By that afternoon, Father had decided to join the men outside and began to help them with some of the jobs, meanwhile Mother and I had gone to the library and found the perfect distraction from the tidying we had planned on continuing.
Though we hadn't intended, or even expected, to find a library during our room search, it was a spectacular find.
We had always had an affinity for books, Father and two of my three brothers had no interest in literature and never really understood how we could whittle time away staring at the pages.
I sat at a table near a large window, carefully flicking through a book as delicately as if I were holding a child.
Mother was arranging piles of various bits and pieces whilst dusting, at least until she too stumbled across a title that intrigued her.
At some point she had reached a desk that sat to my left and took it upon herself to organise the various bits of old paperwork we could discard.
"This place is unlike anything I have ever seen before," I smiled, not looking away from the copy of The Devil's Elixir that lay in my hands.
"I still think this place is a shamble, definitely not worthy to serve our daughter as a home."
"But I love it."
"I suppose you were always into the more unconventional things," I could hear the eye roll in her tone.
"Enjoying the scarier things in life isn't all that unconventional, Mother."
"It certainly is to me."
"Many young ladies enjoy a bit of fright every now and then, it's not as if it gives me night terrors."
"It did always take a lot to scare you," she hummed, not sounding at all interested in what I was saying.
I shook my head a little with a small wistful smile.
A sudden exclamation from Mother made me flinch in surprise, causing me to almost fumble with the book in my grasp as my grip loosens just a bit.
I may be hard to scare, but causing me to jump was easier than I cared to admit.
"What is it?" I asked, closing the book and turning to face her.
In her hands seemed to be a set of photographs, some in worse condition than others, but all piled together none the less.
Mother had a cautious flip through, revelling in the images that mostly consisted of the same three people at varying stages in life, after each picture she would turn it over and read the inscription on the back were there one.
"Ah, I do remember meeting him," she hummed to herself.
I leaned over to observe the picture that was currently on top.
Stood in front of a set up window display were two dark haired people, one male and one female, were I to hazard a guess I would say they were near to their early thirties or late twenties.
They both stood tall and proud, staring with hardened faced towards the camera.
My heart freezes as my eyes linger on the male, his eyes seeming to keep locked onto mine with a solemn expression through the paper.
Images of the ghostly figure beside my bed the other night re-emerge and my heart falters a little.
Taking the photograph from Mother, I turn it over to read the neat inscription on the back.
"Sir Thomas Sharpe and Lady Lucille Sharpe, 24th October 1883," I read quietly to myself.
"I do vaguely remember meeting them now upon seeing their faces, your father is right, he was a charming man," she stated over my shoulder, looking at the picture briefly before nodding slowly. "He definitely matured in the years since I met him."
"I do suppose that twelve years is a long time, even adult features change over the years."
"You do have a point," she hummed in agreement, "he certainly had looks to go with his charm."
"Mother!" I cried, though it was broken by unavoidable laughter at her cheeky smile. "That is no way to speak of a deceased man."
"Perhaps so," she sighed dramatically before grinning slyly, "though I dare say that he bears a strong resemblance to Robert, he's certainly a good one too."
The thought wasn't an original one, I had come to that realisation the night the spirit had visited me.
The resemblance between the two was undeniable, even through the slightly altered and deteriorated visage of Sir Sharpe during his visit and the thought sent uncomfortably shudders through me.
Of course there were differences, such as Robert's lighter and much shorter hair, he had a much happier and content aura than the one Thomas gave off in the photographs and the fact that Robert was obviously alive, but overall they were almost identical twins and no one would call you a fool for believing it was some strange elaborate joke.
"Mother, honestly," I muttered, wanting to avoid the subject further.
"What? Darling, you aren't getting any younger and nor are we for that matter."
I briefly paused for a moment to fight down the burning building in my cheeks and struggled to keep an embarrassed, wide smile from taking over.
It was a habit I loathed, I couldn't simply blush or cower into myself when a little embarrassed, no, I had to inherit a wide grin that made it seem as if I was lying whether the embarrassing statement was true or not.
As embarrassed as I was, I could hardly deny that Robert was a handsome man who I had quickly bonded with, mostly thanks to my love of dogs and his blessing of bringing China along with him.
That wasn't to say that any of the others weren't a source of great company, Alexander and Ben were particular favourites of mine, but Robert was always so lovely that it was hard not to fall for his friendly charm.
However, we had only spent short amounts of time together and whilst physical attraction was there, I thought it far too early to say that it was anything beyond a little giddiness around him.
"I'll have to apologise for disappointing you then, as I assure you that there is nothing happening between the two of us."
"Not yet, perhaps, but you were gifted with child bearing hips and I wish to see you wed and with child at least once before I die."
"That is truly a pleasant thought, thank you Mother."
She either didn't notice my sarcasm or chose to ignore it and instead focused her full attention on the pile of documents and photographs.
"What do you want done with these?"
"Pardon?"
"Well they're yours now, sweetheart, this is now your home, unfortunately."
I blanch a little at the not-so-subtle insult of my manor but brush it aside with a sigh a, resigning to the fact that Mother would never like my new home.
"I suppose for now we can set anything personal or that seems important to one side and I shall go through it at another time."
A strange smile came across Mother's face, accompanied by an odd twinkle in her eyes.
"Look at our girl, all grown up and organised."
"I was grown up before I moved here."
"I know, but it seems worse now somehow."
"Of course it does, I'm not longer under your very roof or constant eye, you shall worry so much more."
Mother sighed with a sad smile and continued on with her sorting, I turned back to the book I had been reading but found that my attention kept drifting to the photographs.
It was distracting how similar Thomas looked to Robert, the likeness was uncanny and soon my mind began to come up with conspiracies that were beyond insane.
Long lost son.
Disastrous doppelganger.
Long distant cousins who had never met.
"Maybe that one isn't so obscure," I mumbled.
"Pardon?"
"Oh, nothing Mother."
I smiled to myself whilst staring at the picture, revelling at the astounding find and finally putting an official name to the face of my visitor.