They entered the bustling thoroughfare and soon came upon a massive stone wall which enclosed the grounds around the most breathtaking mansion Annabelle had ever seen. Passage was gained through a lodge stationed at its entrance.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Her fingers itched to sketch the place and the surrounding gardens. "Oh Aunt Augusta! It's beautiful!"

Lady Cantrell appeared quite unaffected by Annabelle's exclamation. She however, tried to see it through her niece's eyes. "Yes, I... suppose it is."

It amazed Annabelle that her Aunt could become immune to such beauty. The carriage had come to a halt, and the footmen approached helping them from the carriage and unloading Annabelle's few belongings.

Her Aunt gave quick and precise instructions, which were carried out with expediency. Annabelle marveled, as the interior was even more lavish than the exterior. Perhaps the most impressive part was the grand staircase that dominated the center of the house. It rose nearly three stories into the great balconied hall.

Annabelle did not know where to look first. She turned and twirled around the room as if on a potter's wheel. "Annabelle? Annabelle?" she heard her Aunt's voice and was brought out of her magical trance.

"This is Ms. Pratt. She will be taking care of you while you are here. She will take you to your room and should you need anything you can just ring for her. I have an appointment so I shall be detained for a while but shall we have afternoon tea in the garden?"

"Oh yes, please Aunt. That would be wonderful."

"Very well then. Ms. Pratt?"

"Yes, Marm."

"See to it that my niece is shown to her rooms and settled."

The elderly maid curtsied. "Yes, Marm."

"Follow me, Miss," Ms. Pratt said and Annabelle fell into step behind the woman.

"How long have you been here Ms. Pratt?" Annabelle asked, always curious, she could not stand to walk in silence.

"I've been in service for over twenty years, Miss."

"Then you knew my Uncle Jacob."

"Yes, Miss."

"I wish I knew him better. My memories of him are so vague. Mother and Aunt Augusta seldom visited one another. My sister and I were certainly never here but Aunt Augusta had come once or twice to our home but my memory of Uncle Jacob is that he never seemed very pleased to be there."

Annabelle waited a moment or two but it would seem Ms. Pratt was not one to prattle. Annabelle giggled quietly to herself at her own inside joke, but made a mental note that unless specifically asked Ms. Pratt is not the volunteering kind when it comes to information. She supposed that was a good quality in a servant but made for very boring conversations.

They walked for what seemed like forever. The staircase may look grand but not very practical when you just wanted to rest from a long journey.

"Your rooms, Miss." Ms. Pratt said opening the door.

Rooms? It was like looking at your own personal flat, only within a house. There was an outer sitting room. Cream-colored wallpaper adorned with beautiful pink roses covered the walls. Glided cherry wood furnishings and plump cushioned chairs completed the scene. Then there were the massive doors, which Ms. Pratt opened that led to the bedroom.

Annabelle looked around with wide-eyed wonder. She did not exactly grow up poor but this was more opulence than any girl could imagine except for perhaps Queen Charlotte's daughters, of which the Queen had quite a few.

"Will you be needing anything before I go, Miss?"

Lost again in her thoughts, it took Annabelle a second to register the question. "No, thank you Ms. Pratt. I think I would just like to rest a moment before tea."

"As you wish, Miss. Should you change your mind, just pull on this." Ms. Pratt showed her a velvet pull rope beside the bed. "It will ring a bell in the servant's area and I will be alerted that you are in need of something."

"Thank you again, Ms. Pratt." The woman curtsied and left the rooms.

The moment Ms. Pratt left the room Annabelle ran and very unladylike, belly flopped onto the bed; it was so soft she sank into it. She rolled over onto her back and admired the plasterwork on the ceiling. It made the most interesting rose pattern.

"Well Annabelle, this should be quite an adventure." She knew she should be resting but she was too excited.

She rolled back to her stomach and spotted her trunks. They looked positively shabby in their new home. When Annabelle opened them, she was surprised to see they were already emptied of all her clothes.

She looked around and spotted a ornately carved wardrobe and figured the servants must have already hung up her things. This was a bonus, as she now did not have to dig for her art supplies. They sat waiting for her at the bottom of her trunk. Obviously, the servants did not know where to house such treasures.

She pulled them out and laid them across the floor. She had her graphite and charcoals, her paints and brushes, her sketchbook and small canvases. She would have preferred to bring her larger canvases with her but they would not fit in such a small trunk. She wondered if her Aunt would allow her to buy some in the city.

She looked at the paint set Clara had given her as a going away gift and the new chalk pastels that Juliana had given her as well. They must have cost Juliana a pretty penny; it was a truly a generous and touching act. Feeling rather homesick she paged through her sketchbook until she came upon her portrait sketches.

