Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,3
garden, following a small flagstone path that led to a charming, two-story carriage house. It was designed in the same style as Harte's Desire, although on a smaller, but still generous, scale. Peeking inside one of the ground floor windows, Libby discerned three horse-drawn carriages and an old sleigh amid several empty horse stalls. The interior seemed well preserved, but like everything else she’d seen so far, neglected and shabby.
She strolled along the flagstone path back up to the main house and approached the large double doors of the main entry. Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath, rang the bell, and waited.
The doors opened slowly, creaking on hinges desperately needing to be oiled. An elderly woman with a welcoming smile spread across her pleasant face stood before her, looking at Libby inquisitively.
"Hi, I'm Elizabeth Reed," Libby explained. "Mr. Darnell is expecting me for a meeting this morning and I apologize for being here a bit earlier. I was hoping to look around Harte's Desire before I met with him."
"Yes, Miss Reed, we're expecting you. I'm Edwina McElroy, Mr. Darnell's secretary. Please, come in." She was openly friendly and ushered Libby into the great entrance hall.
"Look around all you want. We've had lots of curiosity seekers through here since Mr. D. bought it. Everybody wants a gander at this place. You said on the phone the other day that you're with the historical society?" Libby could see by Mrs. McElroy's skeptical appraisal that the woman was having a hard time picturing Libby, who was in her late twenties, as an avid and active member.
"Yes," Libby replied, "I'm here to ask a favor of Mr. Darnell. If he's not ready to see me yet, would it be possible for you to show me the mansion?"
"Well, Mr D.'s upstairs right now, and I'd love to give you the grand tour, but I've got a proposal that he says has to get in the mail today. He moved his offices here, temporarily you know, while he gets this project underway. So feel free to look around all you want. I'll be in the butler's panty--my 'new' office--if you need me."
With a smile, she turned and headed down the hall.
Libby gazed around the entrance foyer, awed by its enormous size and sheer magnificence. A massive semi-circular staircase wound gracefully from the first floor to the upper stories. A finely-crafted stained glass window hung at a landing midway up the staircase, throwing kaleidoscopic patterns of colored light onto the floor and walls.
She wandered through most of the rooms on the first floor--the kitchen, several drawing rooms, the dining room which had been converted into an office, the grand ballroom, and the library. Libby was delighted to find that, like the outside of the mansion, the interior and its furnishings were remarkably intact, having survived the past hundred and some years with surprisingly little change. But everything was in desperate need of restoration.
The spacious main drawing room was the most remarkable and it instantly captured her attention. Everything in it was covered with roses. Wallpaper, upholstery, paintings, hand-decorated porcelains--every surface imaginable had roses on it.
The room, done in a bold green and pink cabbage rose wallpaper, immediately enveloped her in a sense of comfort and belonging. It was filled with over-stuffed Rococo Revival style sofas and chairs placed into several well-composed groupings. Before the fireplace sat an ottoman, covered in the same rose-motif Brussels carpeting that lay over the floor. Nearby was a lounge, upholstered in burgundy horsehair and topped with an array of odd-shaped pillows adorned with needlepoint roses. What-not shelves were filled with pots, fans, and pictures, and a table next to the lounge was delightfully cluttered with a family album, a cigar box veneered with sea shell rosettes, and an arrangement of dried flowers under glass that included an abundance of roses.
Libby carefully picked her way through the crowded room to more closely examine the huge fireplace dominating the far wall. She hesitated slightly before running her hands gently over its marble mantle, letting her fingers revel in the fine craftsmanship of its intricately carved flowers and leaves. Softly, she traced the delicate roses and miniature buds interspersed with finely wrought tendrils of ivy. As the focal point of the room, the elaborate mantelpiece was especially spectacular, Libby decided, and the rose and ivy motif was unusual for the time period.
The carvings were wonderfully cold to the touch, despite the warmth of the beautiful May day outside. "Carrera," she whispered, noting the