Kitty tilted her head. “Both things are dramatic if you do them right.”
Helen swept in from the hallway like a proud general leading reinforcements. “Girls! Perfect timing. We are restoring the reception room to its former glory.”
Kitty’s eyes sparkled. “Does it involve destruction? I have always wanted to wield a sledgehammer. Tell me I can have one?”
“Controlled destruction,” Helen said, gesturing at me, Braxton, and William. “The gentlemen are doing the heavy work.”
Kitty looked us over, her grin widening. She stopped in front of me, squinting in theatrical appraisal. “Why is it that no one has introduced us yet? You must be the infamous Mr. Dexter. Jane texted us that you and your friend had arrived.”
Perhaps the reason why no one had introduced us was because she didn’t stay quiet or still enough to do so, I wryly thought to myself.
“Dexter Fitzwilliam, but you may call me Dex,” I said, levering the crowbar under a panel. It had been years since I had done any demolition, but I still knew how.
Braxton came to the rescue with good manners, shaking the hand of each girl in turn. “Braxton Hale. I’m pleased to meet more of Lucy’s sisters.”
“Lucy talks about you all the time. She says you’re terrifyingly precise, allergic to fun, and possibly part machine,” Kitty said with relish as she eyed me.
Braxton laughed so hard he almost dropped his hammer. “That sounds accurate.”
Kitty leaned toward me conspiratorially. “Don’t worry. She also said that you have nice hair.”
I straightened, dusting my hands on my jeans. "That's the strangest compliment I have ever received.”
Kitty winked. “Get used to it. We’re Bennets and we say odd things.”
“That'strue,” William easily agreed.
I went back to the task at hand. How we had been roped into this madness, I didn’t really know. Yet I found myself peeling back a section of seventies panelling which came free with a groan and a puff of dust.
“Careful,” William warned, wedging the claw of his hammer around the edge of another section. “If we’re lucky, there’s good wood under here.”
“Or rats. It could go either way,” Meri said, unimpressed.
“Positive thinking, sweetheart. Perhaps there are old coins in the walls,” Helen chirped.
“More likely there are ghosts,” Meri muttered.
“Ghosts! We could have a haunted house! I’ve always wanted my own spirit tagging along after me, trying to get my attention by throwing books or moaning in the eaves,” Kitty enthused.
I tried not to roll my eyes and saw Meri rolling hers. For a moment, I decided she was a kindred spirit.
“He could fall in love with me and tell me poetry but I wouldn’t know because he’s a ghost and I couldn’t hear him. It would be so tragic!” Kitty continued in her world of makebelieve.
“Oh, that sounds so lovely,” Helen added, wiping a tear with her apron.
“Or unrealistic,” William faintly murmured.
I levered the crowbar under another panel and pried. The fake wood gave way with a crack, revealing a strip of molding beneath. I brushed away the dust, and my breath caught.
Beautiful, handcrafted wainscoting was revealed. It was tall, and still solid despite years of neglect. It was dirty and covered in cobwebs. The holes from the nails would need to be filled in. However, it was a find that would save the Bennet family time and money. Above it, faded floral wallpaper peeked through, delicate roses curling along the seams. For a moment, I almost believed in the Bennet dream.
“Well,” Braxton breathed beside me. “Would you look at that wallpaper?It’s not original but it’s quite nice.”
“It’s incredible. It looks like something out of an old movie,” Kitty said, crouching close.
Meri leaned in, careful not to touch anything. “A very dusty movie.”
Helen clasped her hands together. “I knew it! I told William there was treasure in these walls.”