There staring back at her was Juliana's loving gaze. She was so much more than a governess. She could love her no more than if Juliana were her very own sister, and Juliana had been the only mother figure she had known. Sister? She paged through until she came across Clara's sketch. Clara was sitting in a wingback chair in Father's library her nose stuck in a book. She sat like that for hours obviously absorbed in whatever new thing she had chosen to learn, which allowed Annabelle to capture her perfectly, in every detail.

She closed the book and hugged it briefly to her chest. "I miss you both so much."

"No, Annabelle there is no time for glumping around," she admonished, "you have work to do." She grabbed her supplies and headed for the gardens.

Back in the drawing room Lady Cantrell thought of what she intended to do. She had much to settle with her attorney. There was a knock on the door and her butler stepped in.

"A Mr. Harris and a Mr. Kane to see you, Marm."

"Send them in," Lady Cantrell said and rose to greet them.

"Ah, Lady Cantrell. It has been some time now since I've seen you. Where have you been hiding?" Mr. Leopold Harris, wore a bright smile, his young companion stood behind him looking rather serious and waited for a proper introduction to be made.

Lady Cantrell smiled at her long term friend, "Leo, you know very well I have not been hiding anywhere but collecting my niece from the country. She is to be presented this year."

"Ah, yes! Well, if she takes after her Aunt, even in the smallest fraction, she will most definitely be the beauty of the age. When will we meet her?"

"Perhaps at tea. Right now, I believe we have some business to attend to," Lady Cantrell reproached but not too harshly. "And of course there is the introduction of this young man who is so pensively standing behind you."

"Who?" Mr. Harris looked back to where Cyril Kane was standing. "Oh, you mean this suit of armor? Yes, every so many months I'm told he comes to life. Still can't say I've seen it personally," he whispers conspiratorially behind his palm to Lady Cantrell.

Cyril took this as about as good an introduction as he was going to receive. "Cyril Kane, Lady Cantrell. A pleasure to meet you." He bowed deeply.

"Good Lad, he is. He hopes to leave me though and soon I think. Has grand aspirations to become a Barrister to practice some "REAL law" as he would put it," Mr. Harris sat down in the proffered chair Lady Cantrell motioned to and pulled out his notebook and writing implements.

"Have a seat Mr. Kane," Lady Cantrell said, ushering him to another chair. "It is good to be young and ambitious. I am certain you shall succeed in your endeavors if only to free yourself from Mr. Harris."

Mr. Harris looked up shocked. "My! Lady Cantrell, was that a joke?" he asked chuckling. "Best watch out Mr. Kane, it would seem Lady Cantrell is in rare form today."

Cyril could not believe the frankness with which Mr. Harris spoke with Lady Cantrell. He knew they must be long standing friends to have such openness.

"Tut-tut, Leo. You paint a rather grim picture of me. What would you have young Mr. Kane here think?"

"This is true Lady Cantrell, but the stories I could tell I did not think you would wish me to repeat," Mr. Harris' smile was down right devilish. And to Cyril's astonishment he could see a flush of color flood into her Ladyship's cheeks.

She gave a small cough to cover what could be mistaken as laughter. "No, we mustn't discuss that but surely I have not become completely droll."

"Oh, that Lady Cantrell could be never said of you," Mr. Harris said with a sudden sincerity. "So what business of yours bring us here today?"

"I wish to discuss my will."

A look of concern clouded Mr. Harris' features. "You are not unwell I hope?"

"So serious, Leo. No, I am not. I am at the peak of health. I just wish to settle some things. My first priority of course is a dowry for both my nieces to be settled on them upon their marriage. I believe ten thousand each should do. And then I wish them to inherit what is left of my estate upon my death.

"Everything?" Mr. Harris asked as he took notes. "Yes, I may end up selling this house and purchasing something more manageable in a few years but whatever I have is theirs. They are the only true family I have left and I want to see that they are taken care of."

"As you wish. I can have the documents written and ready for signing in a about a week.

"I knew I could count on you, Mr. Harris. Will you both join us for tea?"

"It would be our pleasure. Why don't you go on ahead Kane and I will work out some of the finer details with Lady Cantrell and we'll meet you in the garden."

Cyril thought it an odd request but figured they must have things to discuss that they did not want him present for. So out of respect he stood, bowed and took his leave.

The house was massive. Cyril could see the sense in Lady Cantrell wishing to sell it for something more manageable. He felt a bit turned around but when he found a passing servant they directed him to where Lady Cantrell usually took her afternoon tea.

He opened the glass door that lead out to a courtyard and the view of what he beheld stunned him, "Beautiful, simply beautiful."

Annabelle turned to the stranger not quite knowing what to say.