She looked up at him, the blue of her eyes brought out by all the other blue tones in the room.
“I don’t know. I mean, I could sell it furnished or I could have an estate sale first. I suppose cleaning them would be good either way.”
“I thought you hadn’t decided what you were doing with the house.”
“I’m considering all possibilities here.” She put a finger over her lips. “I think I’d like to keep as much of the original as I can, you know? No matter what I decide. Come look at this.”
She showed him to another bedroom, again with a four-poster, and then a third with more modest furniture. An embroidered sampler was framed and hanging on the wall. She hadn’t managed to get that one cleaned yet and dust camouflaged the true character of the pieces, but he could see what she meant. It was rare to find such fine craftsmanship in furniture anymore. It had lasted because it was made to last.
The last bedroom had a smaller room joined to it, and there was no furniture inside at all. “It’s like a nursery,” she said, standing in the doorway. “A door from this hall but another door connecting it to that bedroom, too. Would a nanny or nurse have stayed in that room, do you think? Were the Fosters that rich?”
“Jed was,” Tom answered. “He was rolling in it. And Elijah probably was, too. Have you checked out the attic yet? I’m sure it had to have been servant’s quarters.”
She smiled sheepishly. “I’ve been too chicken. What if there are mice or bats or something?”
Tom laughed as they moved past the nursery. “Hate to tell you, but if you’ve got a rodent or bat problem up there, it’s going to be a problem down here.” He stopped in front of a plain door by the back hall—the only door left unopened. “Want me to go first?”
At her nod, he opened the door, revealing narrow steps leading the way up into the third floor. The hallway at the top of the stairs was dimly lit, but a window kept it from being pitch-black. Tom went carefully, but he was pleased to discover the top level was as sound as the rest of the house. The wood floors were dull and it was all rather plain and spartan, but he didn’t see any evidence of dry rot or bats. As for the mice, he was certain they were around. He’d recommend she get in the pest control man to take care of that, the sooner the better.
Taking in the layout, he saw that the top floor was made up of five smaller rooms and a cramped bathroom that everyone would share.
“Come on up,” he called. “Nothing’s going to get you.”
He heard her steps following behind and smelled the fresh scent of her shampoo as she came up behind him. “It’s so light up here!”
“More windows than you’d expect,” he replied. “I’d say this was definitely servant’s quarters. And probably where a lot of the girls stayed when Marian ran her home.”
“People keep mentioning Marian’s ‘work.’”
He nodded. “Yeah, she ran a place for girls in trouble. For a very long time. Think about it. Up here on the mountain it’s private, and she had the house all to herself. It was the perfect location.”
“But why? Why that particular kind of house?”
He lifted one shoulder. “Who knows? All I’ve heard is that it was all extremely confidential. Only person who might know more is Art Ellis. He worked here back then.”
“We’ve met. He’s charming.”
Tom laughed. “He’s a terrible flirt.”
“Don’t knock Art. He recommended you.”
He watched as Abby went from room to room, peering into the open doors at the contents inside. “Before or after you called me?” he asked.
She looked over at him, her face blank with innocence. “After. Does it matter?”
Tom was somehow glad she’d decided to ask him for a quote before talking to Art. She’d come to him on her own. “Not really,” he lied.
“What on earth am I going to do with all this space?” She spread her arms wide. She looked enchanting when she did that, like a little girl inside a toy shop, wondering what to play with first.
“It’s a lot of house for one person,” he confirmed.
She dropped her arms. “The heating bills alone must be astronomical.”
“It would have been colder up here in winter. Hotter in summer. Though the windows might have given a bit of a cross-draft for relief.” He forced himself back to business. “There’s not a lot of room above the ceiling, but we might be able to blow some extra insulation in there to make it more energy efficient.”
She looked up at him with a smile, scanning the open area in the middle that seemed to form a type of common area. “Look at this sofa and table. And games! There’s checkers and backgammon and decks of cards. Downstairs is so formal. This is the kind of place you could let your hair down and hang out with your girlfriends.”
“Would you want to fix it up, too?”