Winthrop Manor

A/N: Thanks to everyone who rated, and to hisbabybird for reviewing!


Chapter Two: The Arrivals


The moment the Ritval family walked in, Mira felt a burning dislike course through her veins. It wasn’t hate. Yet. They were all tall people, or at least the two of them that she saw. The man and wife were there, but the brats were nowhere to be seen. ‘Probably off breaking something,’ Mira muttered to herself inwardly. Master Ritval was the first to look up to Cassandra and her children. He was a tall, lean man with gray hair and dark, gleaming eyes. His smile had and edge to it that made Mira uncomfortable; it was sly and eager—a salesman’s smile. He walked over to Cassandra, gently grabbed her hand brought it to his lips, lightly kissing the soft flesh there. Mira suppressed a gag and eyed Master Ritval’s wife, who looked positively disgusted. The woman held her head high, her nose slightly tilted into the air. Master Ritval’s voice brought her gaze back to the older man.

“It’s a wonderful to see you again, Mistress Claybern,” Master Ritval said. His voice was low and flowed with a fluidity of power and reassurance; he had an air of having complete control, knew it, but capped the tone with a high note of promise that he would be gentle with his power. The sound almost reminded Mira of her father.

‘Maybe he’s not so bad,’ Mira thought.

“It’s a pleasure to see you too, Alistair,” Cassandra replied. “I think it is correct to say that neither of us need bother with formalities anymore.” She held her head high and gave the man a genuine smile. Alistair Ritval returned the gesture with a grin of his own. Cassandra’s smile drooped slightly, however, when she turned to greet Alistair’s wife. “I hope your ride here was pleasant, Margaret?” The tall, blonde woman standing near the doorway narrowed her eyes.

“It was less than adequate,” she sniffed. “You will do well to repair the driveway soon.” With that, she tipped her head up even further and glided into the open doorway on the right. The woman may have been ice cold and vicious, but she had the most grace and beauty of anyone Mira had ever laid eyes on.

‘Bitch,’ Mira thought bitterly, glaring at the space Margaret had once taken up. A tall shadow fell over her form and she quickly looked up, the fake smile back in place. Alistair Ritval towered over her, smiling down gently. His eyes were apologetic.

“Margaret can be a bit cranky after traveling for long amounts of time. I do hope you will come to forgive her and warm up to her in time,” The tall form said. Mira gave him a curt nod and awkwardly curtsied—she had never been good at them. Alistair seemed to have noticed and humor twinkled in his eyes as his smile broadened. The young brunette’s face felt as though it had burst into flame and she looked away. Master Ritval moved on to Claire and the young ones while Mira caught a look from her mother; it seemed to say, “this isn’t too bad, now, isn’t it?” Mira threw the middle-aged woman a faint smile.

“Why don’t we take our visits into the parlor with Margaret? We can sit down and I’ll call for one of the girls to bring in tea and biscuits,” Cassandra offered, looking over Mira’s head to Alistair. He straightened up from his chatter with Carli. Claire had said her hellos and Mykel had come to the conclusion that hiding behind his older sister wasn’t nearly as scary as saying hi to the strange man; he had always been a shy boy.

“That is a delightful idea, Cassandra,” Alistair said, but before he could usher everyone into the parlor, the front door opened to a tall, thin young man. Mira didn’t mean to, but she stared at him as he came in. His lean face and strong nose seemed slightly familiar. The shiny black hair on his head lifted off of the front of his forehead in a single wave that flowed back onto his head and straightened out to settle on the nape of his neck. More than likely the shape and volume came from running fingers through the locks many times, probably in frustration. Delicate, circular, wire-rimmed glasses perched lightly on his nose while he remained expressionless, although a slight frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t until his piercing, blue-silver eyes locked with those of Mira’s cool green ones that she realized who he was. He was the “Young Master Ritval” from the portrait she saw earlier that morning. No wonder she didn’t recognize him; his hair had been trimmed, he acquired spectacles and his physique was noticeably skinnier. He had obviously lost some weight.

“Ah, Elijah, there you are,” Alistair’s booming voice said suddenly, making Mira visibly jump, “I was wondering if you had gotten lost.” The man laughed at his joke, but his son did not return the favor. Instead, he just kept staring at Mira.

