To the end of chapter one...
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The Dungeon.
That is what they called their basement, which had been made over into a research library ... and if Adam could live there, he would. It contained row after row after row of sturdy shelves packed with books on collecting and collectors, bibliographies, auction catalogues and sales records, dealer catalogues, books of letters and correspondences, biographies, encyclopedias ... more than ten thousand volumes which held nearly everything one could possibly need to learn anything one could possibly want to know about a book. Jeremy's other task was to scan and digitize the information, a process that was going so slowly, it probably would not be done till the lad was ninety.
The Dungeon's one drawback was how dark and dreary it could be. Electric lighting had been added on about sixty years ago, when the shelves were much fewer, and had not been expanded, since. That left some sections so in such deep shadows, even Adam had to use a flashlight to see or read the signage. Which was unusual for him; both of his brothers and his sister were certain he had been born with the eyes of a cat and only used glasses to disguise his true abilities ... like Clark Kent hiding Superman. And while he liked the notion of it, the idea was nonsense ... though he did have to admit, as an adolescent, his mother was constantly admonishing him to turn on a light as he wandered through their home in the evenings.
At least they never saw much in the way of vermin, here, be it in shadow or not. They had Henry the Fourteenth to thank for that. He was a ginger tom named after the thirteen preceding him, and who was always happy to greet one as the lift door opened, allow a couple of scratches to his ears and strokes along his back, then wander off to be contented in some dry corner till it was time to hunt for his supper ... which, considering his hefty weight, he was not wanting for.
The Dungeon's lift had been added at the same time as the lighting and was barely large enough for two, with a door and gate that were completely manual. It was accessible in the back of the Dark Chamber, so Adam headed for it, rubbing his nose to keep from sneezing en route. As he stepped into the lift, he heard Elizabeth saying, “Now, Jere ... one of those is mine.”
He turned to see Jeremy backing past the doorway with both cups of tea in hand, his expression holding all the innocence of angels on high as he said, “Sorry, duchess. Last I heard, no means no.”
“And I'm sure you heard it just last night,” Elizabeth snapped, appearing in the doorway with him. “Hand it over. It's in my cup.”
“Come and take it,” he cooed, casting Adam a wicked wink as headed on to his room. Elizabeth followed him.
Adam closed the door and then the gate to the lift, set the lever to Basement, and started down. He couldn't blame Elizabeth for preferring a lad who looks dangerous to one with the manners of a librarian. His mother had tried many a time to tell him that it's more fun to live life than read about it.
He still didn't quite believe her.
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Not much, and I guess I could have added part of chapter two...but I think this is the best way to end my posts for this year and ring in the new one...
That and this. Here's hoping 2017 is nowhere near as horrible as I think it's going to be. To be honest, I don't have great hopes.
But I do have a harder attitude...
-------
The Dungeon.
That is what they called their basement, which had been made over into a research library ... and if Adam could live there, he would. It contained row after row after row of sturdy shelves packed with books on collecting and collectors, bibliographies, auction catalogues and sales records, dealer catalogues, books of letters and correspondences, biographies, encyclopedias ... more than ten thousand volumes which held nearly everything one could possibly need to learn anything one could possibly want to know about a book. Jeremy's other task was to scan and digitize the information, a process that was going so slowly, it probably would not be done till the lad was ninety.
The Dungeon's one drawback was how dark and dreary it could be. Electric lighting had been added on about sixty years ago, when the shelves were much fewer, and had not been expanded, since. That left some sections so in such deep shadows, even Adam had to use a flashlight to see or read the signage. Which was unusual for him; both of his brothers and his sister were certain he had been born with the eyes of a cat and only used glasses to disguise his true abilities ... like Clark Kent hiding Superman. And while he liked the notion of it, the idea was nonsense ... though he did have to admit, as an adolescent, his mother was constantly admonishing him to turn on a light as he wandered through their home in the evenings.
At least they never saw much in the way of vermin, here, be it in shadow or not. They had Henry the Fourteenth to thank for that. He was a ginger tom named after the thirteen preceding him, and who was always happy to greet one as the lift door opened, allow a couple of scratches to his ears and strokes along his back, then wander off to be contented in some dry corner till it was time to hunt for his supper ... which, considering his hefty weight, he was not wanting for.
The Dungeon's lift had been added at the same time as the lighting and was barely large enough for two, with a door and gate that were completely manual. It was accessible in the back of the Dark Chamber, so Adam headed for it, rubbing his nose to keep from sneezing en route. As he stepped into the lift, he heard Elizabeth saying, “Now, Jere ... one of those is mine.”
He turned to see Jeremy backing past the doorway with both cups of tea in hand, his expression holding all the innocence of angels on high as he said, “Sorry, duchess. Last I heard, no means no.”
“And I'm sure you heard it just last night,” Elizabeth snapped, appearing in the doorway with him. “Hand it over. It's in my cup.”
“Come and take it,” he cooed, casting Adam a wicked wink as headed on to his room. Elizabeth followed him.
Adam closed the door and then the gate to the lift, set the lever to Basement, and started down. He couldn't blame Elizabeth for preferring a lad who looks dangerous to one with the manners of a librarian. His mother had tried many a time to tell him that it's more fun to live life than read about it.
He still didn't quite believe her.
---------
Not much, and I guess I could have added part of chapter two...but I think this is the best way to end my posts for this year and ring in the new one...
But I do have a harder attitude...
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