“Keira?”
I jumped in my seat and my eyes flew open. Lawrence stood across from me, reaching for the empty glasses. There was a glint in his eyes. “Are you ready for me to show you the rest of the house, specifically your quarters?”
“Yes.” I tossed the napkin onto the table. “The sandwich was good. Thanks.”
“Would you mind bringing your plate? We might as well start with the kitchen.”
My eyes flashed to his and I paused for a beat. At home, I wouldn’t have thought anything of clearing my dishes away but we didn’t have a butler or whatever it was that Lawrence did. It was clear he worked for GM but his butler service didn’t extend to me. “Sure.” I forced a casual smile and picked up the napkin and plate. If he was trying to get under my skin, I wasn’t going to show him it was working.
I followed him from the room and through the corridor under the main set of stairs. He veered to the right and pushed a door open with his shoulder. When I entered the kitchen it was a total surprise. Even though the house was an antique with high ceilings and dark wooden baseboards which were almost a foot high, this room was the height of modern living with stainless steel appliances and polished granite countertops. A small table was placed at the far end beside a spacious window which showed a view of the garden and river.
Lawrence folded his body over the open door of the dishwasher and set the glasses inside. “It’s too bad the rain started. I could have shown you the river and the gardens. Pamela’s roses are as beautiful as any horticulturalist’s.” He smiled, and his gaze at me softened. “Roses are her favorite flower.”
“Does she tend to them herself?” It seemed odd that she would, considering she used a cane when she walked.
His eyebrows rose high and he chuckled. “She oversees! No, I do most everything around here.” He pulled back as if seeing me for the first time. “I suppose, I should ask if you have any food allergies. It wouldn’t do to serve you mushrooms if you swell up like a balloon.”
“Nope. Although I’m not overly fond of pork, I love bacon, though I try to limit it.” It would probably be a stretch to hope for marshmallows and melon.
He plucked the plate from my hand and slid it into the dishwasher. “No worries about meals then. I serve dinner and anything else Pamela wants... but for breakfast and lunch, you’re on your own. I assume you’ll manage. Make a list of any foods you want and I’ll see they’re delivered. We’re kind of light on frozen pizza and we’re too far from town for takeout.”
His eyebrows bobbed high and a small grin formed on his lips. “We’ll start with the dining room.” He led the way through another door and we entered a large room with a table which could have easily sat a regiment. A crystal chandelier hung low over the center, and lining the closest wall was a large dark cabinet. A vase of red roses that were starting to wilt topped a linen cloth, and a decanter of brandy sat next to it.
“Can I include wine and gin on the list of items I would like?”
“Just add it to the list.”
“And melon? Honeydew if you can get it. And marshmallows. Not the mini’s either—the biggest ones you can find.”
He gave me that look I’ve seen a million times. I get that look whenever anyone asks me what my favorite snack food is and I tell them the truth. Honeydew melon and big marshmallows. You can keep your ice cream, pretzels or whatever; that’s mine. So, needless to say, Lawrence stared at me like I was out of my mind.
He gave his head a slight shake. “You did say marshmallows and melon, right?”
“Yep. Can’t get enough of it. Big marshmallows.”
“Ohhkaaay. Just put it on the list.”
Nodding, I continued perusing the dining room. I paused to look at the large oil canvas displayed on the far wall. There was something forlorn about it. A young woman with long auburn locks in an old-fashioned white robe perched on the seat of a rowboat. Weeds and bullrushes scraped the hull of the boat which was sitting near the shore—the water a marine blue. The dappled sunlight from overhead highlighted the folds of her dress and the tapestry casually draped over the side of the boat. But it was her look of longing, gazing off in the distance which made me stare.
“A curse is on her, if she stays.” Lawrence had sidled up beside me, gazing at the painting. “It’s an original Waterhouse in his Lady of Shalott series. Perhaps you read the poem in school. The painting was a rare find for Pamela when she was in England.” He turned and opened the door at the far end of the room.
