes. About one week ago I received a letter from Grant Cameron, my Uncle Flannel Grayson’s lawyer, informing me that he, Flannel Grayson, is my uncle.” The young girl added ignoring Hannah’s obvious suspicion. “The letter also included an invitation to visit him here at Grayson Manor.”
“As I told you when we spoke on the telephone a few days ago, Mr. Grayson has been very ill.” Hannah said, in her tremulous voice, her head shaking for emphasis. “Most of the time he is unresponsive, and when he is awake, he is incoherent. I really don’t understand how he could have extended an invitation to anyone.” She continued, looking across at Patricia suspiciously
“You are welcome to read the letter Ms. Ivy.” Patricia said, as she took the letter and handed it to Hannah. Quickly glancing over the letter, Hannah grunted. ”Uh Huh. Uh huh ” As she handed the letter back to Patricia, she spoke slowly as if in deep thought, her body shaking in a palsy, and her head shaking for emphasis.
“Perhaps you should stay until we can settle this matter. I don’t want any misunderstandings. I am here to protect Mr. Grayson’s interest you understand. I’ll call my maid, Elsa, and she will show you to a room where I hope that you will be comfortable.”
Giving Patricia a look of dismissal, she reached for a small bell on the table near her. When the maid appeared seconds later, Hannah gave her instructions. To Patricia she added. “Dinner is always at six.” Patricia’s, “Thank you.” went unacknowledged as the arthritic old woman raised herself with difficulty from the chair, leaned heavily on her cane, and shuffled slowly out of the room.
As Patricia followed the maid from the room, she mentally kicked herself for not asking Hannah what her relationship was to Flannel Grayson, and why didn’t she ask what was wrong with her uncle? She hoped that it wasn’t anything fatal. As for Hannah being family, she did not resemble Patricia’s father at all. Hannah had dark eyes and hair, where her father had blonde hair and blue eyes.
As she followed the maid to the second floor landing, she wondered if her uncle’s physical appearance would also be fair like her father’s. From the landing they turned down a shadowy hallway where the maid halted in front of the second door. When she opened the door and turned on the light, through the doorway, Patricia could see a beautiful room with lots of old world tapestry and lace. As she entered, she was standing on a carpet that covered the floor, still beautiful though faded over time; The carpet had a rose motif with a creamy background with blue and green leaves. The tapestry on the canopy bed was the same fabric used to cover the chair, the windows had airy lace curtains, and the flounce on the bedspread appeared to be antique lace. The heavy mahogany furniture completed the look of old world charm. Patricia turned from admiring the room to thank the maid, who reassured her that her luggage would be sent right up.
“Thank you Elsa.” Patricia said. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” Elsa asked, looking at Patricia expectantly. “Yes. Could you tell me what room Flannel Grayson is in?” “I don’t see any reason why you should not know where Mr. Grayson is, but you should know that no one is allowed to go in there?” Elsa said, looking a little uncertain. Patricia, who was just glad for the information, said reassuringly.
“I understand. Sure.” though nothing was going to keep her out of her uncle’s room. “Mr. Grayson is on the third floor, first door on the right. No one attends to him except Hannah Ivy, his nurse, Milly Finney, and Doctor Phillips.” The maid offered, crossing over to the door. “I do understand.” Patricia said again. “Thank you Elsa.”
As Elsa left, the young girl crossed over to French doors delighted to discover that the room had a small balcony with a view of the gardens in the back of the manor, which suddenly reminded her of Snuffles. Her little dog was out there somewhere, and Patricia hoped fervently that he was staying out of trouble. Only moments passed before her luggage was delivered, and because she was tired, she took a shower, and then lay down to take a short break and fell asleep.
When the young girl awoke, feeling refreshed, she looked at her watch and saw that it was almost five o’clock. She dressed quickly in a lightweight summer dress with a single strand of pearls and tan sandals. As she stood before the mirror combing her shoulder length hair, she was aware of her resemblance to her father, who had also had blonde hair and blue eyes. She also had her mothers wide set eyes, high cheekbones and full mouth.
Leaving the lovely room, she took the stairs to the first floor where the air hung heavily with the odor of antiquated wood and furniture polish. Being in the entrance hall alone, Patricia instinctively turned toward the door to the room just across the entrance from the library, into the huge room that earlier had been semidarkness. Finding the light switch, she turned it on and watched the room come alive with the light of the nearest chandelier. The Victorian décor was straight out of the nineteenth century, with gleaming wood floors, ornate furniture, a huge fireplace, and priceless looking paintings lining the walls. The distant wall, to her delight, displayed what appeared to be generations of Grayson family portraits. Drawn to them, Patricia was impressed by handsome gentlemen wearing civil war uniforms and ladies dressed in the cumbersome, but beautiful dress worn by the Grayson women of yesteryear.
