“I appreciate that. I left them in the sink. They’re drenched.” He chuckled and winked at her.
His light laugh sent shivers of pleasure down her spine. The wink confused her. Was he flirting? She led him out of the kitchen, past a utilitarian stairwell, and returned to the enormous foyer. “In here is the library.” She walked through an open a set of double doors and entered her favorite space in the house. Floor to ceiling shelves lined the walls. They were bursting with books roughly categorized into fiction and non-fiction. Ancient encyclopedias, reference books, textbooks, novels of every genre, self-help books. You name it; it was here. There was even a section dedicated to Canadian authors. She could probably open a bookstore.
Like the rest of the main floor, the flooring was gleaming oak covered with plush throw carpets. These ones were deep blue with tiny cream flowers while the common room was done up in browns and tans. The long runners in the foyer were a compromise containing shades from both rooms. The main floor walls that weren’t covered in wainscoting were painted a warm cream. Many held original paintings, some by her aunt, others by unfamiliar artists she intended to research when she had time.
“Help yourself to anything. If you’re not finished a book when it’s time to check out, you can take it with you. Well, except the antiques. If you do take one let me know which you’re taking, in case I want to replace it.”
“And if I finish something, while I’m here, can I leave it behind?”
“Absolutely. How do you think my great aunt built this massive collection? I inherited it along with the inn.” Grief washed over her. She hadn’t been close to her aunt and regretted not having the opportunity to get to know her. “She mentioned building the library in her diary.” Like researching the painters, delving deeper into her aunt’s massive pile of diaries was something for another day. She was thrilled to be able to get to know Aunt Tilly through her writing.
“She did a great job building this collection. You must be pleased to carry on her legacy. I’m sorry for your loss.” He squeezed her hand in a compassionate caress. It should have been overly bold and invasive, instead, it was comforting.
“I barely knew her. I think I met her once when I was young. Before my mother passed. I have a vague memory of my aunt and this house. It was different then from when I arrived.”
“How so?”
“I think she was losing her mind. Maybe dementia.” Oh, how she wished she’d known, she might have been able to get her great aunt to seek help, or she could have moved here earlier and taken care of her. Regret was an ugly, uncomfortable ball in her stomach and chest.
“She was old, almost ninety-five and my mother’s aunt. When I arrived, this place was a disaster. Every room filled with junk. It took me ages to sort through it all. Strangely, the kitchen was spotless, as if she were expecting guests any day, though from what my cousins tell me, she’d shut down about five years earlier. I just had to spruce it up. And replace the tap,” she laughed, feeling easier now that the crisis was over. “Come spring, I’ll repaint the exterior.”
“Incredible. Trust me, you’d never know the interior was a mess. It’s immaculate and obviously well cared for. What’s in there?” He gestured toward the closed doors on the far wall of the library.
“The formal sitting room.” She gave him a quick tour, showing off the Victorian style furniture and enormous fireplace. She’d cleared away the knickknacks and replaced them with a couple battery powered candles. “I don’t come in here much. I find the other sitting room more comfortable.”
“This room is nice, but it’s missing something.”
“Exactly what I thought. I wasn’t allowed in here when I was a kid. I don’t understand that. I think kids need to learn respect and letting them access an area like this would help them do that.”
“You know what I noticed?”
“What?” she asked.
“If you open those doors, I assume they’re the other set I saw in the foyer, a kid could run circles through here. In one room and out the other. Kitchen, dining, common, library, fancy sitting. A huge loop. It would be a blast.”
“It would.” The observation surprised her. “I wish I’d noticed that. I probably would have given it a test run before you arrived.” Oh, the joy a child would have racing the loop and sliding down the polished bannisters on the front stairwell. The back stairwell only had a basic wood railing attached to the wall. It was probably meant for staff when this was a home and not an inn.
He opened the doors to the foyer and grinned at her. “Race ya,” he declared and took off through the doors.
“What?” she shouted, chasing him.
Laughing like mad fools, they raced around the house, making the loop three times before dropping with exhaustion onto the formal furniture. She giggled and struggled to still her ragged breathing. “That’s what this room needs, laughter. That was so much fun.” They sat on sofas opposite of each other chuckling.
