Page 28 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
“Gran? What’s going on?”
“Just wait. You’ll see.”
Her heart thudded as she passed the Corinthian pilasters and up the shallow marble steps—one, two, three—and through the glass-paned outer doors into a small tiled vestibule. The heavy wooden door, no doubt the original door designed to keep out intruders, was also propped open, leading into a black-and-white-tiled masterpiece of a grand entrance hall.
Her breath caught as she glanced around at loveliness, dark panelling, a huge fireplace, and gilt-framed paintings hanging alongside marble busts and priceless vases. It made Hooper’s Manor’s entryway seem very humble indeed. Everywhere she looked, she saw history etched into each object as much as what was painted on the walls beside the staircase.
“Oh my goodness.” She glanced at Gran and whispered, “Why are we here?”
Gran smiled. “It’s rather special, isn’t it?”
“Special is an understatement.” What looked like eighteenth-century paintings lined the staircase. “Is that—?”
“Original wall paintings by Sir James Thornhill, yes,” Gran said. “He painted the dome at St Paul’s Cathedral in London. To have them in a private house is quite a rarity. That particular one tells the story of Achilles.”
Achilles, the great Greek hero of the Trojan War, invulnerable except for his heel, which soon passed into folklore.
“It’s amazing.” And amazing how, now that she was older, she could appreciate the art and architecture so much more. “The whole room is stunning.”
“You can see why it is worth seeing.”
“Absolutely.” What a shame it wasn’t open to the public. Which reminded her. “Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?”
Gran smiled and pointed to the corner where two figures stood. Liam the gardener, dressed slightly less disreputably than before, and—“George? What are you doing here?”
Too late she remembered that George was Liam’s sister, and if he was the gardener, then maybe he had some special privileges that came with looking after the grounds. She nodded to him, surprised when his usual grim countenance twisted into an almost smile. Hmm. The man looked far more appealing when he made the effort to be pleasant.
She smiled graciously back, and he blinked and looked down, scuffing the tiled floor with his work boot. Right. Well, clearly he wasn’t fond of her smiling at him. Rejection hovered. She tamped it down. Refocused instead on her new friend. Who still hadn’t answered. “George?”
George chewed her lip and glanced at Gran, then at her brother.
Okay, this was weird.
Finally, as if by an effort, Liam the gardener spoke. “Perhaps it would be better if we took a tour of the house.”
“Yes! Great idea.” George beamed.
“Um, okay?” Liv glanced at Gran. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”
“Oh, I should have realized.” Liam frowned. “Forget that. We could talk—”
“No,” Gran interrupted. “You two should take her. I’ll be quite happy to stay here.”
“I don’t need a tour.”
“Yes, you do,” Gran insisted, pushing her gently towards the siblings. “And these two are the best to do that.”
“But I thought you were once a tour guide here.”
“Once upon a time. But I’m recovering from surgery, so a little spell off my feet is just the ticket.” She moved to a modern-looking green settee, and Liv helped her ease into it.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Very sure. Off you go.” She made a shooing motion, which Liv obeyed, joining the siblings at what looked like the entryway to another room.
“I’m sorry,” she said in an undertone, so her grandmother wouldn’t hear. “I still don’t really know why I’m here. I feel like Gran has barged into here and railroaded me into a tour I’m sure neither of you wish to undertake.”
“Ofcoursewe want to take you on a tour.” George looped her arm through Liv’s. “Don’t we, Liam?”
