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“Probably Richard Morris Hunt.”
“The article said it was supposed to be the ‘crown jewel’ ofallthe Vanderbilt estates, even outshining the Biltmore.”
“How did they just now find it?”
“That’s the thing!” she continues excitedly. “No one knew about it because it’s sitting on private property and apparently all the trees are really dense and overgrown, not to mention the house is positioned on the land in a way that hides it from the street.The Timeseven speculated that Alvawantedit that way—secrecy and all that. You remember how damn competitive those Vanderbilt women were. One would build a Fifth Avenue mansion and then another would build one bigger a few yards down. Jesus. I can’t remember who they said purchased it—”
“Probably the Belle Haven Preservation Society. And if they couldn’t afford it outright, they likely brought in the state of Connecticut tourism department. Just look at the Gilded Age mansions in Rhode Island—those things are cash cows now. Connecticut would have seized the opportunity.”
“Yes, you’re right. I remember that now, and they said it was purchased for an undisclosed amount before it could go up for auction. Can youimaginewhat it would have sold for?” She shakes her head in disbelief. “And now, of course, they’ll—”
“Restore it,” I say, cutting her off.
She beams. “Exactly. How cool is that?! Talk about a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You need to go read the article. It’s a big day in your conservation world.”
I’m practically salivating. My heart, a thing I’d long suspected to be cold and unfeeling, starts to race. “Who do you think will do it?”
Her smile drops and she levels me with anAre you dense?stare. “Who else? I’d bet a million dollars Banks and Barclay lands the contract.”
I sit back, my excitement already starting to drain.
“Of course. Right.”
There’s no one else better.
