Page 8 of Once Upon a Midnight Dreary
She hadn’t realized he, too, was peering out the window watching as they approached the estate.He sat back, a smile plastered on his face as the footman opened the door and waited.Her uncle motioned toward the door to let her out first.
Hesitation pounded through her as she peered out the open carriage door.
No, she could do this.Shewoulddo this.
Picking up her reticule, she stepped out onto the gravel drive and moved aside to wait for her uncle.He followed her, pausing next to her, as the two of them gazed up at the house together.Her heart rammed against her chest.So hard it felt as though her ribs vibrated.
“Are you certain about this, dear?”he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.
She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry.All she could do was nod.
He sucked in a deep breath, expelled it.“Very well, then.”
Her uncle stepped toward the door and lifted his hand to knock when it cracked open.The hinges groaned with the effort as it slowly swung wide.A man stepped through the threshold into the gloom, his obsidian eyes landing on her with a curious glint—yet sharp and assessing.He already knew who she was and why she was there.
He was tall, dressed in a dark gray coat clinging to his broad shoulders, the fabric dulled by time and wear.His hair was black as crow feathers, curling slightly at the collar and around his ears, touched with a silver streak at the temples.
Angular features hosted high cheekbones, a straight, thin nose, and thin lips carved into a permanent grimace.And though he had the silver streaks at his temples, he had no wrinkles to speak of and looked as young as Victoria herself.
There was something unearthly about him.Not in the way of ghosts, but of someone who had once been alive and had not quite finished the job.
His head inclined as he looked at her with those black eyes, his gaze unreadable.
“You must be the new mistress,” he said.His voice was low and smooth.Silky.Like chocolate.“You’re earlier than expected.”
He moved aside and motioned for them to come inside.Not a very welcome invitation, for she sensed his cold stiffness.Victoria, clutching her reticule in her gloved hands, took her first step through the threshold and into the grand foyer of the manor house.Her uncle followed, keeping close behind her as the man closed the door with another groan of hinges.It plunged the foyer into shadowy darkness.
She had never thought to be here again, yet the moment she stepped inside, it was as if time stood still.Everything was exactly how she remembered it.Impossibly unchanged.
The marble flooring, veined with silver and onyx, stretched beneath her feet.The grand staircase curved upward in a sweeping arch, the balustrade carved with floral vines.To the right, the old grandfather clock stood in its alcove, its slow tick echoing through the silence.Above her, the chandelier with its crystals that once shone brightly were now smudged by dust.
Beyond that, she caught a glimpse of the parlor, where the baby grand piano still sat in dignified silence.The instrument’s lacquered black curve was reflected in the gilded mirrored walls, though the mirror’s surface had aged.They were now dulled and veined with hairline cracks like a spider’s web of memory.Dust shimmered in the slanted afternoon light from the windows on the opposite of the room.
It smelled faintly of lavender with a hint of stale air and something like old paper and extinguished candle smoke.
And it was hers.
The man stood to the side, eyeing her and her uncle as though waiting for her to speak.
“And you are?”She spoke in a weak and tremulous whisper, and then immediately cursed herself for sounding so frail.
“Gabriel Allward, miss.The caretaker of this estate.”He gave her a half-bow, as though it was expected but he didn’t mean it.
Her uncle stepped around her and offered his hand.“And I’m Hubert Pembroke, her uncle on her mother’s side.”
Gabriel’s black eyes drifted to him, giving him a cool once-over.With some reluctance, he took his hand and shook it once, then released him.
“Good of you to travel with her.Will you be staying the night?”He sounded a bit agitated at the thought her uncle would, in fact, be staying.
“I—” he began.
“It’s far too late for you to return, uncle.I’m sure we can find a guest bedroom for you.”Her gaze slid to Gabriel.“Can’t we?”
He gave a thin-lipped smile of annoyance.“Of course, miss.”Then to her uncle, “Your horse can be stabled and cared for until the morning when you make your return journey.”
But her uncle’s brows had drawn together.His eyes were lit with suspicions.“Where is the rest of the staff?”
“I’m afraid there hasn’t been staff here in many years, sir.I’m the only one.”
