Seven

The two men led Kyle into a private room decorated in the finest Queen Anne antique furniture. Across the floor spread hand spun Chinese carpets, along with plush pillows tossed and fluffed across two long couches. On the far end of the room was a large open window, lined in heavy velvet curtains, with sheers delicately placed in between them. A fireplace took up a good portion of the center left wall with a mantle almost as long as Kyle was tall. A deep blue velvet antique chaise lounge sat next to the window, and behind it on the wall, a floor to ceiling shelving of leather bound books.

The room was lit with a chandelier, low and dim, and used to serve the house with candle light against hanging crystals. The chandelier had long since been replaced with electrical current, but still gave the shimmering off glow from its dangles and bobbles. On the right side of the room, a bar cart with bourbon, sherry, champagne and ice sat, waiting for them.

“Do you drink, Ky