“Everyone, I would like you to meet my son, Elijah,” Alistair announced. He motioned to Cassandra. “Elijah, this is Mistress Claybern.” Eli tore his eyes away from Mira and rested them upon her mother. A small smile lifted the sides of his lips as he slowly took Cassandra’s hand and raised it to his mouth.

“Pleased to meet you,” he murmured, his lips barely moving. Cassandra smiled gently at him. Alistair moved Eli towards Mira where blue once again locked with green.

“This is Mira, Mistress Claybern’s eldest daughter,” Alistair’s voice said, although it sounded faint and far away, like an echo. Eli moved like he was in water, with slow, deliberate motions. He grabbed a hold of Mira’s hand and lifted it to kiss it like her mother’s. However, she noticed that he moved his thumb so it was resting on top of her fingers and set his lips on top of that; his mouth never touched her flesh. The young man quickly dropped her hand and moved towards Claire, who was standing next to her. He smiled and told her a faint hello and kissed her hand as well. Mira realized he had neither greeted her nor did he smile at her when kissing her hand. A little flare of anger rose up her spine and she narrowed her eyes as she watched Eli greet Mykel and Carli.

‘What was his problem?’ She thought. ‘Am I not good enough for a smile and hello?’

“Well, shall we make our way into the parlor, now?” Alistair asked, breaking Mira’s hard glare. Eli looked up from his crouched position in front of Mykel, who actually peeked out from behind Claire’s thin frame to say hi.

“I dare say we shall,” Cassandra replied. Everyone moved towards the open doorway, but Eli stayed put, staring at his father. Mira paused to look back at the boy quizzically. Alistair noticed her and did the same.

“Is something wrong, Elijah?” He asked. Eli just stared for a moment and then lifted his hand to reveal a leather sack he had been holding onto that Mira didn’t notice before.

“I need to drop this off in my room, first.”

His hypnotic voice reached her ears before she even realized his mouth was moving. The voice was soft but strong, alluring in a way where it demanded interest of the listener. Mira unconsciously leaned forward slightly, as though to hear him better, but he said nothing more. Only stared, his mouth tugged down into a faded frown.

Alistair stepped beside Mira and she looked up at him from the corners of her eye. Something hot and angry seemed to pass through his eyes, but it was gone in the blink of an eye. The color returned to a deep, dark sea-water green-blue. Mira could have imagined the spark. ‘I probably did,’ she thought.

“Alright, Elijah,” Master Ritval said. He turned to Mira, who jumped when she felt him touch her arm. “I’m terribly sorry, Miss Claybern, but would you mind showing my son up to his room? He seems to have something terribly important to drop off there before he joins our lovely chatter.” Mira did not miss the slight sarcasm in his voice. She looked over to Elijah, who did not show any change in expression, or that he had even been talked about at all. A slight, almost nonexistent squeeze brought her eyes back to Alistair’s.

“Oh! Um… of course… Sir,” She replied. There was no way she’d be calling him “Master Ritval” anytime soon. Alistair smiled his salesmen smile, released her arm and took a step back.

“Thank you.” He shot a quick, piercing glare to Eli, who stood motionless, and meandered back into the room. Mira stood there, looking after the older man and then turned back to his son. He hadn’t moved an inch and nearly looked like a statue. The young brunette began to feel uncomfortable being in his presence alone. Eli was so silently intense that she could feel it overwhelming her and set her heart racing. He was sort of cute in a quirky, bookish sort of way.

‘Although, right now, he’s more creepy than cute,’ Mira thought to herself.

She walked over to Eli, who followed her movements with his eyes. Standing there for a moment, she waited for him to say something or make a move of some sort. And waited…

and waited…

and waited. Mira looked around and fidgeted uncomfortably in the silence.

‘Fine. If he’s not gonna do something…’

“Well. Shall we go then?” She said with much gusto. The young woman felt if she didn’t audibly convince herself she was comfortable with this boy then she was probably have ducked away awkwardly and had to have explained to Mr. Ritval why she couldn’t escort his weird son upstairs to his room. She shuffled her feet back and forth, picking at invisible threads on the edge of one of the endless ruffles on her dress. She looked around and then looked up at Eli again. He was staring down at her like a hawk. Mira felt a blush rise to her cheeks at the awkwardness of the situation.

“Um. Right then.”