“Thanks.” I slipped by him and was once more in the airy foyer of the house. The gloom of the day outside had settled and now the high corners were shadowed and the balustrade above, on the second floor, looked more like the bars of a prison.
His footsteps were soft, crossing the floor and he paused in the arched opening. “The living room.” His hand made a sweep, inviting me to take a peek inside.
As miffed as I was being banished to this house, I have to admit it was a gorgeous room. From the prim French Provincial style of the sofa and chairs, clad in a floral upholstery, to the stone fireplace at the far end. The windows showed rivulets of rain behind the lacy curtains and a cushion covered the deep wells of the sill. It would be a great place to sit and read a book or surf the web with a computer, passing the time.
Lawrence cleared his throat, signaling this part of the tour had ended. I joined him again and as we passed the next closed door, his voice lowered. “That’s the library but it’s been converted to a bedroom for Pamela. She doesn’t do stairs anymore. The cane helps with the rheumatism in her hips, but climbing stairs has become too much for her.”
He started up the wide arc of the circular staircase and turned to me. “My room is on the second floor as well as two other bedrooms and a bathroom. There’re laundry facilities in a small alcove next to the bathroom.” He wasn’t even winded from the hike up the stairs, whereas I was feeling the strain in my legs. “Any questions?”
I stepped up onto the second-floor landing, and paused looking down the hallway. A series of closed doors, and an oriental runner covering the center of the hardwood floors before them, met my eye. The half-moon window at the end of the hallway broke the expanse of the wall, the dull light from the outside peeking through. “This place is huge. Do you ever have guests or is this just empty space?”
“Very rarely, but it has happened a few times.” His head jerked to the side. “My room and bath are over there.”
As we climbed the final narrower set of stairs, I remembered my computer. “We have Internet, right? What’s the password to log on?” If I was to stay sane in this house, I’d need to connect to the outside world. Plus, I probably should send an email to my parents to let them know I survived the trip. Mom had some hard questions coming her way with all this talk of protection.
He snorted. “Susie Q. Capital ‘S’ and ‘Q’.” He glanced over at me and rolled his eyes. “There was a popular song way back when and besides it’s your mother’s name. I’ll write it out for you.” He reached over and swung open the door to what was going to be my room.
I ignored the subtle put-down because my eyes widened when my bed-sitting room appeared. It had to be almost thirty feet long with ceilings that sloped down to side walls which were only a few feet high. There were windows cut into the roof, casting light over the golden hardwood floors. A queen-sized bed with the same comforter I’d had in my apartment sat against the far wall. Even my Mexican rug was there!
I raced past my luggage and sat on the bed, testing it for softness. It was perfect. A desk, a small sofa and chair in the center of the room as well as a small counter with a sink, a fridge and microwave perched on the other side of the room. If it wasn’t stuck in the middle of nowhere, the apartment would be great.
“There are cupboards in the knee walls for more storage.” Lawrence wandered over to a section between the two windows and a recessed door slid back, revealing drawers with antique brass handles. He straightened and closed the sliding doo
r once more. “You’ll find fresh fruit, soda, milk and cheese in the fridge and a supply of cookies and coffee in the cabinets.”
He wandered over to the kitchen and took a notebook and pen from his shirt pocket. “Here’s the password for the Internet.” He paused and sighed. “Your bathroom is just over there, on the other side of these stairs. If you need anything else, just let me know. Your grandmother will be up at six for cocktails in the living room.” He nodded and disappeared down the stairs.
Now that I was alone in my new quarters, I decided to explore. I walked by the stairwell and opened the door to my bathroom. Against one wall, was an oversized, high, antique claw bathtub, while the sink and vanity claimed the opposite side, next to the toilet. The place was huge with black and white ceramic tile, and walls painted an oyster-shell pink.
I couldn’t help but realize GM had laid everything out just for me. Mom and Dad must have sent my comforter and apartment items ahead to make the place seem more like home. All in all, it was exactly how I would have decorated it.
