“Another few minutes and you’ll be able to see the house,” said Uncle Christopher, sitting up straighter in his seat.
I peered out the backseat window. A light mist rolled around our car as if searching for a way to get in. No house in sight! Not that you could see much with twilight setting in. We must have been traveling for hours, and I was exhausted.
Cornelia didn’t even bother to look up; she huffed and continued texting away on her new, rose gold iPhone.
When the house finally came into view, I had to admit that Uncle Christopher was right to get so excited. The “house,” as he called it, was not just a house—it was a massive, centuries-old structure called Redstone Manor.
As we drove through the gargantuan iron gates and up the grand sweeping driveway lined with old spruces and ancient oak trees, Uncle Christopher chattered on in his irritating nasal voice. “Redstone Manor was built over three hundred years ago, and it has been in my boss’s family ever since.” He puffed out his chest, as if he had something to do with it.
The manor house was an enormous structure, made up of high walls and towering turrets. It looked more like a miniature castle than a house. Emerald green ivy and flowering creepers of dusky rose climbed the red stone walls, and massive arched windows embellished with decorative paneling lined the sprawling house. It was absolutely enchanting.
“Welcome to Redstone Manor,” said my uncle.
As we drove up to the massive front porch supported by great stone pillars, I was more than excited. I had never been inside a real English manor house before, and I was looking forward to exploring the property.
A thin, stern-looking lady with spectacles and a severe white bun stood at the top of the steps to greet us. She introduced herself as the housekeeper, Mrs. Crowley.
Standing to her right was a portly man, smartly dressed, with his shoes polished to perfection. He was Mr. Morsley, the butler. “Welcome to Redstone Manor, Mr. Darlington.”
“Yes, yes, glad to be here,” said Christopher, puffing out his chest again. He was obviously feeling very important right about now. He cleared his throat. “When will I be able to meet Lord Oblek?”
“His Lordship was delayed. He will meet with you tomorrow when he returns,” said Mr. Morsely.
“Follow me and I will show you to your rooms.” Mrs. Crowley’s tone was crisp, and she reminded me a little of Ms. Holden. “The footmen will take your luggage. I will have some food sent up. You must be tired from your long journey.”
My uncle and aunt nodded and beamed as if they were being shown into Buckingham Palace as we followed the housekeeper up the broad stone steps and into the massive house.
The great arched oak doors opened into a massive foyer with a grand staircase that led to the upper floors. An ornate crystal chandelier glittered from the high-beamed ceiling, lighting up the polished walnut floors. Beautifully carved statues and huge paintings lined the walls of the mahogany-paneled corridors, and I gaped at my surroundings as I tried to take it all in.
I fiddled with my medallion and followed Mrs. Crowley. I couldn’t understand what we were doing here. The butler referred to the owner of this house as His Lordship. Was he an earl? A duke?
The housekeeper showed us to our rooms and left me to unpack and freshen up. Cornelia and I had a whole suite of rooms: two bedrooms and a large, comfortable living room beautifully decorated with wallpaper of dusky pink blossoms curling over a pale cream background. The vast arched windows were ornamented with scalloped curtains in a sumptuous forest green and lined with burnished gold tassels.
I wandered around the room and sat on the edge of my bed. I wished for the thousandth time that my life were different, that somehow my adoptive parents hadn’t died in the car crash. I even wondered occasionally what my life would have been like if my birth parents hadn’t given me up. But it was no use wondering; it was not going to bring anybody back.
I had already decided that I was going to make the most of this place and I wasn’t going to let my cousin’s presence spoil my experience here. I liked history, and being in a house this old made me very curious to explore its secrets.
There was a tray laid out in the living room with dainty cucumber sandwiches and small savory puff pastries. I popped a few in my mouth and went in for a relaxing bath.
Even though I was exhausted from traveling most of the day, I wouldn’t be able to sleep without reading for a while. I was quite sure that a house of this size must have a library where I could look for a good book. After I had my bath and changed into my pajamas, I put on my pink, fleece dressing gown and resolved to look for it.
I walked quickly down the long corridors of the massive manor, occasionally passing white-capped maids in uniform shuffling busily out of rooms, arms laden with linens or clothes. After many dead ends and locked doors, I finally stopped one of the maids and asked for directions. I was pointed toward another, darker wing of the house.
It was eerie in the east wing, and cobwebs hung in the corners of the shadowy corridors. I tried a few doors and found myself in various stuffy rooms with white dust covers that obscured the furniture. This part of the house looked like it hadn’t been lived in for a long time, and the rooms smelled musty and unused.
I had nearly given up my search when I noticed a big oak door at the far end of the corridor. Moonlight streamed in through the windows, illuminating the corridor ahead with a spectral white sheen. I pushed the heavy door open slightly and peered inside.
Finally! The library. Now if only I could find a