A blank stare was all she received in return. Mira turned and walked briskly away, not caring if he was following her or not. If he wanted to sit there and rot like a statue in the lobby of the house, he was free to do that. He just wouldn’t get his precious little sack into his room before he returned back downstairs, probably to just sit and watch everyone while they talked.

‘What a weirdo,’ she thought.

Mira placed her hand upon the railing and boarded the flight of stairs. The wooden planks creaked under her weight and the young woman remembered many a night when she would hear the sounds and curl tighter into her bed sheets, heart racing. Times, she mused, that were normally accompanied by some sort of thunderstorm with lightning flashes and large booms. Those were the nights that she always ended up reading a ghost story or would talk with the girls about the haunted North Tower. It never helped that Mira was deathly afraid of thunder and lightning.

A shadow moved about in her peripheral vision and she gasped in surprise. A hand lightly touched her lower back to keep her from slipping down the steps. Mira turned to see that the hand was attached to an arm that was, in turn, attached to Eli. He had somehow silently followed and came up next to her without her noticing at all. His hand was surprisingly warm. The skinny thing looked as though his touch would feel like ice. Mira looked at him, bewildered.

“What—how—??”

“You should be more careful.”

Again, his words reached her ears before she even noticed his mouth was moving, but that could have partly been because she was so engrossed with his eyes. He was close enough that Mira could peer up at his face and pick out all of the color variations in his irises. The blue was slightly darker around the outside of the circle and gradually lightened into the silver-blue around the black of his pupil. Slivers of ice-blue and sky-blue flared out from his pupil like a snowflake. Eli’s stare was undeniably creepy.

Mira felt an electric shiver race up her spine and started up the stairs again, being sure to secure her grip on the railing at every step. She turned her head slightly to see Eli creeping up the stairs behind her, slowly, silently.

“Ok, but… can you not creep up on me like that? It was a little…” She searched for an adjective that wouldn’t sound insulting. “…alarming.”

Again, Eli just stared at her in response.

‘What the fuck is up with this guy?’ She thought, turning away. They climbed the stairs in silence, and when they reached the second-story landing she turned right to lead him down to one of the bedrooms. Out of the corner of her eye, Mira saw Eli stop.

“Where are you going?” He asked her. His voice seemed to echo in the long hallway. She turned to face him, an eyebrow raised.

“To take you to your bedroom, of course.” A small, dirty voice in Mira’s mind snickered, but she plainly ignored it.

“My suite is on the third floor,” Eli said. A flurry of expletives raced through Mira’s mind as she screamed, ‘Oh Goddammit! How the fuck did you talk your way into that??? Now I have the chance of bumping into you, of all people, in that scary-ass hallway. Oh fuck!’ Her inner voice was… decidedly unladylike. Mira scowled into the hallway’s darkness, but erased it before she turned to face the creepy boy. It wasn’t quite fast enough, as recognition of the expression flashed in Eli’s eyes when she did, but Mira didn’t notice.

“Oh. Of course,” She replied, trying to keep the anger and annoyance out of her voice. She failed. The young brunette brushed past Eli and stalked up the stairs. The young man smiled at her back as he followed her. At the top of the stairs on the third floor, Mira paused and turned around, her eyes narrowed.

“Alright, if you’re going to be staying on the third floor, I’ve got some rules for you,” She stated and put her hands on her hips and tried lengthening her back to make her look taller, and in turn, more imposing. It didn’t do much, as Eli’s lanky build still towered over her five-foot-one frame. Light gleamed off his glasses so she couldn’t see the way his eyes trailed down her body.

“Number one: the hallway on your left is my hallway and leads to my suite. If you should need anything from me, please do not go down there; just send one of the girls instead.”

“’Girls’?”

“Yes. One of the… maids, I guess?” Mira hated using the word “servants.” It sounded so haughty and nasty. She continued.

“Number Two: There is a type of bridge that connects our balconies in the back. Please refrain from using it.” A frown tugged at Eli’s mouth.

“Number Three: Please try and stay out of my way. I enjoy my privacy, and if you want to keep yours, I will ask that you honor mine.” Mira knew she was being aggressive and mean, but the Ritvals were essentially invading her families’ privacy, not to mention she couldn’t tell if Eli was… damaged or just being coy. A thought occurred to Mira.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No. I don’t have any siblings.” ‘Dammit!’