I plucked my cell phone from my pocket to check the time. It was a twenty past four. The long day was wearing on my bones and I’d have just enough time to take a nap before I had to meet GM. My shoulders sagged as I wandered out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom area.
I stopped short when I saw my bed. The comforter was now folded back, showing a triangle of crisp white sheets below the pillow. My gaze shot to the stairwell for any sign of Lawrence. But it was empty. That guy moves like a cat. Who else would have turned down the bed for me? GM was asleep and besides she didn’t do stairs.
Another wave of dizziness flooded through me and I reached for the side of the sofa to steady myself as I continued to stare at the bed. My stomach churned and the sandwich which had tasted so good earlier, was now sour, gurgling up my throat. I took a few deep breaths to settle it down and swallowed hard.
The bed that had seemed so inviting before, held little appeal now. Someone had been in my room, invading my privacy. There must be another person working there. It was the only explanation and the more I thought about it, the more sense it made, considering Lawrence was so old. There was no way he’d be able to cook, care for GM and maintain the housekeeping. It would have been nice if he’d introduced the other staff though, instead of them creeping me out like this.
Either he did it, or had instructed someone else do this without telling me. At any rate, I wasn’t so sure he liked me being there.
SEVEN
I SHOOK OFF THE DIZZY SPELL and decided to use the time before meeting up with GM to unpack and settle into my room. There was even time to spare to send off an email to Mom and Dad. I couldn’t wait to see what they came back with about this protection business.
It had been a few days since I let my friends know via email and some Snapchats that I was kicked out of school and lost my apartment. None of them—not even Cerise—had bothered to reply. Not a peep, and some of these guys I grew up with! I was tempted to phone Cerise and give her a piece of my mind. But really, why bother? So after shooting off my email to my parents I closed my laptop. I stared at it for a minute and then put it back into its travel case and tucked it beside the desk. Maybe going off the grid for a while was a good idea anyway.
I looked at the clock and saw that GM would be expecting me for cocktails before dinner shortly. I stood up to start getting ready.
In the bathroom, I stared at my reflection wondering if I was supposed to change into something more formal for dinner with GM. It probably wouldn’t hurt. I’d been sick in the plane and the shirt and jeans seemed pretty stale from that experience. I turned the shower on, before peeling the layers of clothes off and leaving them in a tussled heap in the center of the floor.
Even the shampoo and body wash set out for me were ones that I used back home. GM had gone to a lot of trouble to make me feel welcome. The hot water was wonderful on my skin and I hummed a tune as I lathered the perfumed soap into my skin. After a few minutes the pressure dropped and the water cooled. Just my luck that Lawrence would pick this time of day to run the dishwasher or laundry, hogging the hot water.
I turned the water off and reached for the towel hanging on the bar next to the tub. It was fluffy and soft on my skin when I dried off and then stepped out, pondering what to wear. I could probably get away with leggings and my long silk top with the gold earrings and bangles.
I reached for my terry robe hanging behind the door and my gaze drifted to the floor. My clothes. There was no sign of my jeans or the top I’d been wearing. My eyes opened wide and I tugged the sides of the robe tight to my chin. How dare they! Someone had come in—unannounced—while I was naked in the shower, and taken my clothes!
I ran the comb through my hair, tugging a few stray strands out in the process. A small spot in the mirror appeared from the cloud of condensation and my nostrils flared as I yanked at my hair. This was too much! I’d have to speak to GM about this! If this was my space then whatever servant was creeping around up here, cleaning up and setting my comforter back had better buzz off. I hated people touching my stuff, on a good day; the idea of people I didn’t even know going through my things really, really pissed me off.
Grabbing my makeup case, I sneered wondering if it had been rifled as well. I smeared some lipstick on and freshened my mascara. It was my grandmother’s eyes that stared back at me—the same shade of blue and the slight upward tilt at the corners. Well, she might be trying her best to make me into a mini-me of her but I was having none of it. At least I respected other people’s privacy, dammit.
