Chapter 125: RICHARD
"About damn time" I gruffed, extending my hands backwards so the butler would rid me of my coat.
For people who almost went broke, the Blakes maintained opulence. At least more than most. Not in grandeur or anything, because this was nothing compared to the Ramsey Estate or the Wellington Estate, it was mediocre in fact compared to my residence at Tall Springs.
No wonder it was called the Blake Mansion, not an estate because they lacked grounds. Which was really fucked up because the late owner had been into real estate.
But then again, the building from the gothic moss-grown façade, it must’ve been a family heritage. Something passed from one generation to the next.
Standing in the entrance hall that felt cramped compared to those I was used to, was a sweeping staircase with intricately carved balusters, polished to a high shine. They might not be big on opulence and grandeur, but they maintained hygiene.
The walls were adorned with a few gold-painted frames consisting of a collection of artwork. Not too sparse to indicate lack and yet not really enough to suggest magnificence. Which led me to believe the gossip column that wrote of the dowager auctioning most of their artworks to pay off some of her late husband’s debt.
Tapestries and ornate mirrors, completed the adornment of the walls. The floor was of polished dark blue marble, complemented by plush area rugs in rich, jewel-toned colors.
Lanke flanking me, we followed Felix to the left leading to the formal living room. There she was, Sofia Blake.
Weirdly, she was the first person I saw. She stood dutifully, her hands piled in front of her in servitude, a most unconventional sight, beside a restored Louis XVI sofa, housing three women with identical features. Auburn hair. Brown eyes. Freckled faces.
Alicia and her twin daughters. Annabel and Mirabel. They were the twins in the selection, this whole thing was becoming an entanglement.
Before them on the antique table with intricate carvings in gold running round the circumference of it down to its legs, were magazines. Most lay open with hinting at bridal gowns and floral arrangements.
Above was a crystal chandelier, casting a golden glow over the room and its twinkling lights mirrored by the marble floors.