“Then, why are you choosing to stay up here?” Mira fought to stay calm and polite. “I mean, there’s plenty of bedroom space on the second floor, and it’s closer to—“

“My parents insisted they have the entire second floor to themselves.”

Mira ground her teeth in frustration. “Oh. Okay.” She turned to the right. The hallway was dark and dusty from no use; the basic electrical system hadn’t been connected yet, and no one had much use to go down there, especially since it was “haunted.” She paused for a moment, her heart rate increasing at the thought.

‘Jeeze, I’m such a wuss.’

“Down here is your wing, called the North Tower. Your bedroom is the door all the way on the end and the bathroom is last door on your left.” Mira turned to go but Eli suddenly moved toward one of the large windows facing the front of the manor. He peered out and up.

“What’s up there?” he asked, indicating to the stone structure jutting out into the sky at the end of the building. Mira felt her mouth go dry. She hated talking about this, especially when standing in the dank hallway.

“Well…” she began, “that’s what we call the North Tower. It’s an… anomaly of the building structure.” Eli looked at her. “It’s… it’s this part of the building that no one can find an entrance to. It’s just… a weird thing.”

“How come?” He asked.

“Well…” Oh boy, away goes her heart rate. “It’s because the North Wing is supposed to be haunted.” An idea bloomed in Mira’s mind. Maybe if she scared Eli enough, he would want to move back down to the second floor with his parents. She stepped closer to him, a wicked grin on her face.

“Actually, it’s more like the third floor in the North Wing is supposed to be haunted. They say an old woman used to live in this manor, and that she dabbled in the… dark arts, so to speak. She had the North Tower built and secretly hid the entrance to it, because that was where she kept all of her spellbooks and potions.” Mira swore she saw Eli’s eyes widen slightly and his body lean closer to hers. She saw this as encouragement and continued with a renewed spookiness.

“But one day, something happened. Either one of her servants brought her the wrong ingredient or she was overcome with the darkness and evilness of her spells, and she somehow died horribly. Some even say a demon came to claim her soul, which she had sold to the devil, and that she had tried bargaining with the soul of one of her servants; the one that had given her the wrong ingredient. The demon became angry and took both hers and the servant’s souls in retaliation. Now she and the servant roam the third floor; the servant seeking revenge on her for using him, and she searching for the right ingredient to finally finish her spell.” She paused for dramatic affect. Eli’s eyes began searching hers behind his glasses, as though he were reading something in them.

‘Well finally,’ she thought, ‘there’s some sort of human emotion in that body.’

“The old woman and the servant do all sorts of stuff to show that they hated how the manor was sold off. They steal books from the library and leave them in the halls here, and they sometimes break lamps and make fixtures spark. And they also—“

“What spell was she doing?”

Mira blinked, not sure if she had actually heard him speak at all. Those dang lips of his never appeared to move!

“What?”

“What spell did the old woman want to finish?”

Mira blinked again.

“Um…I… I don’t really know. I… I think it was something for immortality or whatever,” She replied. Truth of the matter was, there were no spell and no servant’s soul roaming around the house. She had made the entire thing up on the spot. Mira had vaguely heard about an old woman that claimed to be a witch that lived there, but for all she knew, the woman had died peaceably, of old age. ‘Nothing wrong with… filling in the blanks, though,’ Mira thought.

Eli leaned back against the window, as though in deep thought. Mira smiled inwardly.

“So… do you still want to stay up here, or would you rather just go back downstairs and bargain with your—“

“No. The third floor is delightful,” He interrupted. Eli turned and started walking down the hallway in long, graceful strides, his leather bag swinging in his hand. He no longer had the slow-motion movements as though he were in water; he now looked as though the air was parting in front of him and urging him on from behind, to welcome him through their ether. Mira blinked and then dashed after him.

“But-but don’t you believe in ghosts? Aren’t you scared that the old woman will do something to you?” She asked, desperate to scare him away. He suddenly stopped and Mira realized they had moved all the way down the hall to his bedroom door. His slipped one hand into his pocket and retrieved an old iron key. The young man turned to Mira.

“I don’t need to ‘believe’ in ghosts to know they exist,” He whispered. His voice sent a chill down Mira’s spine and she suddenly had the feeling that there was a presence here besides the two of them. She unconsciously moved closer to Eli.

