The large, circular, ground-floor room sat empty, except for a stately piano off to the side. The large windows provided a great view of the grounds out front and to the west.
“Imagine a masked ball being held here.” Images of a Jane Austen event went through my mind, and I started a mental list of the perfect pastries for the banquet.
Mellie let go of my hand and skipped over to the piano. Joel and Eli beat her to it. They got bored pounding on it and raced to the door leading into the west wing where the guest rooms would be. Three floors of them. Even so, I doubted the place was so big I’d worry about getting lost in it.
“Come on, Mellie.” I waved for her to come with us. “Don’t give me that look. You can play with the piano once we check out the rooms.”
“Fine.” She put down the fallboard with great care. I already knew where she'd want to spend a lot of time.
“Question for you, sweetie.” I took her hand. “Who was it that Phoebe said you should follow?” I hated feeding the invisible friend thing, but I didn’t want to doubly upset Mellie.
“That old man.”
“Mr. Montgomery?”
“No. The old-time man in the cape.” She let go of my hand and skipped into the hallway where the twins were already running back toward us.
“You heard Mom,” Ezra shouted from the other end. He pointed to the row of doors along one side of the hallway. “We have to check each of the rooms. Time to work.”
The old-time man in a cape?I reminded myself that those words had come from a seven-year-old who had given her invisible friend the same name as her dead sister.
I followed them into the hallway and stopped. While one wall held the doors for the guest rooms, the other side of the hallway held a bank of windows. A garden filled the inside of the castle’s “U.” This must have been what Coop had been talking about. A formal flower garden. I glanced over my shoulder at the circular staircase and back at my sister.
“Mellie, you want to come with me or the boys?”
“The boys.” She ran after the twins, who had opened one of the bedroom doors.
“Ez, you got her? I want to go upstairs.”
“I’ll watch her. Make sure you have your phone for Mom’s notes.”
I patted my pocket to check before heading up the stairs. The open door to the second floor tower room showed a library. Through the hallway windows I could make out a pattern to the garden that hadn’t been visible on the main floor.
As I entered the room I felt my first affinity for the cousin, whatever times removed, who had last owned the castle. The cozy room must have been his favorite place because, where the hall had been almost austere, curving bookcases, paintings, and windows filled the library’s round walls.
I couldn’t remember a fireplace downstairs, but the one in here formed the centerpiece of the room. I ran my hand over the beautiful mantelpiece, sliding my fingers along the offset design of its carved stones. A work of art.
Above it hung a really old-looking painting. From the clothing on the man and two children, I guessed it must have been in the early 1800s. Were they ancestors, to have such a prominent place in the room? I stepped closer, drawn to the little girl in the picture. Her curls refused to be tamed, and the painter had captured a mischievous gleam in her eyes that made me wonder what she saw off screen. Her expression reminded me of Mellie.
I shifted my attention to the rest of the people, settling on the man dressed in a familiar red British uniform but wearing a cape made of the blue in the British flag. Was he the little girl’s father?
Out of nowhere, with powerful feelings like in a dream, came an image of him wandering the halls of this castle. Sad and alone, he called for someone, but no one came.
“Did you lose them and then have to live in this house all by yourself?” I whispered, caught up in a sense of loss so strong it brought sudden tears. “So much emptiness. Did it echo around you, trying to swallow you up?”
My hair swirled around with a breezy, softyeeesssss, and the hair on my arms stood up. Shocked, I held my breath and searched the room. For a second I thought I could see the man in the portrait standing by a bookcase. I blinked and he was gone.
I took a deep breath, resisting the urge to run screaming from the room. I must not give rein to the overactive imagination of my childhood. With my back held rigid, I forced my feet to walk at a normal pace to the door, just like I used to do as a little kid after staying up too late to watch a scary movie.
Pausing in the doorway, I glanced back. Had I really seen a .... No.
Outside of the room now, the weird feeling seemed to dissipate, and I felt stupid. Just what I needed, my own imaginary friend. Chuckling a little at the lame notion, I shook off the strange experience and stepped into the hallway to check out the garden.
And what a garden. I couldn’t make up my mind if the delicate balance between the formal, manicured beds and the lazy, flowing garden path was intentional.
I pressed my forehead against the glass near the stairs. Washington’s cool weather wouldn’t make for the kinds of huge flowers Sacramento’s heat produced. This only being June, the flowers were probably just coming in. I was pretty sure the garden would look amazing by August.
Heavy footsteps pounded up the circular stairs and Coop burst through, right into me. With anooph, I would have gone flying, but his hands shot out and caught me by the shoulders, keeping me on my feet.
