Nooks & Crannies by Jessica Lawson Read Free Book Online Page A

Frances told him, stomping up the short steps and into the double-benched space.
    â€œSettle in, everyone,” the lead driver called over the activity. “It may be a bit of a bumpy ride.” He turned his face to the darkening sky, where white and gray clouds billowed and grumbled overhead. “We’ve got a few hours to drive, and the world looks fit to send something unsightly our way at any moment.”

The very rich and those who long to be so, Tibbs, are often odd birds, who only dirty their cages when others aren’t looking. Astonishingly foul, the habits some people keep secret.
    â€”Inspector Percival Pensive,
    The Case of the Interrupted Ingenue
    T he Countess’s property was thirty minutes at a fast clip from the last home they’d spotted, its isolation adding to the splendor of Hollingsworth Hall. Indeed, Tabitha’s mouth hung agape as the carriages drove between two low stone walls, crossed a bridged stream, and finally came into view of the group’s destination. It was a confident structure that had no tilting or looming about it, unlike Tabitha’s future residence, Augustus Home. And it most certainly was not full of orphans.
    No less than ten chimneys dotted the estate like top lookouts, and three small diamond-shaped windows perched closely together near the very top of the Hall. I would deduce, Pemberley, Tabitha said silently, that even the attic space in Hollingsworth Hall is certain to be true cozy quarters.
    â€œHo! It’s a country palace,” said Edward.
    It wasn’t quite a palace, Tabitha decided, but it was still the most impressive home she had ever seen. She let her eyes follow the gables and sloping roofs downward, her gaze slipping and sweeping around the different angles of the manor. Lit by tall, glass-sheltered gas lamps, the lower half of Hollingsworth Hall was a somewhat unsettling study of shadows, with manicured trees and bushes queued up as though standing guard.
    The horses came to an abrupt halt, jolting the children so that they were torn from their seats and flung together like trapped trout. It was a lumbering process, waiting for the adults to arrive behind them and then waiting while the children’s bags and trunks were unloaded in the harsh weather. Though the rain that had pitter-pattered, then pelted the carriages during the drive had stopped, the ground was wet and boggy, sucking at feet as though hoping to keep anyone from ever leaving the estate. When nobody opened the large set of front doors, the group huddled together in a heap, not quite sure what to do next.
    â€œWhat do you think we’re doing here?” Mr. Dale asked Tabitha’s father.
    â€œStanding in the cold, aren’t we,” Mr. Crum replied. He sniffed. “If you’re talking about why we were all invited, Dale, I don’t know, and if I did, I don’t believe I’d tell you.”
    Mr. Dale looked baffled. “Oh.”
    â€œWe haven’t a clue either,” Mr. Appleby said, stomping his feet and stepping around his wife to block the wind from her. “Does anyone else?”
    Murmurs of “no” and various speculations whirled into the wind and disappeared as they waited. The temperature had dropped several degrees since leaving the hotel and a cold, foreboding scent like frost and frigid things filled the outdoors, as though winter was arriving early and had chosen to make its first appearance at the Countess’s home. Tabitha watched her father. Mr. Crum had a short fuse when it came to patience and shallow reserves when it came to politeness, so it seemed fitting that he was the one to finally shove the group apart.
    â€œI suppose I’ll see to the door,” he said, “if there aren’t any servants about.” He grumbled about someone not knowing standards of decency if they were slapped in the face with them, but as he approached the wide set of carved wooden doors, he shied a bit at