“Besides,” he continued, “shan’t there be a protector for such a pretty face?” His one hand that held neither the old key nor the leather bag reached up to gently touch the tip of her chin. It was comfortably warm. Mira unconsciously blushed, bewildered by the random compliment. Eli quickly moved away and unlocked his door and slipped inside. Mira moved to join him, her heart racing from the strange presence she felt behind her, but Eli blocked her entrance with his long body. He turned to face her, leaning one hand on the door frame and the other on the door itself. Gently, slowly, he plucked the rose from behind her ear and examined it before staring at her with some kind of renewed energy.

“I’m sorry, but I am not feeling well. Please tell my father that I will not be joining everyone this afternoon.” He didn’t even wait for a response before he clicked the door closed and left Mira to her own devices in the dark hallway. She blinked once, glared at the door, and then quickly turned around. ‘Asshole.’

The house groaned in the way most houses do to resettle their weight over time, but Mira felt herself go pale and her heart race. Her mouth went dry again and she suddenly raced through the hallway, thoroughly creeped out.

~*~

Mira returned downstairs to find Alistair and Cassandra talking, Mykel and Carli fighting again, Claire looking positively bored out of her mind and Margaret sitting on the couch, not looking at anyone in particular. She glared over at Mira when she entered the room, and then huffed and looked away. Mira raised her eyebrow but didn’t say anything to the nasty woman. Alistair looked up from his conversation with Cassandra.

“Hello, Mira. Where is Elijah?” He asked. She looked over to him, suddenly feeling as though she had done something wrong.

“Um. Well, he said he wasn’t feeling well and decided to rest up in his room,” Mira replied. A frown tugged at Alistair’s mouth and another hot thing flashed in his eyes for a second and was gone. Margaret looked over with new interest.

“That is a delightful idea,” she said suddenly, her voice slightly high-pitched. “I believe I shall go rest in our room, as well, dear. Afterward we can go about what we will do to redecorate this area of the house. The taste is absolutely dismal.” She stood from the couch, her golden locks flowing in the air current and glided away through the doorway, roughly brushing past Mira.

“Why you—!” ‘—Bitch!’ Mira started to say, but Alistair had come up and took a hold of her arm.

“My apologies. Margaret is not used to such accommodations on the terms we are currently administering. She has such a condition that much must be done to adequately suffice her comfort, which, at times, can be quite taxing on the body.” He paused, to look over to Cassandra. Mira’s mind was reeling from trying to figure out just what the fuck he had said. “I am quite sorry, but I must see to it that these terms of hers are fit and that she is given just the attentions that is necessary.”

He quickly exited the room, leaving Mira confused as ever. She looked over to her mother, who looked awfully worn and tired. The young woman walked over to the older one and sat next to her.

“Mom, what just happened?” She asked. Cassandra smiled a sad, small smile.

“That is what you call ‘saving face,’ my dear,” she replied. Mira leaned forward as though she wanted to hear more, but Cassandra said nothing. She looked over to Mykel and Carli, who were now making fun of one another and fidgeting in their seats. Claire looked over to them, still bored.

“Mom, can I go ride Pepper?” Claire asked, leaning her body forward to rest her elbows on her knees and her delicate chin upon her hands. Pepper was Claire’s gray and white paint mare, her pride and joy. Cassandra inclined her head that she may and Claire bolted out of the room to change into her riding gear before Cassandra moved her head back up. The middle-aged woman also told Mykel and Carli to go outside and get rid of all of their energy. They happily obliged. After they were gone, she sighed and rubbed her temples. Mira looked on in concern.

“Are you ok, Mom?”

“I am, Mira, thank you. I just have a small headache, that’s all. It will go away in time.” Mira looked at her mother. She had always thought her mom was quite beautiful, in a subtle way that declared she was, in fact, human, flaws included. These “flaws” just enhanced her beauty even more, as it was gentle and comforting, but now that Mira peered at her mother, she appeared tired, worn, not at all like the strong woman she had grown up idolizing. The young daughter moved closer to her mother and hugged her.

“Don’t worry, Mom. These freaks will get what’s coming to them, so don’t worry about anything,” Mira murmured. Her mother returned the hug and smiled down at her daughter as though there was something she didn’t know.

