The Heir to Evercrest Hall by Andrea M. Theobald

Author:Andrea M. Theobald [Theobald, Andrea M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC027110 FIC027170 FIC027050 FIC027000
Publisher: Hartwood Publishing
Published: 2019-03-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Eight o’clock, I was in the servant hall, waiting for Millie. Ten minutes later, still no sign of the head maid. Taking the initiative to seek her out, I set off along the passages we had traipsed over yesterday. First stop was the laundry. A few of the maids looked up at me as I walked in, but seeing there was no Millie, I gladly left the furnace behind. I thought, seeing that I was in the workplace dutifully on time, there was no reason I couldn’t have a snoop about the place. If I was caught out, I could always fathom up an excuse, such as, “I got lost.”

I took leave from the servant wing, and not taking the turn into the gallery, as Millie and I had done yesterday, I entered the foyer. From there the large stairwell spiraled gently upward toward a ceiling with a magnificent display of heaven. In great painted detail were pale-colored virgins being hauled sky-bound by cherubs, up to where toga-wearing men languorously reclined on puffs of clouds. Obviously, the painting indicated to the observer that the only divine beings who were allowed to ascend heaven-bound were the family and their equals. Of course, being a lowly servant, I was not allowed to venture over the threshold step and up the grand winding climb, for guarding the entry were two armored knights, standing vigil with swords, as if only through them, one could be granted access.

Toward the front of the house, was a set of extremely high double doors. One of these was slightly ajar. Unable to restrain my curiosity, I pushed the door slightly open, and with my heart pounding furiously, I tiptoed into a massive chamber—the great hall. The first thing that caught my eyes was the menacing medieval weaponry hanging about the walls. There were shields, bows and arrows, swords, all manner of device capable of putting one into an early grave; certainly, these were objects that must have been used countless times by a Davenport ancestor.

My gaze was drawn upward to the vaulted ceiling. Suspended from a large cross beam, within the center of the space was an enormous black iron chandelier. Not out of place was the large chimney piece, halfway along the hall, awaiting the strike of a flint. The white marble surrounds of the fireplace were completely antagonistic to the heavenly scene above the stairwell. There were monsters and serpents, and upside-down naked bodies being tugged down to the eternal fire of hell, into the fireplace that was big enough to roast a cow. Hastily, feeling spooked by my surroundings, I exited the chamber back through the doors I had entered, making sure to put the door back into its original ajar position. This time I entered the gallery.

To take a stroll slowly down the gallery was like entering into the historic lives of the Davenports. In between the narrow floor-to-ceiling windows were faces of predecessors on massive-sized paintings. No description was ignored in the

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