In the center of the wall hung two portraits side by side. One was a likeness of her father with blonde hair and blue eyes and powerful build. The second portrait resembled her father also with blonde hair and blue eyes, but the difference was that this man had a slighter build and kind eyes. It occurred to the girl that the portraits might be a young version of her father David and her Uncle Flannel Grayson.
Walking the length of the wall, Patricia came to stand in front of the portrait of a young girl in a creamy white ball gown, and around her neck she wore a single strand of pearls. Automatically her hand went up to caress the strand of pearls around her own neck, a gift from her mother. Patricia was overwhelmed as she saw the startling resemblance between herself and this distant relative of long ago. The portrait from the past was like an echo from the past that reflected a sense of wealth and graciousness. This wall lined with the
portraits of her long deceased relatives also spoke of family unity and history. Her own sense of kinship and belonging as she stood in front of her own likeness, immortalized in oil, was overwhelming. Patricia reigned herself in smoothing her emotions at this profound revelation, then left the room with purpose, even more determined to meet her Uncle Flannel Grayson. She was so excited. She needed to calm down. She actually felt as if she were glowing.
As she went out on the veranda to look for her dog, she noticed a scruffy looking man fishing downriver from where she stood. Must be nice she thought, at the same time checking her watch. She didn’t see her dog anywhere and it was almost six o’clock. She must not be late for her first meal in her ancestry home. Searching for her little dog would have to wait. Reentering, she followed the hallway to the back where she could hear people moving around. The open door to the dining room revealed a massive dining table, ornate, and gleaming, beautifully set, and sitting at the head of the table was Hannah Ivy.
As she entered the room, Hannah greeted her cordially and motioned for Patricia to sit on her right. Still under the spell of the young girl in the portrait, Patricia sat down and returned the greeting. A young man who looked to still be in his twenties, sat across from her, and sitting next to him was a young girl closer to her own age. Patricia nodded at them and said hello as Hannah introduced them.
Hannah proudly motioned towards the young man. “Patricia, this is my nephew Justin Grayson, and next to him is his sister Elizabeth, who is my niece.” And she extended her gaze and hand to the young man and girl.
Both Elizabeth and Justin looked across at Patricia with interest, and said hello. Justin smiled a big white smile meant to charm. “Justin works in the family banking business, and Elizabeth is in college. She is just here for the weekend.” Hannah Ivy added. Justin, Elizabeth, this is Patricia Grayson. She will be staying here at Grayson Manor for a few days.” She finished as she motioned to Patricia.
Patricia noted the introduction as she smiled and nodded to the brother and sister. So, Hannah Ivy thought Patricia was only staying for a few days. She smiled to herself as she remembered that her Uncle Flannel Grayson had said in the letter that she, Patricia was his only heir. She wondered if any of them knew. She didn’t think so. Oh, wait, then what about that incident at her house involving the hairdryer. Could this be what that was all about? If so, then someone did know. She felt a chill down her spine, but to the others in the room she appeared calm and smiling.
“Your name is Patricia Grayson?“ Elizabeth stated. “Does that mean that you are related to us?” the girl asked eagerly. “She received a letter from your Uncle Flannel saying that she is his niece, his brother, David Grayson’s daughter, which would make her your cousin.” Chimed in Hannah before Patricia could reply. “Really. A cousin?” Elizabeth said smiling at Patricia in anticipation taking a sip from her wineglass.
“I have always wanted a sister. We can do things together like sisters do. I need to go shopping tomorrow to get a few things before I go back-to-school. Maybe you could go with me, and we could hang out all day.” she gushed. “I, also, have always wanted a sister Elizabeth, and yes, I would love to spend the day with you.” Patricia smiled, and the two girls smiled across the table in agreement.
Justin put on a forlorn look and said, “What about me Lizzy? Do I get to go on this day out?” “No, Justin. You hate shopping.” Then she laughed. “Well, I could learn to love it.” He said looking across at Patricia meaningfully. “Justin, you are not going shopping with us.” His sister said decidedly. “Well, I guess, if I am not invited, I’ll just sit around here and be lonesome.” He said with a mock forlorn look. “Justin, you never just sit around anywhere for anyone, and I do not believe that you have ever been lonesome.” His sister professed, as she grinned at her brother.