“I know, dear, but thank you. My headache feels much better now.” She rose slowly to her feet. “I need to go inform Janice about helping the Ritvals move everything they need in and then check some business for your father. I know how you feel about these people, Mira, but please promise me that you’ll behave around them? God knows what they’d do if something ‘improper’ happened to them.”

“Alright, Mom,” Mira said. She knew what her mother meant, but it still hurt. She felt like she was being scolded for being the way she was; just because she wasn’t a “prime and proper lady” somehow made her a bad person. Cassandra smiled again and left the room, heading for the kitchen. Mira got up and made her way around the manor, trying to find Sophie, Jessebelle and Marie to confide in. She found Sophie in the kitchen, but she was too busy to talk to her; Cassandra had been a bit unsettled by Margaret’s dissatisfaction with her initial impression of Winthrop Manor and was adamant about holding nothing less than a grand feast to appease the snotty woman.

“I’m sorry, Mira,” Sophie apologized while walking by with a large tub of flour. She dumped the heavy thing on a long counter being attended to by a few other older women. It sent up a plume of white. Sophie dunked her hands in the white powder and spread it out across the counter for the other women while another servant brought in a few large mounds of dough.

Mira ducked into the dining room and away from the clutter of the kitchen to find Marie and Jessebelle. Marie was sitting on the floor, an array of metallic objects scattered around her. She had a rag and was viciously polishing an old pewter candlestick, looking angry.

“Fuckin’ bitch, coming in here and whining about shit. Someone should punch her in the nose,” she muttered angrily. Her short, dark curls bounced with each intense scrub. Mira and Jessebelle giggled and agreed. The blonde girl was sitting in a chair by the edge of the table, stitching up breaks in the lace tablecloth.

“We’ll just wash her bedclothes in stinging nettles, how’s that?” Jessebelle offered. All of the girls snickered at the thought. Marie got up off of the floor and shooed Mira out of the room.

“All right, get outta here. We gotta clean this whole hall so the witch doesn’t come in bringing Hell with her,” She said. “Go outside and relax or something. You look like you’re about to pop in that corset.”

Mira rolled her eyes, sighed and made her way outside to the back yard.

It was still early in the afternoon so the sun was still rather hot, especially in Mira’s awful dress, with the corset squeezing her in. She walked out a ways on the soft green grass and plopped under a large elm tree. Opening a book she grabbed on the way out, she leafed through the pages until she found the correct spot in the story. It was an adventure story that she loved since the main character was a powerful woman out on the seas, evading the domineering presence of most of the men she encounters. Not to mention it was one of her… naughty books, ones that not even Sophie, Jessebelle or Marie knew about.

Time passed quickly, and after she was nearly halfway done with the book Mira suddenly felt like she was being watched. She looked up from the cool white pages of the book to look around the yard. Nothing but grass, trees, flowers and shrubs. A few birds chirped happily in the trees and wispy clouds passed by overhead, but there was no human presence around. Her head turned up, as though it were pulled that way so she could stare up at the manor, more specifically, the North Tower.

‘What am I doing? There’s nothing up there. No one can get up there,’ Mira thought. Something appeared to move in the glass at the top of the stonework, directly under the roof. She gasped.

There was a figure in the window of the haunted Stone Tower!

She stared for a moment, not seeing it move, and then quickly closed her book and shoved herself up off the ground. She wiped her dress off and looked up, only to see nothing in the window. The figure was gone.

Mira stood for a second, staring. ‘I could have sworn I saw something…’ she thought to herself. Some movement brought her eyes lower, to the balcony on the third floor. The tall, dark form of Eli was leaning forward on the railing, the wind ruffling his hair. He was staring at her, with sunlight shining off of his glasses, twirling the rose he stole from her under his nose. Mira narrowed her eyes at him.

“And just what are you staring at?” She yelled.

Eli twirled the rose away from his face and smiled. It wasn’t like one of his small ones from before, but a full-fledged grin; it was the cruel-looking one that Mira recognized from his portrait. An electric shiver zipped up her spine and along her skeleton, leaving her fingertips tingling. She turned away for a second, hugging the book close to her chest. Her head suddenly felt very light. The young woman shook it off and turned around.

“Hey! I’m talking to—!”

He was gone.

A different kind of shiver coursed through her veins as Mira high-tailed it back into the manor.