I meet his eyes in the rearview mirror, steeling my voice before saying, “Okay.”
Without another word, he slips out of the car. He rounds it to open the door for me and gestures toward the front door before driving out of The Estate.
My coat doesn’t warm me as it usually does. Goose bumps rise along my arms, no matter how hard I rub them.
I look up, fully expecting to see the silhouette still looming in the window, but it’s gone.
He’s gone.
I’m nowhere near calm, though, freaking out over the fact that I have to meet him now.
“You’ve got this, Elowyn,” I whisper to myself.
On unsteady feet, I step forward. Like everything around here, the arched door of blackened oak towers above me. Its surface is covered in ornate woodwork that catches the faint porch light.
I lift a trembling hand to knock when the door yanks open, forcing a gasp out of me.
“Miss Montgomery.” A brittle man in a black suit stands in the doorway, his voice as bland as the driver’s. He has thinning silver hair, pale hazel eyes, and he’s no more than an inch taller than me. “We’ve been expecting you.”
We? Does he mean the figure I caught in the window, the one who’s not here?
I’d ask, but I don’t want to offend him by implying he’s nowhere near as broad.
“Are you…?” Hating how timid I sound, I clear my throat. “The Restorer?”
“No. I’m Herbert Rowe. Miss Holt—Mary—and I make up The Restorer’s household staff, aside from the groundskeeper and his team. However, they don’t live on the premises. They’re not here to meet you, unfortunately.”
“It’s okay.”
“Forgive my manners.” In one smooth motion, he steps aside. “Please, come in.”
My lips purse as I size him up. As professional as he is, I decide I don’t trust him.
After the figure in the window shook me the way it did, and with no sign of my host, I don’t trust anyone. Not until I talk to The Restorer myself and understand exactly who he is and what he has planned for me.
“Thank you,” I murmur eventually, then walk past him.
As I move deeper inside, I split my attention between him and the house, taking it in as I go. The walls, ceilings, and floors are all the same slate-colored stone. Despite the scale of the place and its high ceilings, it’s warm in here.
To my right, there’s a long mahogany console table, antique and expensive-looking. Above it hangs a massive, empty, gilded frame.
As I venture deeper, I notice sconces lining almost every wall, even the ones far from where I stand. They cast a dim, warm amber light that feels…ominous.
“If you will.” Since I’ve been keeping an eye out, I’m not surprised when Herbert appears in front of me, gesturing for my coat. “I’ll hold on to this for you.”
Though the polite thing would be to accept his offer, I shake my head. This isn’t my home. I’m not a guest either, at least not for now. I’m a visitor, one who might need to make a break for it if things get too weird.
“Is The Restorer here?” I ask, not making a move to shrug off my coat.
“He’s here, yes.” His expression is as stony as everything around this place. “He’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”
My heart gives a loud thump. The word he chose,tomorrow, is vague, adding to how creepy this whole situation is. Whenever my boss at the cleaning company wanted to see me, she’d set a time for us to meet. A date.
“Before you turn in, I’ll be guiding you to the sitting room,” Herbert’s continues. “I’m under orders to take you there so you won’t go to bed on an empty stomach. Thirty minutes, then I’ll show you to your room. Okay?”
It doesn’t feel like I have a choice. Then again, it can’t be that bad, can it? It’s just a short stop before I go to bed. There’s nothing sinister about a midnight snack.
“All right,” I mutter.
