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I know from the briefing we had at the office yesterday that the home was still nearing completion when funding ran out. The scaffolding on the porte cochère’s dormers where carved ornament was being finished still remains, though a good deal of it has collapsed in on itself. The right side of the esplanade had been cleared and graded, and excavation of the front fountain had begun but was never completed. Stone carvers were midway through work on the ornamentation of the exterior walls on the grand staircase, and carpentry and cabinetry were going to be among the final touches.
Even the work that was completed is likely in a bad state because of the unfinished roof that runs down the center of the estate. Without proper care and protection from the elements, everything will have sustained some amount of damage. Today, we’ll discover the extent of it.
The SUV pulls up through a break in the trees, and I see the house for the first time.
Like other famed Gilded Age mansions, this one was designed and modeled on the richly ornamented style of the French Renaissance. Many of the details have been adapted from famous early-16th-century chateaux, specifically the steeply pitched roof, limestone facade, symmetrical turrets on each of the four corners, and arched entryways and windows. In short, it looks like a castle that should be nestled on a European countryside.
My heart quickens as I lean closer and peer through the window. I ignore the debris and wreckage, the leftover scaffolding and pallets of forgotten stone and wood. I see the home for what it was intended to be and am nothing short of awestruck.
It’s magnificent.
We park and start to unload. Zach holds out his hand for me as I try to climb out of the back seat. It’s a chivalrous act that I don’t feel like turning down. I smile and thank him and try to ignore the fact that Professor Barclay has chosen this moment to look over at me.
He’s paused nearby while everyone else has started to convene in a clearing directly in front of the estate. I start to join them until his voice captures my attention.
“I’d like a moment.”
Oh,nowhe wants a word? He had all the time in the world to speak to me while we were in the SUV, but apparently now is better. Now is on his terms. How convenient.
Zach shoots me a sympathetic look. He knows I’m in trouble, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Even Mr. Banks walks off, leaving me in the clutches of his ogre of a partner.
Professor Barclay keeps a healthy distance, and I don’t look at him even as he says my name.
“Emelia.”
I bristle at his harsh tone. “Professor.”
“I should have you call me Mr. Barclay.”
He should, but he doesn’t.
He lets that statement linger between us as the group starts to head for the front of the estate, leaving us behind. Before, it would have been difficult for them to hear our quiet voices, but now there’s absolutely no chance our conversation will be overheard.
“Why have you come to work for my firm?”
I stare at the sprawling estate in front of me. Isn’t it obvious? “To help restore the Belle Haven Estate. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
Why does that suddenly feel like a lie?
“Look at me.”
My gaze sweeps to him instantly. My body is such a traitor where he’s concerned.
“The mistakes of the past…” He sniffs and looks away as if disgusted by himself. “They will not be repeated.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek.
“Furthermore, outbursts like that one in the car will not be tolerated.”
“You goaded me,” I blurt out rudely.
Like a whip, his gaze lashes me. “You don’t know the meaning of goad.”
The threat ripples through me, obvious in the cascade of goose bumps that spread down my body.
Professor Barclay watches me, and he knows. Hemustknow.
His jaw tenses, and then he’s moving, heading past me toward the house, leaving me behind. “Keep your distance.”
