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

placing his hand on the knocker held within a brass gargoyle’s jaws. Quickly, as though he might be bitten for impudence, Mr. Crum banged on the entrance.
    Four solid raps echoed somewhere deep within the manor. Mr. Crum stepped back as the thick wood eased inward in slow motion. The door opened, revealing a statuesque butler standing at the fore of a marble-floored foyer. Tabitha noticed that his sideburns were meticulously trimmed and his eyes were brown and steady. A deeply clefted chin and a slight, involuntary lip twitch saved his face from being ordinary. He wore a black uniform with dark brown dress shoes.
    â€œGood evening. Do come in.” He bowed, showing a bald spot on top of an otherwise-thick head of black hair streaked with a few bits of silver.
    Mr. Crum straightened his jacket and peered around the man. “Yes, well. Who the devil are you? Where’s the Countess?”
    â€œ I am Phillips. The butler. The Countess of Windermere does not answer her own doors, sir. Welcome to Hollingsworth Hall.”
    A rush of icy air blasted the crowd, which scurried in without further hesitation. A hush fell over the guests as they soaked in their first view of Hollingsworth Hall’s interior.
    On the foyer walls hung two portraits, one on each side, both of older gentlemen. Each oil painting was displayed under black curtains, pulled back with gilded ropes, and each portrayed a man sitting in an armchair, holding a large pocket watch. The men’s faces were such that the eyes seemed to follow Tabitha across the open room. She watched them watching her, wondering if the paintings had been silent witnesses to any wandering spirits.
    Dim lighting came from a massive, low-hanging chandelier. Most likely it was secure, but Tabitha stepped out of its path nonetheless. Not one, but three suits of armor stood guard, looking out of place but ensuring the utmost sense of occasion. There seemed to be only one significant thing missing from the scene, Tabitha thought. One significant person missing, rather, she corrected herself.
    â€œWhere is she?” Barnaby asked. “Where’s the Countess? Ow , Mother, you don’t have to— ow! ” Barnaby rubbed his ear and glared at Tabitha as though she’d done the tugging.
    Clearing his throat, Phillips took in the group with a single gaze and double lip twitch. “Her Ladyship is delayed in her rooms and will join us for dinner. I’m to take you to the parlor for light refreshments. Parents, you may settle yourselves from the journey while the children are shown to their rooms. Once they return, I’m to give you a brief tour of the property.” He bowed again. “Agnes will take your coats and see that the children’s things are deposited in the correct rooms.” He clapped twice, like you might do when summoning a dog. “Ag nes !”
    A cowering maid appeared, quickly disappearing under the load of thick dress jackets and coats piled upon her. Mrs. Wellington had worn a mink, which looked to weigh more than two stone.
    â€œI say, Phibbits,” Mr. Trundle said, “before we refresh ourselves with anything, what are we all doing here? We demand to know.” He dug in his pocket and produced a shilling, holding it out to the butler. “Out with it, now, like a good chap.”
    Phillips studied the coin as though it were a piece of tummy lint. “Oh my, that is most unnecessary. Put it away, please, sir. And it’s not my place to say why you’ve been summoned.”
    â€œSo you know, then?” Frances asked.
    â€œWe demand to know as well,” Mrs. Crum said. She slapped a hallway table for emphasis, rattling a Grecian mask. “First the hostess doesn’t show up to greet us, and now the butler is flaunting knowledge that we don’t have. I’ve never been so insulted in my life.”
    Mrs. Trundle clucked her tongue. “Perhaps not to your face, dear.”
    Frances whined