Because it is our home.Even if we cannot enjoy it together.
I have kept my bedroom blocked off of the museum spaces for you, whether or not you take the position.You can stay here for as long as you want.
I cannot force you to remain, of course; the trust can carry on if you refuse.But knowing you might one day be lady of the house will have to be enough to get me through the rest of my lonely life, however long it may be.
I love you, curious one.I hope your life will be as happy as you have made mine.
Leo
September 8, 1897
Postscript: Check under our bed for a surprise.And the hallway of Indian portraits at Osborne House for another.I’ll be going to the unveiling there next month.
I’mglad I sent everyone away, because I can’t stop crying.The tears I forced back earlier, too busy yelling at Heather and trying to find out what happened with Leo, fall freely now.
I don’t think about all the history he changed—his stately manor being the first to open to the public on a large scale, his bet and sudden fortune, his not getting married.
I just think about how much I wish I was still in 1895.
One thing’s for sure: nothing can stop me from taking this job.
CHAPTER40
One Month Later
“Have we ordered the new magnets for the gift shop?”I ask.
“Done,” my hyper-efficient assistant, Mary, says as she consults her tablet.
“Which new scones are we going with for the tearoom?”
“We’re divided about fifty-fifty on that.We’ll need you to break the tie.”
How difficult my job is.But someone has to do it.“And did the curator from Longleat House let us know about the items for loan?”
“They are signing the contract for the exhibition as we speak.”
“Excellent.”Then they’re not too mad we took their title of first stately house in England to open to the public on a commercial scale.Not that theyknowwe stole that particular title.But I think they can sense it, and that’s why they made negotiations for my “Indians in the English Country House” exhibit items slow and painful.“Thank you for your hard work, Mary.Why don’t you take the afternoon off and get started on your weekend early?”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll be here if anything comes up.You enjoy.”I never thought I would be this happy to live at my job.Especially since Leo made sure the trust has been updating the house, but especially my room in particular, with all the modern amenities, including a modern, en-suite bathroom, recessed lighting, and Wi-Fi.And a very expensive heating/cooling system.Someone even added a TV and a small kitchen in the room next to me, as well as a washer and dryer.
But no one has been allowed to touch the furniture he picked for me, except to clean it and preserve it.
After Mary leaves my office, I pack up my large tote and head for my room.I may still work, but I can do it in a historic, four-poster bed, under an embroidered floral, silk canopy.Surrounded by, I hope, the ghost of Leo.I don’t know, since he hasn’t made himself known to me, but I like to pretend that he’s still here.I certainly talk to empty rooms like he’s here.
I take the long way around, passing through the rooms that are open to the public on my commute home for the day.I like hearing the responses of the people visiting, too.Some in awe, and some so mad that this much wealth was able to be accumulated at one time while so many go hungry.I get both reactions.
Then there are some who were dragged by their more history-minded traveling companions and have very little interest in my house, as I’ve come to see it.That, I understand less.
But none of them have ever been as vocal as the commotion I hear when I’m passing through the library.
“You can’t sit in the chairs, sir.”The guide’s voice sounds panicked, loud and with a hint of a shake to it, and I pick up speed to follow the direction of the sound, ending up in the sitting room.
“Do not tell me what I can and cannot do in my own home.I shall sit wherever I damn well please.”The voice that responds is British.Posh.And familiar.
“You don’t live here.No one lives here, except Dr.Chopra.It’s a museum.Are you a period actor no one told me about?”
