“The walls look solid,” he said, knocking his knuckles against them as he walked into the foyer. “Good proportions in this entryway. Well-lighted landing. Nice.”
“You can see why Emily fell in love with it,” I said to Wade, marveling at the stunning lacework of the wrought-iron staircase. The ironwork was topped by a wooden handrail that I could imagine shining after being burnished to a high gloss. The newel post at the foot of the stairs with its lovingly carved appliqués required only a coat of varnish to shine again.
An intricate vine-and-leaf motif added interest to the otherwise simple cornice. In the middle of the ceiling was an elaborate fleur-de-lis medallion, or ceiling rose, as the Victorians called the round plaster moldings that often served as a base for a chandelier.
The archway leading to the living room was embellished on either side by stylish plaster corbels, adding formality to the space.
“It’s a beautiful home,” Wade said.
“I think so,” Emily said dreamily, “or it will be, with a few improvements.”
He took a closer look at the corbels, reached up, and scratched the surface of each one. “This one here is disintegrating. We’ll use the other one to make a mold.”
“Will that be difficult?” Emily asked, a frown line marring her forehead.
Wade grinned. “No.”
As I took a step inside the living room, Wade grabbed my arm. “What the hell was that?”
“What was what?” I asked.
“Didn’t you hear it?” He whipped around in every direction, looking for something. “It sounded like a sick cat.”
“What’re you talking about?” I started to laugh but noticed Emily staring up at the living room chandelier, which was swaying slightly.
“Did we just have an earthquake?” I wondered.
“I felt something,” she said.
I studied her face. “You do realize there’s supposed to be a ghost living here, right?”
“You’re not the first one to mention it.” She wore a worried expression as she glanced around.
I gulped. I never would’ve believed it if I hadn’t seen the crying woman all those years ago. But my memory had faded enough that I was willing to believe that she had been an elaborate trick. Now, seeing Wade’s reaction to some strange noise no one else heard, I didn’t know what to think. “It couldn’t hurt to say nice things about her house. Maybe she’ll leave us alone.”
“I love her house—I mean, my house.” She raised her chin defiantly. “I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”
“So you believe in ghosts?” Wade asked.
“I’m Scottish. We practically invented the concept.”
Wade still looked a little flipped out, but since I hadn’t heard a thing, I moved on to the formal dining room.
Wade followed but stopped inside the doorway. “Wow, look at that fireplace. It’s stunning.” He crossed the room to study the arched marble mantelpiece, the ironwork of the screen, and the hearth with its intricate jade and marble tile pattern. The firebox space was almost big enough for Wade to stand inside. “This feels like the heart of the house.”
Emily beamed. “That’s exactly what I thought.” She wandered over to the far wall and pressed her hand against it. “It’s warm. It practically vibrates with life.”
“And look at this built-in breakfront,” I said, gazing at the wall opposite where Emily stood.
Wade turned and approached the cabinet that filled the wall to our left. “That’s a beauty. All that scrollwork.” He opened a few of the glass-paned cabinets to examine their inner workings. “This hardware looks like new. And the mirrored backings are in good shape.”
Emily joined us. “Don’t you love it?” She glided her hand along the smooth center surface, which was big enough to serve as a buffet space for a good-sized party. Glass-fronted cupboards on each side of the open space would hold an entire service for twenty or more, as well as stemware and various display pieces. The wood-paneled cabinets below would store other items. “I can picture my mother’s bone china displayed here.”
Given Emily’s skill in the kitchen, no wonder she considered the dining room one of the most important rooms in the house. I could see why she’d been so attracted to this property. She would be entertaining guests in grand style in this room.
Wade wandered to the far wall and checked the surface for weaknesses in the plaster. He looked over his shoulder at me. “This wall really is warm.”
“I told you,” Emily said, pressing her cheek against the surface.
I walked over and touched it. It was warm and I could feel a mild vibration. I wasn’t prepared to explain that, so I just grabbed Emily’s arm. “Let’s go check out the kitchen.”
“All righty.”