Page 63 of Release (Symbols of Love 3)

"Nope, we're all on the second floor, so it's just down this way." He says as we step off onto the landing. I look up and see that the stairs continue for what looks like four more floors.

He practically runs down the corridor. It's wide enough for ten people to stand side by side and from where I'm standing appears to run on forever.

"Okay, this is your apartment." He says with a flourish of his arms as if he's presenting the room to me. "Grandma and I were in here earlier just to check it out. She wanted to make sure you had enough pillows."

My heart gives a little pull at this small detail that my mother has never forgotten. I've been away from home for so long. I have so many things to work out with her, with my entire family. But this gesture tells me she’s still thinking about me. That she remembers all of the things I needed to fall asleep at night. It made me long for her, right now.

"This is the parlor," Anthony says, sweeping his arm in a graceful arc as he present the room to me. He pulls me through a huge sitting area and darts into a room that's opposite the entrance.

"And this is your bedroom. There are three bedrooms in this apartment.” He runs in and jumps on the huge canopy bed that's in the middle of this ornately decorated room. It's like stepping back into time. The bed clothes are sumptuous. Teal colored velvet drapes fall from the ten foot high canopy and hang elegantly down the four posters. On the king sized bed, there are more pillows than any one person could possibly need. The big fluffy squares of teals and light pinks, mustards and greys are beautiful and beckoning. I can’t wait to lay down.

The bed faced a huge bay window that’s draped in the same fabric that the bed is. I walk over and lose my breath at the view. Large expanses of rolling hills dotted with cottages, farm houses, and other structures whose purpose I can’t identify, run for as far as the eye can see. There are flocks of sheep grazing. But the real show stopper is right below my window. A beautiful winter garden sits on the lawn directly below me. A lime stone path along the edges of it defines it's octagonal shape. A bite of nostalgia hits me as I remember how much I loved the garden at our house in Maryland. That is one of the things I miss the most about not going home.

This garden is full of knobby trunked, conifers, yew trees, red tipped dogwoods and all look and ethereal with the dusting the last snow fall left.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

I scream and spin around and see Jan standing in the door of my room.

"You spook easily." She says with a laugh.

Anthony laughs from my bed. "She was afraid of the ghosts on the stairs, earlier Ms. Jan."

I turn and shoot him a scowl before I turn around to face Jan.

"Well, you sort of just appeared out of nowhere. I thought I was meeting you in the kitchen later."

If she heard the annoyance in my tone, she ignores me.

"Yes, well we're about to start getting lunch ready and I realized I'd forgotten to ask you if you had any allergies." She says with a kind smile that makes me feel ashamed for being so short with her.

"I'm sorry, Jan. I’m just so tired.” I apologize quickly, she nods in understanding and I answer her question. “I don't have any allergies, but I don't really like chicken breast or pork. And I don't eat beets, turnips or carrots."

"Well, we do accommodate for allergies, but not for picky eaters. Unless your abstinence of fowl and swine is due to a religious restriction, you'll be eating what we serve. And we don't waste food, neither.” She says, clasping her hands in front of her, smiling even though her voice is stern.

“Everything's delicious, cook is a master. Her restaurant is a favorite of the tourists and is one of the best in the country. You'll love whatever she makes. Lunch is at 1:30pm, see you then." And with a small smile that is in complete contradiction with the brisk orders she just gave, she turns and leaves.

"She's really funny about food." Anthony chirps from my bed.

"No kidding." I waggle my brows at him, "And you're really funny about ghosts, you blabber mouth." I leer at him, my fingers out to tickle him.

He shrieks as I jump on the bed and tickle him until his laughter is louder than the pounding of my heart and the screaming in my head.

Lunch was delicious and stress free. When Louis' mother announced that neither Freya or Harry would be joining us, my appetite had returned with gusto. This despite the fact that the offerings read like Jan told the cook it was the Universe's Shit on Lilly Day and they should make sure to take part in the festivities.

Seeded rolls burst with chicken, chopped carrots, almonds and coriander mayonnaise were served alongside ham sandwiches topped with beet salad and served on fresh baked ciabatta. I ate it because I was hungry and almost moaned when the delicious flavors hit my tongue. Jan would have a good laugh when I told her.

I got to meet Louis' parents. His mother was an elegant blond who hugged everyone and didn't seem the least bit frazzled by the talk of weddings and events. She laughed loudly and I was happy to see her lavish Cara with affection all afternoon. Their father was Harry's twin - if Harry had been thirty years older. He looked tired, but was also in very good spirits as he told us about the manor and his family's history.

The estate, had at one time, relied solely on the income from the rents paid by it's tenants and the d

owry that his great grandfather's American bride had brought to them in the early part of the twentieth century.

Today, it’s a multimillion dollar enterprise that the family runs. They have holiday cottages for sale and for rent. There’s a camp ground where people could park their RVs, and go what they call "glamping." Apparently, it’s all the rage, “The adventure of sleeping under the stars but none of the inconvenience,” his father had said.

The grounds boasted four restaurants, a brewery, various gift shops, a butchery, a garden center, the famed cheese maker, an apiary that Lady Carlisle - that was the family's name - managed herself. It was amazing. They were one of the few remaining landed families that had actually turned their estate into a profitable business.

"Harry came home after university and forced us to add all of the restaurants and scoured the region to make sure our shops, restaurants, our bakery, the hampers we sell at Christmas, are all stocked with local products. It's made us not just a tourist attraction, but a place where large parts of the county shop on a regular basis. Our London store front, which is run by a wonderful company, is booming. We’re adding tea service and creating a feel of Fortnum and Masons in London’s East End. And Lady Carlisle’s honey is exported all over the country. Harry brought a whole new colony of stingless bees from Ghana a few months ago The Queen and Duke of Edinburgh are partial to it." His stroked his wife’s hand as he nearly burst with pride while she preened under his touch. They leaned toward each other for a kiss and I decided that was my cue to look away.

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