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said. "The days can be warm in late spring and summer, but the nights are cool. Come along now," she beckoned to me.
I hadn't moved from the entryway, but now the time had come to move forward and meet Foxworth Hall.
All the lights were dimmed, the candles burned low. I walked slowly, like a somnambulist lost in a dream, through the long entryway with its high ceiling The walls were peppered with oil portraits of people I assumed were ancestors who had preceded me in Foxworth Hall. As I walked down the hall I gazed at them, one by one. The men looked austere, cold, haughty. So did the women. Their faces were pinched tight, their eyes saddened by some trouble. I looked in each of the portraits for some hint of Malcolm, some resemblance in the faces. Some of the men had his light hair and straight nose, and some of the women, especially the older ones, had his intense expression.
At the end of the front foyer, large enough to be used as a ballroom, I came to a pair of elegant staircases that wound up like ruffles on a queen's sleeves. The curving staircases met at a balcony on the second floor, and from there became a single staircase that rose another flight. The three giant crystal chandeliers hung from a gilt carved ceiling some forty feet above the floor and the floor was made of intricate mosaic tiles. The magnificence took my breath away. How drab and gawky I felt in this elegant room.
As Mrs. Steiner led me forward, I gazed at the marble busts, the crystal lamps, the antique tapestries that only the extremely wealthy could afford. Lucas hurried past us, lugging one of my trunks. I paused at the foot of the stairs, my mind numbed in a trance. I was to be the mistress of this magnificent mansion! Then Malcolm was beside me, laying a hand on my shoulder.
"Well, do you approve?" he asked
"It's like a palace," I said.
"Yes," Malcolm said. "The seat of my empire. I expect you will manage it well," he added. He pulled off his gloves and looked about. "That's the library there," he said, gesturing to my right. I looked through the open doorway and caught a glimpse of walls lined with richly carved mahogany bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes. "I have something of an office in the rear, where you can work on our accounts. The main hallways above," he said, turning my attention back to the staircases, "join at the rotunda. Our bedrooms are in the southern wing, with its warmer exposure. There are fourteen rooms of various sizes in the northern wing--plenty of room for guests."
"Yes. I believe that."
"But I tend to agree with Benjamin Franklin, who said fish and guests tend to smell after three days. Please keep that in mind."
I started to laugh, but I saw that he was serious.
"Come, you're tired. You can explore and explore tomorrow. I suspect you might find one of my older relatives still living in one of the rooms in the north wing."
"You don't mean that?"
"Of course not, but there was a time when that might have been possible. My father was often carefree about such things. Mrs. Steiner," he said, indicating she should continue leading me upstairs.
"This, way, Mrs. Foxworth," she said, and I began to ascend the staircase on the right, running my hand over the rosewood balustrade as I walked up. Lucas came down the left staircase quickly to retrieve my remaining baggage. Malcolm walked beside me, just a step or two behind.
We reached the top of the stairs, and when we made the turn to the south wing, I confronted a suit of armor on a pedestal and I really felt I had entered a castle.
The southern wing was softly lit. Shadows draped the hallway like giant cobwebs. The first door on the right was closed. From the size of the door, however, I imagined the room was a large one. Malcolm must have caught my interest.
"The trophy room," he muttered, "my room," he added with a definite emphasis on "my," "in which I keep artifacts I have collected during my travels and hunts."
I was immediately curious about that room. Surely