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There was a wealth of unpleasantness in that one word, but Gretchen was determined not to let it bother her. “So the letters are from the Buchanan family’s archives? Is that correct?”
“I am not at liberty to discuss things,” Eldon said, his voice seeming to get even stiffer.
“Well, can I ask Mr. Buchanan about them? I—”
“Mr. Buchanan is busy. He is not going to be involved. Do not disturb him with your questions.”
“And that’s fine, but I just thought that since—”
“You are not to bother Mr. Buchanan!” He turned a baleful gaze upon her. “He is a very busy man and does not want to be disturbed. Your being on location does not mean he is at your disposal.”
Whoa, what had crawled up his ass? Had Buchanan said something to him? Gretchen raised her hands in a defensive posture. “I wasn’t suggesting that. I was just going to say—”
“If you are not interested in reviewing the project, Ms. Petty, I can let the publisher know that we are in need of another writer.”
“If you’d let me finish a sentence,” Gretchen snapped, “you would know that that is not what I’m saying at all. Just show me the damn letters.”
She half-expected him to snap back at her, but he only smiled.
“They are right this way,” Eldon said, gesturing. His voice was as cool as ice all over again, as if he didn’t have to try to be nice now that he’d gotten his way. “Please follow me.”
It was apparently time for a new plan. If she wanted to say hello—and apologize—to Mr. Buchanan, she’d have to see him when Eldon wasn’t around to glare at her. Maybe a late-night visit?
Nah, that’d probably just be weird. He’d think she was creeping on him.
They moved down a long hall decorated in seemingly old-fashioned gilt and blue furnishings. Gretchen made a mental note of this, because she’d be damned if she was going to ask Eldon to show her where the room was again. Too bad she hadn’t brought her phone, since a GPS would be needed for this enormous building. So she noted the surroundings. Blue sofa, old picture with ridiculously ornate frame, case full of Fabergé eggs along the hallway wall, more blue settees, a golden statue, and an old oil painting of the ugliest man she had ever seen (also dressed in blue), wearing a powdered wig.
Then, they turned into a sunlit hallway, and Eldon paused in front of a pair of wooden double doors.
The butler glanced back at Gretchen. “I don’t think I need to remind you to keep these doors shut at all times. The library has many old and priceless books, and the hall here is quite sunny and could age them.”
“Of course,” she murmured, resisting the urge to shove his hands off the doorknobs and sweep the doors open herself. For a moment, she felt like a kid at Christmas. The house had been spectacular so far. What would the library be like?
Eldon pushed the doors open and stepped aside, and Gretchen stepped in, looking around in wonder.
The room was large, though that had been expected. At least as long as a basketball court, the room was two stories, with a flat, painted ceiling of a bright blue mural of dancing Greek characters. The room itself was floor-to-ceiling rosewood, shiny and gleaming. Row upon row of neatly ordered books lined the walls, and there were a pair of curling staircases on the end of each side of the room. Wrought-iron railings lined the second floor, and dotted amongst the endless rows of books were objets d’art. A small piano was delicately situate
d in the far end of the room near a few more dainty settees, a portrait hung off a decorative easel in another corner. A massive Victorian globe held a place of honor near the large fireplace.
It was a room of wonder and imagination. Gretchen was utterly delighted at the sight of it. Holy crap. I get to work in here for the next month? But she kept her cool and asked, “So this is where I’ll be working?”
“Indeed.” Eldon sniffed. “I should like to remind you that nothing is to be removed from the library—”
“Of course.”
“And please do not touch anything you do not feel you need for your project. Some of these items are quite valuable—”
“Of course.”
“And then I must remind you—”
“Not to open the doors and let the sunlight in because the books will turn to dust. Right.” He’d told her that not five minutes ago. She wasn’t likely to forget. “Do you want to warn me not to feed Mogwai after midnight?”
He stared at her.
“Never mind. Eighties joke.” Gretchen put her hands on her hips, trying not to show her excitement. She couldn’t wait to explore this place, but that wouldn’t happen with Eldon hovering. She needed to act like this was no big deal, and as soon as his back was turned, then she could do all the leisurely exploring she wanted. Time to seem bored.
Gretchen feigned a yawn. “So where are the letters?”
