Day 15: 22 November 2025

Short Story -- Monkshood Manor: Part 4

 The next morning, after a breakfast of granola, yoghurt and fresh fruit, along with some pensive mulling of the previous night’s letter, Teddy made her way to the main entrance.

It really was an impressive space, with its black and white chess board of tiles, dark wood panelling and tapestries, impressive mahogany staircase, and enormous crystal chandelier.

Walking closer to one of the tapestries to examine it, Teddy noticed it seemed to be of a hunt with a pack of ferocious looking dogs barking at an enraged boar. The hunters on horseback weren’t far behind, one with a horn leading the charge. There was a house in the background… and it resembled Monkshood Manor. Although it was small enough that Teddy couldn’t be sure.

‘Whenever you’re ready, Miss,’ Mr Drey’s basso voice rang again the silence.

‘How does he do that?’ Teddy wondered silently. Aloud she said, ‘Ready when you are.’

‘Up the grand staircase,’ Mr Drey said, ‘You can find 40 bedrooms, including several suites. As such, we will begin here on the ground floor.’

He gestured to the door on their right and Teddy walked in. It housed a billiards table. Several taxidermied animals’ heads bedecked the far wall. In spite of there being windows on two sides, the dark paneling made the room feel small. ‘This room is generally used for any gentlemen to retire to after dinner. They may smoke, play billiards, have a drink and discuss whatever they wish without offending gentler ears.’ The room did smell strongly of cigars now that Mr Drey mentioned it.

Next stop on the tour, across the hall, was the drawing room, which Teddy had already explored some. It had been here that she’d found the letter. ‘Being here reminds me,’ Teddy started, ‘I need to make a call to Mr Edgar Archibald Reed. He’s a solicitor, I gather and the one who handled my great aunt’s affairs. Do you happen to have the number?’ Of course, her great aunt had left her the number, including a card in the letter, but she was curious what Mr Drey would say.

‘I can find it after this tour for you and leave it by the phone in the study if that is convenient for you,’ he suggested.

Very professional and not surprising.

The next stop was the library. It wasn’t an overly large room. There was still a fireplace, of course. And three of the four walls housed floor to ceiling book shelves. A large ladder attached to a rail was parked along one shelf. Teddy skimmed the titles as she walked around the room. There was a good collection of first editions along with some more modern novels and quite a few things in between. ‘Of course, this room’s claim to fame is that fact that someone was murdered here two generations ago,’ Mr Drey shared.

Teddy wasn’t sure if he was trying to scare her or shock her or was genuinely just sharing a piece of the house’s history. He seemed to love the house and to take his job quite seriously, but he hadn’t appeared, at least to Teddy, to have entirely warmed to her yet.

‘You don’t say,’ Teddy said. ‘Who was it? Was the murderer caught? Is there a ghost?’

Mr Drey stared at her. ‘A visiting countess. Rumoured to be having an affair with the then current lord of the manor. There had been a large fancy dress ball. No one was ever arrested for the crime.’ He paused. ‘As for a ghost? All old homes have their secrets.’

Interesting answer. Teddy filled that away to think on later. Could a ghost be the reason she had felt watched the other night in the dining room? Or who Mr Drey had been talking to in the kitchen when she couldn’t hear any responses? Could the housekeeper also be a ghost? Teddy shook her head. She was letting her imagination get away with her. There were no such things as ghosts, right?

Going through a side door disguised as bookshelves, they entered the study. A large sturdy desk occupied the centre of the room, with two large wingbacked armchairs near the fire. Over the mantle was a crest. The laurel of monkshood was there, like on the seal of the letter, but there was more: a baying hound and a sword. Turning back to the desk, Teddy noticed it looked tidy and organised, at least from the outside. She started trying drawers and noticed the top two were locked. ‘Do you know about the keys or shall I ask Mr Archibald?’ Teddy enquired of Mr Drey.

‘It will be best to ask him, I think, Miss,’ Mr Drey responded.

They skipped the dining room and kitchen, since ostensibly, Teddy had already been there. The next stop was a ballroom.

It had obviously been closed up and gone unused for quite some time as a thick layer of dust coated everything. But even in the mostly dark — the windows were shuttered and curtained — Teddy could tell how opulent and impressive it must have been in its time and when it was clean. She could see in her mind’s eye couples filling the floor, while mothers and aunts stood to a side matchmaking. She felt she could actually hear music. And there was a piano covered by a sheet, but pianos don’t play themselves. Teddy felt she must have just gotten swept away in her imagination.

There was also the Blue Room, the Green Room and the Lavender room. But those rooms had also clearly long gone unused: covered in sheets, dust and with shuttered windows.

Although understandable, it almost made Teddy sad. Rooms are meant to be used and lived in. She decided that she, herself, would tackle one room a day if she could. She had never been afraid of a little hard work. Even if they immediately went back to being shuttered and sheeted, at least they’d have been seen and lived for another day. She didn’t say any of this out loud for fear of Mr Drey saying that it shouldn’t be done. And yet, somehow it felt like the house breathed a contented sigh.

Having covered all of the main floor, Teddy and Mr Drey then headed upstairs. Long gallery hallways stretched out in both directions. Their walls displayed art, suits of armor, fireplaces and weapons.

‘Traditionally,’ Mr Drey started, ‘Family has stayed on the right, which is comprised of ten suites and ten rooms; and guests have stayed to the left, which also is made up of ten suites and ten rooms with en-suite bathrooms. The only room on this floor currently not shuttered up and covered in dust sheets is the one you are staying in. Although we can go through each room if you like. Some of them have quite notable history.’

‘Perhaps another day,’ Teddy acquiesced.

Mr Drey then walked her down to the very end of the hall on the right. He pointed out portraits of previous lords and ladies. And at the very end of the hall, hidden under wallpaper with a nearly indistinguishable handle, was a door. Opening it, Mr Drey gestured for Teddy to step through.

‘Is this where he murders me?’ Teddy wondered internally but walked through.

There was a staircase going up.

‘This leads to the nursery,’ explained Mr Drey, ‘And what would have been the children’s bedrooms when they were younger, along with a suite for a nanny.’ As they walked up the creaking stairs, he continued, ‘Half of the third floor was dedicated to the children and the other half to rooms for staff.’

The rooms up here looked abysmal: peeling wall paper and flaking paint, taps rusted shut, a graveyard of toys.

‘There’s no way to get from here to the servants’ quarters?’ Teddy noticed.

‘No, Miss. The staffs’ quarters are only accessible via the servants’ staircase, which is at the end of the hallway to the left.’

‘May I ask,’ Teddy ventured,’ Do you and the housekeeper live up there?’

‘No, Miss. We each have our own space off the kitchen.’

Realising she’d already taken up several hours of his day, Teddy said, ‘Perhaps we end the tour here. If you could give me a set of master keys to all the rooms, I can continue exploring in my own and in my own time.’

‘Of course, Miss,’ and Mr Drey pulled out a large iron key ring. He handed it to Teddy. ‘Will that be all, Miss?’

‘Yes, for now, thank you,’ Teddy replied the ring of keys weighing her hand down to her side.

Mr Drey made a curt bow and disappeared down the stairs. And Teddy stood in the desolate room… and a thought started forming in her brain.

She needed to talk to Mr Reed.

She needed answers.

Certainly, her great aunt being so elderly must have been confused.

And yet, as the idea tickled her brain, she could have sworn that the house felt hopeful.

‘Answers first,’ she told herself and made her way to the staircase.