Read Online Nooks & Crannies by Jessica Lawson - Free Book Online Page B

velvet bow. “Don’t be silly, sweetheart. Please continue, Mr. Phillips.”
    While Tabitha tucked away the fantasy of having her own hair smoothed in a similar manner, she remembered to watch Phillips for his reaction to the word ghost .
    To her surprise, the butler did not smile. Not a whit. Instead his lips turned inward and pressed together in what was either a grimace in regard to the question or a grimace in regard to the ghosts themselves. “I regret to inform you that rumors of ghostly occurrences in the Hall are not an approved tour subject. Nor is the reason that you’ve been invited. That you’ll have to wait for.”
    While Phillips summarized the library’s contents and the parents listened with thinly disguised impatience, Tabitha’s eyes drifted to the view outside, which had taken a turn toward the ominous. An outdoor gas lamp must have been secured close to the windows, because Tabitha could see sleet pouring down. Bare, twisted branches of wisteria whipped back and forth in the wind, tapping against the glass with insistence. The center window was marked by three panes of diamond-shaped colored glass, reminding Tabitha of the three small windows she’d seen at the manor’s highest point. That gable also had a chimney atop it.
    Never hold back when the opportunity arises to address an oddity, Tibbs, Pensive had said in the very book Tabitha had brought in her carpetbag. Unless it’s concerning a woman’s choice of hat, of course. By God, never address that sort of oddity.
    â€œWhat about the other chimneys?” she heard herself blurt out. “You said there were seven fireplaces, but there are ten chimney stacks.”
    Phillips stood on his tiptoes to locate the speaker. “Observant, aren’t you?” he said, not phrasing it as a compliment. “Three of the fireplaces are in the locked rooms.”
    â€œ Locked rooms,” Edward said, elbowing Viola.
    â€œLocked rooms!” Frances repeated, stepping closer to Oliver.
    â€œ Locked rooms ,” Tabitha murmured, nudging Pemberley to make sure he had heard.
    â€œLocked rooms,” Phillips affirmed.
    â€œWhat locked rooms?” Barnaby asked.
    â€œThe ones that have just been mentioned,” Phillips said. “There are several rooms in the manor that the Countess keeps locked. They are not needed and are no longer in use and are not meant to be disturbed.”
    Mrs. Crum licked her lips and tapped Phillips. “And what exactly is in these locked rooms?”
    Phillips wrinkled his nose at the touch and straightened his posture once again. “I wouldn’t know, madam. They’re locked , you see, which indicates that one cannot get inside. Her Ladyship has mentioned that one of the doors leads to the third floor, which is her son’s former nursery, but that’s the extent of my knowledge, I assure you.”
    Tabitha raised her hand, only to have it yanked down again by her father.
    â€œStop speaking, you twit,” Mr. Crum quietly ordered.
    But Tabitha couldn’t halt questions from forming in her mind. Were the rooms all of sentimental value? Did servants enter them to clean off the dust now and then?
    â€œAnd now for the gallery . . .”
    Phillips’s voice faded with the group while Tabitha dawdled in the library, her eyes petting the beautifully stained shelves. “See, Pemberley,” she whispered, tucking a finger into her pocket. “That’s two solid mysteries. What is in the locked rooms and what is the truth behind the ghost rumors mentioned by a maid and not refuted by Phillips. Oh, and why have we been invited, bringing us to a trio of mysteries.”
    Squeak!
    â€œYes, quite right, duly noted: And we still need a crime.”
    Squeakity-squeak.
    Tabitha smiled. “Yes, other than Frances Wellington swiping hotel pens.”
    Footsteps clipped across the marble floor. Agnes, the maid who’d taken