My footsteps slapped the floor as I strode into the bedroom. Spying the wicker clothes hamper, I stomped over and lifted the lid. Yup. The clothes I’d been wearing earlier, lay in a tangled heap. If I hadn’t needed to wash them before, I definitely needed to do that now. Someone’s hands had been all over them.
***
When I stepped into the living room, GM was already perched on the sofa. Her eyes were crinkled in a smile above the choker neckline of the white dress draping her frail frame. The jewel of her tennis bracelet caught the light when she lifted her frosted glass of a pale drink. The only sign she’d been sleeping earlier was the fact that a few wisps of hair now escaped the loose roll at the back of her head.
“Keira. Would you care for a gin gimlet? Lawrence has made a pitcher of them.” She gestured to a sideboard tucked in an alcove near the window. “I hope you found your room comfortable and that you have everything you need.”
Gin gimlet, huh? My favorite drink when I go out with Cerise just happened to be the cocktail for this evening?
She gave me a quick smile. “I adore a nice gin gimlet in the evening; it’s my favorite cocktail.”
“I’ll bet it is,” I said as I ambled over to the table to fill a glass which had been left for me.
“So, do you like your room?”
“Everything is great!” I picked up the glass and turned to join her on the sofa. “The only thing... well, I’m a private person and I’m used to doing things for myself. I don’t need your maid to turn down my bed or pick up after me.” In an annoyed tone I added, “I don’t like people touching me, GM, and the idea of people I don’t know touching my clothes kind of grosses me out, okay?”
Her eyebrows rose and she smiled. “We don’t have a maid, Keira. There are a couple of women who come in twice a week to clean and dust but other than that, it’s just Lawrence and me.”
“Come on! My clothes... someone picked them up from the bathroom floor and deposited them into the hamper. And my comforter...” I knew Lawrence had gone downstairs before that had happened but I couldn’t be sure about the clothes. But wait... the water pressure in the shower had dropped like he’d been using an appliance somewhere else in the house.
GM took a sip of the drink, eyeing me above the rim of the glass. “Lawrence has prepared roast beef with Yorkshire pudding for dinner tonight. It’s one of my favorites... in honor of you being here.”
> “So there’s no one else here but the three of us?” I wasn’t letting go of this just yet.
She chuckled and patted my knee. “Not a living soul, my dear.”
Ha! Not a soul that she knew of. She sounded totally sincere. Yet, how could she be so blasé about this after all the talk earlier about protecting me? The house was in the middle of nowhere and Lawrence hadn’t used a key to enter when we arrived from the airport. They probably never locked their doors. They’d get eaten alive in the Big Apple.
“GM,” I looked down at my lap for a moment, “someone moved my clothes from the bathroom, and it wasn’t Lawrence, you or me. I think someone has broken into your house.” Even as I said it, the absurdity of the situation made my neck get warm. A burglar who tidied up? That didn’t make any sense.
“I could save serious money on housekeeping if people broke in and cleaned houses.” The smile dropped from her lips and she leaned closer. “How did you feel when that happened?”
My head jerked back and I stared at her. What an odd question. “I was angry of course. I don’t like people pawing through my stuff!”
“That’s all?” She looked down at the drink in her hand. “You didn’t smell anything or feel a little off-kilter?” Her dark eyes rose to meet mine.
I huffed a fast sigh. Someone was in the house and she was acting like some kind of therapist? Asking about my feelings?
My forehead tightened. I had clutched the side of the sofa because of the dizziness when I saw the coverlet of the bed pulled back. Was this what she meant? “Actually, I did feel a little nausea.” I leaned away from her and my grip on the glass became tighter. “GM what’s going on?”
At the series of taps, I turned and saw Lawrence standing in the archway, his gaze gentle as he watched my grandmother. “Anytime you’re ready, Pamela? Dinner is warm in the oven if you’d like another drink with Keira.”
A Grave Conjuring Page 22