Elizabeth and Justin understood each other. Justin was protective towards his little sister, and Elizabeth did not put up with any of her brothers nonsense. Justin was just messing with her, and she knew it.
For the rest of the meal, Hannah went on to talk about a flower show she wanted to attend (It seems she grew prize roses.) There was no mention of Flannel Grayson, which Patricia thought should have been the uppermost subject on everyone’s mind.
Before the evening was over, Patricia planned to ask Hannah how she was related to the Grayson family. Hannah had finished her dinner and was enjoying a last cup of tea when she saw her chance.
“I noticed that you called Justin and Elizabeth your nephew and niece. Does this mean that you are also a Grayson?” Patricia looked expectantly at the older woman as she waited for her answer. Hannah’s first instinct, which she quickly hid, was indignation, then displeasure. The girl sensing Hannah’s emotional conflict, waited with baited breath for an answer.
“My sister, Phoebe, married Jack Grayson years ago.” Hannah stated proudly leaning her head back, and crossing her arms, eyes focused somewhere in the past as if she had mentally returned to another day and time. “Oh. OK, I see.” Patricia responded companionably.
It occurred to Patricia that, if she had not known about Flannel Grayson until a week ago, then Hannah had not known about Patricia until she had showed up at Grayson Manor today, hence the questioning attitude.
“Yes.” Hannah continued. “Justin and Elizabeth are the children of my sister Phoebe and Jack Grayson, who was a brother to Flannel and David Grayson.” Patricia, knowing that Hannah was not kin to the Grayson’s just because her sister had married into the Grayson family, did take note that being Justin and Elizabeth’s aunt did give her rights. That did not explain, however her being the mistress of Grayson Manor. She wondered what circumstances had brought about this arrangement.
Hannah soon excused herself and retired for the evening leaving Patricia alone at the table with Justin and Elizabeth. She asked Justin how long he and his family had lived at Grayson Manor.
“My aunt Hannah has always lived at Grayson Manor, and Elizabeth and I have lived here most of our lives. My father was killed when he was thrown from a horse years ago. My mother Phoebe doesn’t stay in one place very long. She loves to travel and sometimes Elizabeth travels with her. I, personally, am not much of a jetsetter.”
“I am sorry that you lost your father, and maybe someday I can meet your mother. I also lost my father several years ago, and I just lost my mother this last year.” Patricia said heartfelt. “So I know about loss.” She added.
Justin leaned forward and confided in her. “My Aunt Hannah is a bit of a grouch sometimes. It’s the arthritis, I think. She does have her good days though.” He added in defense. Patricia was glad for the opening. “She is not encouraging about the state of Flannel Grayson’s health. I hope that I will get to see him soon.” “I don’t like being the bearer of bad news, but you may not get to see him at all.” Justin said as he turned as Elizabeth left the table.
“See you in the morning Patricia.” Elizabeth said smiling. “With bells on.” Patricia returned. “ See you later Lizzy.” Justin called affectionately as she waved her hand behind her and disappeared down the hallway.
Turning back to Patricia, Justin added. “The old man is on his last legs, I am afraid. He has been really down for the last couple of weeks. He has been sick before. It could be that he won’t recover at all this time.”
“Flannel Grayson has had problems with his health before?” the young girl asked.
“Yes. About a month ago he got down sick, and we were worried about him. He did get better, but it seems more serious this time. He sleeps a lot, and when he is awake, you can’t have a conversation with him because he seems confused.’
“Has he been to see a doctor?” Patricia asked concerned. “Sure, The doctor comes to the house regularly to check on him. He doesn’t offer much hope for uncle’s recovery. Uncle Flannel is getting old you know. We should prepare ourselves for the worst, I ‘m afraid.”
”I am so sorry to hear that. I would hate to lose him just as I have learned of his e
xistence. I was looking forward to getting to know him.” “Yes, this is a sad situation.” Justin said sympathetically. “It doesn’t look good though.” He added discouragingly.
Even though the responses from Justin were obviously meant to appear sincere, there was something in his manner that she did not trust. While what he said sounded sincere, his body language indicated otherwise. Something told her that she should personally check on her uncle.
Patricia stood to retire from the dining room, and Justin also stood. “It has been very nice to meet you Justin, but I am tired. It has been a long day for me. Maybe I will see you tomorrow.” “Maybe.” Justin replied. “I have a lot on my agenda tomorrow, but I might be back late evening.” “Maybe I will see you then.” She said, thinking that keeping up with Justin and always knowing what he was up to, might be a good thing.
The Curse Of Ivy Page 3