We follow the thick and echoing sound of chatter: men and woman talking in a nearby room. As Slender Man informed us, a sitting room opens to our right through the second door. It is a robust room decorated in ruby and gold hues. Lots of high-back reading chairs, a giant hearth with a tumbling fire inside, gargoyle statues, and seated guests, drinking from china cups filled with herbal tea and what my nose recognizes as cognac.
Here, among the high ceiling, humungous windows covered in thick ice and heavy snow, and the crackling fire, we are greeted by the owner of the bed and breakfast. “My name is Baron Moore. I’m a long lost relative of Henry Moore, the famous artist. Please call me Bar. I’ve practically lived my entire life here at the B and B. I do hope you two men will have a fair t
