Chapter 34
Harper followed a memory she had no right to on the path to the kitchen.
Bottle glass cubes lined wide windows in a large breakfast nook to her right, where Lady Bell and Nigel sat at a round, wooden table.
To her left was a marvel of a restaurant grade kitchen.
Harper didn’t know what half the ovens, steamers, and contraptions might even do, but it was clear that Bell Manor was accustomed to catering to crowds.
Kaitlyn was busy at work alongside three white-aproned assistants.
She quietly pointed them to tasks as she carried a tray to the table and delivered three plates.
One waited for Harper next to a crystal glass of water.
“Harper, just in time!” Lady Bell said cheerily. “I like to eat lunch in here, or on the patio when it’s more hospitable outside. The rain is already starting, good thing you got here when you did.”
Harper made her way to the table and sat down to what appeared to be fresh vegetables and mozzarella on a croissant roll, and a green salad on the side.
“I do hope this is alright. We tend not to stand on attention for lunch,” Lady Bell said.
Harper shook off the last of the fog that clouded her. “It looks great. Again, thank you for having me.”
“Our pleasure,” Nigel said as he took a bite of salad.
“My room is stunning,” Harper said as she picked up her croissant.
“Good, glad it suits you. You are in the Sunbird Suite. It was updated and the furniture modernized. I find that the antiques you will find in our ‘show’ suites are lovely but not designed for comfort. I think you will find that the Sunbird Suite is designed to spoil its occupant. Have you seen your study?” Lady Bell asked as she bit into her lunch.
“I have a study? On top of that amazing room?” Harper asked incredulously.
“Oh yes,” Nigel responded. “Examine it at your leisure. Right across the hall, it is entirely for your use. We figured you might have need to do a bit of work while you were with us, we have Wi-Fi.” He looked at Harper, bemused at her surprised expression.
“You thought we were a tomb, didn’t you? ” he asked teasingly.
Harper laughed. “No, but I will admit, I didn’t expect …”
“No one does. But we have all the modern conveniences, well, most of them,” Lady Bell said, her tone light.
“In fact, you should really explore the rest of your hallway; you will find a couple of our historically preserved rooms, and if you are interested, the top balcony of the library houses Bell Manor archives. You are welcome to explore at your will.”
“Where do the staff stay? I know Anna said she was in a cottage, but you have quite a few people living up here,” Harper asked.
“We have a few staff cottages in the rear of the manor. You can’t see them now for the rain, but you will as it clears.
But we do still have some residences on the third floor.
They are on the south side of the manor.
Nigel lives in what was originally the Valet’s Cottage on the grounds, I am on the second floor with you, to the left.
If you need either of us, don’t hesitate,” Lady Bell said through a mouthful.
“Can I ask why you keep show rooms? If you don’t take visitors or public tours?” Harper asked cautiously.
“Sentimentality mostly,” Nigel answered. “It is important to remember the past, and to be frank, there are quite enough rooms in Bell Manor that we can afford to keep a few just for their looks.” He winked at Lady Bell, who nodded in agreement.
“That’s the truth,” she said. “Plus, we have occasional visitors who get a kick out of staying in the historically preserved suites. They’re British, so I expect discomfort is a state of mind.” She returned Nigel’s wink, who chuckled softly.
“I had heard that you have British visitors in the village. If I’m prying too much, please tell me to shut up, but who are they?” Harper asked as she scooped the last of the salad onto her fork.
“You aren’t prying, nor do you need to shut up, but that is a bigger conversation for a time when we have a gin and a fireplace,” Lady Bell answered mysteriously.
She wiped her mouth delicately and called across the space to Kaitlyn, who was mixing something in a bowl with a whisk. “Excellent as always, my dear.”
“Just wait for dinner,” Kaitlyn answered without looking up. “This was nothing.”
“Cannot wait,” Lady Bell answered and stood. She looked to Harper and Nigel. “I need to do a bit of work and will be in my office. But, Harper dear, please explore a bit, you are welcome anywhere and everywhere. Nigel, can you help me with some things?”
Nigel stood. “Of course. Harper, during the day I’m all about, but Kaitlyn generally knows where to find me if you need anything.”
As Harper made her way back to her room, her head was swimming.
The manor was an anachronistic mixture of old and new, antique and modern convenience.
Lady Bell herself was an unlikely combination of authority and comfort, and Nigel, for his formality, had a fatherly air that tugged at something deep in Harper that had been dormant for a very long time.
Outside, rain was starting to fall in sheets, and the wind outside the windows whipped the trees back and forth, the storm picking up steam faster than predicted.
She had hours before she was due down for dinner.
Harper decided to start with her study and go from there.
The study was perhaps even more impressive than her bedroom.
A large, wooden desk faced another stone fireplace, and a chandelier hung from the ceiling casting an amber glow.
Another picture window faced out to the south side of the manor, where Harper could see the entryway.
A large-screen television lined the other wall, with a couch and ottoman sitting ready.
A small glass-front refrigerator sat against the wall.
Harper could see bottles of water, white wine, and sodas lining the shelves.
On a discreet countertop was a small sink, a coffeemaker, an espresso machine, and a rack with bottles of red wine.
Harper breathed out slowly. This was the nicest office she had ever even had the opportunity to borrow, and she planned on making the best of it.
She pulled her laptop and the few files she’d brought and set everything up on the desk. She checked her phone. A text from Akiel:
Kyle is back safe—samples are at the lab—we’ll be in touch. Storm due to break by Monday—check NOAA for updates
Harper put the phone back in her pocket.
It needed no response. Even if she’d stayed in the village, there was nothing to be done.
She was overcome with a sudden sense of intense déjà vu.
Her head filled with a pressure that wasn’t painful exactly, but it caught her off balance and she sat down hard in the leather office chair.
Harper closed her eyes, and behind the lids she could see this room nearly as it was today.
The same stone fireplace, a large, wooden desk, the picture window looking out over the entry.
It was the same room, but also different, the vision was faded, muted, the modern touches gone, a stone-carved chess set sat ready to play on a round table in the corner, the air smelled faintly of pipe tobacco.
Harper felt herself spinning back, and she gripped the arms of the desk chair tightly as she felt herself losing consciousness.
A sensation broke her freefall—a silky-soft touch wrapped itself around and across her neck, and rested behind her head, keeping Harper from falling backward in the chair.
It was long and thin, like a finger, like a tentacle.
Harper snapped awake; the dizziness and the mysterious touch instantly vanished.
I must be more tired than I thought, Harper said silently to herself.
Or losing my mind … Harper shook it off and rose from the chair.
What did it matter, she thought with a sense of resignation, if she was losing her mind, what a place to lose it.